Judge?

For in the way you judge, you will be judged 
and by your standard of measure, it will be measured to you.....
                                           Matthew 7:2


Scripture has to be the most fascinating thing in the world.   I mean really!   It changes with you - no matter where you are in your faith walk, it walks with you....  


You are this prim and proper little legalist and in this brief passage, the only words that pop out at you are judge, standard, measure.   Good God, it is about time You asked for my help!


Then someone gets in your faith, I mean face, and asks you who made you judge and jury.   And then you realize, that is not a law degree hanging on your thelogical wall.   Once that gets through your thick skull, you realize Jesus was not giving you the right to judge.  In fact,  bluntly, you really don't know what right means.  You are clueless and you want to know.  


And the journey begins.  You are relentless.   In fact you are fanatical in your pursuit of this knowledge.   First you dissect the words themselves - you study verb tenses and the Greek.  Next to the context - the history of the times, nuances of the language, even the sardonic wit of the culture.   You peruse Augustine and Wesley.  You throw in a little Barth and Nouwen, for good measure, no pun intended.  And you realize, though a little wiser, you are not much closer to knowing what He means. What does he want me to do?


And, in a moment of weakness, an epiphany, it comes to you.  What if this is not all about me.  Am I my brother's keeper?  Though ill-used, that was a pretty good question.  And slowly but surely, the glass clears, just a bit,.  You realize that judge is another word for unjust condemnation.   Measure is a heinous label used to keep folks where we want them.  And
standard is just an edict of my narrow-minded perception.   Wow!  


But wait there is more.  Just when you are settling into your "I've got this all figured out" chair, you realize it is not all about the other guy.  It is about you!  What is up with this!   I have just turned to the next chapter.  But no, it can't be left alone.   It can't stop with you, fellow guy, because it is also about what being judge, jury, and executioner does to me.  It shrivels the heart, impairs the sight, and muffles the voices of humanity.   And you don't even want to think of what a small heart, blindness, and deafness does to your relationship with God.    


Because, you come up lacking.  You are judged, my friend, and the verdict is - EMPTY.  And in the bounty and extravagance of His grace, you want your cup open and waiting.  Heck, you want to trade in that cup for a bucket, make that a barrel.    


So what comes first the chicken or the egg?  Does my judgemental spirit spill over from my criticism of my fellow man to myself?  Or does the belittling of myself splash onto my fellow man?  Or is it just a vicious cycle, each adding kindling to the other?  LIke two wolves in a circle chasing each others' tails, until they are a blur


How to stop the madness?  Maybe it is to realize His heart grieves with my dilemma and though I may be helpless, He is not.  


 Ah, as always, my first step.  Admission of my ignorance and helplessness. 


Second step - STOP the voices......Negativity has met its match (I hope)


Thanks be to God!

Hallelujah?

Our church choir did Handel's Messiah this week. There was a note in our program providing a little background information on George Frederic Handel.

It seems "ole Handel" was somewhat "earthy", in fact, someone described him as "a tub of pork and beer". He was not a particularly religious man to begin with, but it was said that he received a spiritual epiphany and that it took him a mere three weeks to compose the whole piece. He did not leave his room during the entire time. His servants must have been disturbed by the fact that he took very little food or drink during the writing. He told a friend that at the time of writing the Hallelujah chorus, it was as if all of heaven opened up to him and he saw God Himself. I am sure those of us who have sung the piece can testify to that probability.

Basking in the afterglow of the performance, I could not help but ponder about it's author. There were surely other composers that were more spiritual and in essence more deserving of the great honor of penning such a work. Bach for one. What if the religious right of his day had deemed his lifestyle a factor in the acceptance of this heart work and had rejected it from publication or performance. What a loss the world would have suffered!

Being in a mainline, declining denomination, I am can't help but be worried about the church as a whole. We can pull out all the bells and whistles, contemporary music, user-friendly services, but until we see and accept people as they are, we will surely perish. The work I do studying His Word and following His disciplines are for naught, if it only serves to swell my head or chest. What is the purpose of what I do if not to clear my heart and soul to be a channel for Him. Is it my choice or His who receives the love He imparts through me? I think His! Is grace something I earned? No! It freely came to me and it must freely pass through me to a hurting humanity.

I must have His eyes to see the pain and His ears to hear the suffering of those around me. I can only do that if I am open to Him. Please let it be. Please let it be me!

Then There WereTwo

Two women greet, only years separate them

Both of their wombs divinely seeded

They embrace; one part joy, the other shame

Their tears speak volumes, no words are needed

The cries of the mothers herald the births

Clothed in crimson robes, babes come into sight

One destined to call men from darkness

The other one to bring them His Light

In a river, two men face each other

Hands of one placed on the other’s brow

One gives, one receives this symbol of grace

Spirit anoints as God’s blessing avowed

See the crowds gathered, once to greet them

Praise turned to jeers, their spittle to adorn

The prophet’s head honored on silver platter

A Prince’s coronation by crown of thorns

Two men, linked by purpose and lineage

Fulfilled God’s plans through different roles

Death tried but failed to contain them

One lives in His Word, the Other our souls

Jo

Pregnant?

Amidst the scurry and flurry of the holiday rush, I had to deal with a questionable report on my yearly check-up. After a series of further testing, it culminated in a "procedure", a very inocuous word for something quite painful.

At the end, I found myself in an ultrasound room, waiting for my specialist. While waiting, I happened to glance at the screen to my left and saw the black and white outline of a fetus. Now the test had not begun, so I knew this was not my uterus on the screen, but for a split second, I had rather a shock. Images started flashing before my eyes of what it might be like to receive that news. You are pregnant! Diapers, baby food, and assorted baby things kept popping in and out of my mind.

The doctor entered the room shortly thereafter and I had gathered my wits enough to jokingly inquire about the monitor. He sheepishly told me that most women having ultrasounds in this room were indeed pregnant, so the reason for the picture. I joked with him, but deep inside I was a bit unsettled. Of course, I did not want a baby in this season of my life, but the very fact that I could not, was a little sad.

Since my focus has been on Mary this Christmas season, I could not help but think of her. Of course, she did not have the benefit of ultrasound, but the slow rounding of her abdomen, the cessation of her menses - all the signs were there. I also thought of Elizabeth. Not unlike myself, in the fact that we were both past our childbearing years, but the evidence was there for her as well. The swelling abdomen and tenderness of her breasts, both signs of something once felt dead, now miraculously alive.

Between the two women, there were a myriad of feelings. Shock, joy, shame, peace, pain. Repeated over and over in their lifetimes as they nurtured, loved, and then watched as their sons followed the paths God had sent them to take. More food for thought. I will get back with you.

Alleluia!

God in a Bottle

“Ask, and it will be given to you; seek, and you will find; knock, and it will be opened to you. (Matt 7:8)

As a child I came to think of God, early on, as a sort of genie. He did not live in a bottle but up in the sky. And if I was good enough and said my prayers morning and night, made good grades, and minded my parents - He would grant my wishes.

Now mind you, our family suffered a tragedy when my little brother was severely burned at the age of 6. Odd, but in looking back, I was 9 at the time and I never saw my Genie God at fault. Nor, for that fact, did I see our family as having not asked for the right wishes, nor the subsequent calamity as some type of penance for wrong-doing. As you can see my early theology was not only flawed but inconsistent. :)

As I grew older, my concept of God changed. Thank God - literally! I no longer saw him as this Great Granter of Wishes. I became a little more jaded or wiser, and realized that He was not a genie (I am sure He appreciated that). However, with so much practice, the cloak of people pleasing or, in this case, Deity pleasing was way too comfortable. So I continued to wear it.

As I sit here, 50 something, my viewpoint has changed dramatically. God is not stagnant and neither am I. Ask, seek, find is a process. It is God's never changing desire for my greater good and my gradual metamorphosis into someone who can realize that. God never changes but because of my human myopia, He continues to use life, people, and events to bring me into focus. I, in turn, still have my moments of victories and struggles. Some days I feel I am in the groove, seeking and asking, hungry for His attention and His answers. Other days, not so much.

Sometimes I feel like a mule. Legs apart, daring Him to pull on my reins. I am content to sit and munch oats. Or at other times, I flat out turn around and backtrack. All this to say my asking and seeking has changed for the better. Because I do so with expectancy. I have finally realized that what I am seeking is not always what I think I am seeking. Confused yet? If not let me continue...

For I have just emerged from this Doris Day period "Whatever will be, will be". Picture a kind of head to the brow, reclining me, suffering servant picture. That is the purgatory you live in from time to time when God puts an "under renovation" sign over your theology, to that point. You know that theology. The complete and "never to change" theology. When you have finally figured it all out - HA!

So let's go to the dessert scripture. Which is the whip cream on the top, cherry included....

For everyone who asks receives, and he who seeks finds, and to him who knocks it will be opened.

Before you get too comfortable, it does not say for everyone who asks receives what they ask for, and they who seek find what they were looking for, and they who knock, the exact door they knocked on will be opened. God is the giver and He is the one to be found and it is His door of choice to open. The closer I grow to Him, the more I know of Him, the greater my love grows for Him. Makes me pretty darn excited to see what He has in store for me next!

I can only imagine the Wise Men entering the home of Mary and Joseph, seeing the object of their journey. Were they amazed, dumbfounded, disappointed? I don't know. But they left their gifts, acknowledging Christ as the One they sought. If they were truly "wise men" they too had figured out the way God works.....

Mary

I have a hard time wrapping my mind around Mary this Christmas. It happens every year. There is just one thing in the Christmas story that I have heard time and again that just sticks out and demands my attention. Mary has become my focal point.

It is amazing! She is to become the mother of the Christ - what a blessing, what an opportunity. But then the gravity of the situation just starts to creep in and you go a little crazy. There is a relatively new Disney film based on the childrens' story of Rapunzel. It is called Tangled and having a 2 year old granddaughter, I have only seen it about 20 times. Now the weird thing about it is that I have enjoyed watching it 20 something times. It is lovely and the music is good and it has a wonderful lesson. In the film, Rapunzel has found someone to take her to the see the "lights" (I will not spoil the story) and she is torn between leaving the tower/disobeying her mother and doing the one thing she has always dreamed of. It is very humorous, but I can almost see Mary in the same situation. Yipee, I am the mother of the Messiah. Ooooh, what will people think! What a miracle, I am having a baby! Hoooowwww am I going to tell Joseph! It could go on and on.

The other thing, that bugs me about Mary was how do you keep something like this a secret. It is hard for me at my age. A young girl the age of Mary. Was alot of divine intervening going on!

She is really a puzzle this Christmas......

Serenity's End

OK, so this is the end of that prayer we were talking about......

That I may be reasonably 

Happy in this life

And supremely happy 

With Him forever in the next.

Amen.............

So how does that work?

Who do you know that has gotten on his hands and knees and asked God for reasonable happiness.  The movie is called "It's a Wonderful Life", not "It's an OK Life".

No one buys a lotto ticket to get a few dollars.  Noooo, you want the 40 million, please.  So what is up with this word reasonably.  Within reason.  Whose reason?  Not my reason.  My reason far exceeds my means in all cases and I want to be rip roaringly happy.  

I once heard a local celebrity talk before a group once.  He said that everything he thought he wanted to achieve, was never enough.  There was one more thing, one more item that would bring that total happiness.  But that next item still left him wanting.

I think in my own life, as I grow wiser, I grow less excited about more.  In fact simplicity is looking more and more attractive. When I was younger and poorer, I used to have one good pair of black slacks or one pair of blue jeans.  I always knew where they were.  I kept up with them because they were all I had.  Now I have a closet full of clothes and I can never find the one piece Iwant.  Why?  Because, individually, they are not that important.  If I lose one, I have another one.  If I can find it.

I look at all the things that are really important to me and I realize when I am gone, they will cease to be important.  Unless there is monetary value, my kids and grandkids will not even realize how important it was to me.  And even if they do, even out of respect for me, it can never mean as much to them as it did to me.

Lusting for the next thing, means the present thing is not what I want.  Reasonably happy is sounding better and better each time I hear it.


And being reasonably happy, makes me peaceful.  Makes me appreciate the now and not pine for the future.  Not see everything in shades of "could have been's" or "what if's".  And if I obtain reasonable happiness, won't heaven in contrast, be blow your socks off, top of the mountain, better than best?  


Yeah!!!!