"Superglue........................................"

After giving his readers the Biblical account of “in the beginning” and also an old, black preacher’s more “colorful” version of the matter, Buechner then began to suggest that all the façade of what was created be dropped, leaving one with only “the being”. His words reminded me of that television commercial some automobile maker recently filmed where all the scenery around the car, as it motors from hither to yon, falls backwards like pieces of painted cardboard until all that’s left is that which the company wants you focused on: the gas-guzzler they’re hoping you’ll buy. In like manner, my favorite author of the hour has so reduced my mental perception, fine-tuning it until it’s right there with him in the After giving his readers the Biblical account of “in the beginning” and also an old, black middle of nowhere, yet precisely centered on that which holds the whole puzzle together. Unarguable. Unexplainable. But still so “in your face” that it’s utterly undeniable. This voice of God. This big bang mystery that gives existence to all that is……

I awoke pre-dawn this morning, stumbled around in the darkness, brewed a cup of coffee, and then made my way through the grandsons who were sprawled all over the living room occupying both the sofa sleeper and a large air mattress. The view from the veranda of our fifth floor condo unit was rather mystic, the absence of direct sunlight blending the ocean and sky into one huge wall of gray before me. I could hear the waves breaking across the beach, see the white line of disintegration as each new arrival spilled itself upon the sand; but above that thin, elongated point of recognition it was as if heaven had lowered a great, grey, gossimer curtain. The moon was positioned elsewhere and beyond my little segment of the universe, but somewhere, out beyond forever, a single, solitary star confirmed unto me that distance wasn’t that big a deal. A man’s soul knows no limitations other than what he, himself, assigns it, especially when it connects with that One who created it all. What’s hard I only eliminating the clutter……

My middle daughter came out to visit with me yesterday in that space where daylight had fully manifested itself, but had not yet consumed the shadows over the seashore. When I asked her to tell me what she saw, in gazing at the scene before her, she hesitated, relaxed, and then simply replied, “Peace.” Understandable, knowing some of what life introduced to her this past year. Nonetheless, I suggested that her answer was just indicative of what most do: take the imagery and become one with it. In such a location as we possessed, it’s certainly easy enough to fall into a sense of momentary tranquility and forget all else; but my own mind always tends to go to the horizon, that point where all that is known and all that is unknown meet making an irrefutable seam that actually stretches itself to where I, myself, sit. While I’m left with an inability to put rhyme or reason to it, yet within me deep touches deep and there is no fear, no panic, no anxiety concerning the whole reality of it resting in the palm of His hand……

"Pre-vacation Musings............................."

Up early and strolling through the garden with some friends, I found my thoughts being continually returned to that plastic dome which not only the religious institution, but also we, as individuals, erect over our existence. Ron, of “Weary Pilgrim”, wrote of reaching out to a friend suffering with depression and I spoke to him of how, inside the bubble, is but the stink of our own humanity. We are, after all, what we breathe as well as what we eat and, unless we get fresh air from somewhere, pollution takes its toll. Still, men being men, you can lead them to an oxygen tank, but you can’t force them to inhale…..

I find that true whether trying to break through the defensive barrier that people tend to build around their own opinions or through the protective shield that the Church utilizes in the cloning of its constituents; but find myself in agreement with my friend at “Under the Overpass” who asks us to remember that we are not God. “The world does not need more saviors”, he says, in quoting his bishop; “We already have one of those; and He is enough.” In other word, it’s too easy to get our ego in the middle of our good intentions and it works much better if we just allow Him to overflow our vessel as He sees fit…..

In my visit to “Naked Pastor”, then, after reading David’s comparison of our trying to give life to Christianity’s ecclesiastical structure to an attempt to restore an old car that has condemned to the scrap heap, it amused me to find him declaring how the life we’re promised in Christ is “a resurrected one”, but amazed me that he should afterward think such life “probably beyond the domain of sensual experience”. His words but convince me of our failure, as the Body of Christ, to share the reality of the gift, too busy putting definition to the Book rather than simply being the incarnation of who He is…..

I’ll close, therefore, with Wayne’s latest entry at “Stratoz” which prompted me to give comment concerning how our perspective changes as we go. A young boy, upon seeing the robin sitting on a fence, will take aim with his slingshot. Down the road somewhere, however, older and hopefully wiser, the action is reversed and the old man’s heart is hit by the bird and yields unto the One who created them both. As we journey “through the veil”, always the Shepherd is not far from any of us. It is we who make it difficult. It is we who put up walls and resist the Wind. May we learn as we go…..

"Enclosed in Plastic................................."

“To church leaders and Christians who have enough missional courage to do whatever it takes to escape the Christian subculture and be citizens of the kingdom rather than citizens of the bubble”…..Dan Kimball, intro to “They Like Jesus, But Not the Church”


In using my Barnes & Noble on-line connection to investigate “Unchristian”, I stumbled across the above publication and was caught by the last four words of the above. The book originally sought for exploration is said to address “the negative perceptions young people have of Christianity”. Kimball’s middle chapters are labeled what “Emerging Generations” think about the Church and categorize the latter accordingly as: (1) organized religion with a political agenda; (2) judgmental and negative; (3) male dominated/oppressive of females; (4) homophobic; (5) arrogant in its claim of all other religions being wrong; and (6) full of fundamentalists who take the whole Bible literally. While admitting that I’ve not yet read either literary endeavor in its entirety, I honestly wonder what’s so wrong, Scripturally, in being found guilty as charged?…..

I find nothing wrong with a political agenda being a part of one’s faith as long as it doesn’t require everyone else to agree with you. It’s certainly no secret that every other group does the same thing. Wasn’t Christ, Himself, often found judgmental and negative? Being in His image doesn’t demand we sit in a corner and say nothing, only that our words be laced with grace and void of condemnation. If the ecclesiastical institution is run by men, I submit that world culture has long been so organized. Gender equality is just one more area the Church needs to address. “Phobic” is a little strong concerning the ecumenical position on this one, considering what the Book has to say about the condition, but that statement takes us right into the last two items on the list and, for me, what we’re looking at once again is a man’s attitude with the sharing of his faith……

If we within the Body are bringing forth bad social interaction, I find two reasons for such exchange. First, a wise man once put it this way: “You can please some of the people all of the time and all of the people some of the time; but you can’t please all of the people all of the time.” In truth, many have their own definition of how we are to represent Jesus and it is a good bet that Jesus, Himself, would fall short of their demands. Secondly, the Church has failed, in my opinion, in its confirmation of one of its most important tents. We preach a Trinity fulfilled by the fact of Christ “in” me, but then either reduce the Holy Ghost to a non-reality residing in our good works, or arrogantly think ourselves to BE such authority raising the dead and running off demons. Somewhere along the way it became more about our ego and less about being a vessel for His reality……

Citizens “of the bubble”…Did that stir anyone else’s thoughts?

"Deciphering the Broadcast......................"

Sunday being Sunday, I listened to two sermons yesterday. The first sprung out of a single verse in Proverbs and brought forth the idea of a father leaving a legacy for his children, but did not necessarily refer to financial inheritance. Ethics. Faith in God. Integrity. There’s more to life than a healthy bank account. Tim Russert’s recent death no doubt had stirred memories within this pastor’s heart of his own dad’s passing about a year ago, but words shared with us remained focused, to the point, and, in ending, struck my heart. The other message, delivered in another assembly, also closed with the idea of an elder generation pronouncing a blessing upon its youth. By the time the preacher got to such conclusion, however, I was scratching my head over the trail he had just blazed to get to such location…..

After thirty-six years in Pentecost, it seems to me I’ve heard it all. There were those, in the beginning, who didn’t consider a man “anointed” until his sentences became unpunctuated and held together by great guttural gasps, but that equation disappeared, at least in my neck of the woods, along the way. Holiness legality still lingers in the bushes, taking pot shots at whomsoever every now and then. In truth, though, such strictness never bothered me, other than the “look-down-your-nose” attitude that some developed with it. Just as long as I find, somewhere amidst all the clutter and misrepresentation that we, in being human, bring to it, the genuine, manifested presence of His reality, put the Gospel in whatever terms you wish: Life, along with a personal thirst to know Him, will sort it out as I go…..

Rene Descartes’ theological explanation for our existence, “I think; therefore I am”, never did impress me. The movie “matrix”, as far as I’m concerned, stated the facts much better. Not that machines have us all actually contained in singular, biological units, feeding us a programmed image of the world as it appears to be, but there would seem to be a sense of truth to our viewing life, each through our own perspective. I’m willing, in fact, to permit that variant to all believers. If Christ “in me” indeed be an actuality, a promised encounter known to us via the Holy Ghost and yet, at the same time, is deity that will never take our reins other than by our permission, then surely our Biblical understanding goes beyond a stumble through His Word governed by His tug on our heart…..

If you’re going to serve me a slice of your “vision”, you can expect me to chew on it for awhile before I swallow it…..

"Monthly Mid-Week Report........................."

The small room that serves as a dining area for the rescue mission was over-flowing this past Wednesday. The men know the drill. Every evening after dinner all but three tables are broken down, the floor gets mopped, and folding chairs are then once again introduced, about eight to a row, maybe ten rows deep, with an aisle created down the middle should anyone need to exit. Young men. Old men. Caucasian. Afro-American. Hispanic. The weather is warm enough now and most wear jeans and a t-shirt, maybe with a ball cap; but all are clean other than facial hair on half, ranging from full beard to just-haven’t-used-a-razor-lately. I like that administration is quite strict about them possessing a no-alcohol, drug-free mental awareness while there, but that’s not to say I think the majority is so addicted. In truth, on almost any occasion we are privileged to visit with them, these fellows don’t just sit there out of payment for items received. They worship with us…..

That doesn’t mean, though, that I find them resembling an “ordinary” congregation. Filling the pews most any Sunday morning elsewhere is a church full of like-minded, denominationally indoctrinated individuals who do not always see eye-to-eye on how to run their affairs, but who, for an hour or so, are willing to put differences aside for the sake of fellowship. In this arena, it’s much the same other than we have a melting pot. Whether currently active in an assembly or not, these guys aren’t strangers to the Gospel. Some are, no doubt, atheists. The possibility of there being a Muslim or two in our midst is quite likely. Most have a religious history that fits into their thinking; and, on any given night, right here, get fed who knows what theology. Nobody gave me a “King James only, no tongue-talking” instruction sheet when we signed up for this ministry; and I assume, if they took us, they’ll take anybody. Methodist, Baptist, Church of Christ-it all comes together in the altar call, I suppose.....

This time out, however, as I sat there listening to Bob share with them, from behind me, in low guttural tones, a voice kept repeating the filthiest profanity, as if the mind issuing the flow was trapped within the flow. Demon-possessed? Schizophrenic? I’d be lying if I didn’t tell you both scenarios came to me. He wasn’t disturbing anyone and there didn’t appear to be any need to jump up and confront the situation. Indeed, my options seemed clear: silent prayer simply putting the matter into God’s hands. I am aware that most no longer view the first diagnosis in terms of having reasonable validation; but, having encountered it at least once in my walk, I believe. That is not to say I go around looking for it, only to note that I’ve learned my lesson. No matter which, or what, was happening here, my reaction was to trust the Holy Ghost in me and to realize my Father was in control. With all my concerns transferred on high, I returned to my friend’s heart coming forth and we had “church”…..

"Non-Fiction......................."

“They meet as well as diverge, our stories and Christ’s, and even when they diverge, it is His that they diverge from, so that by His absence as well as by His presence in our lives, we know who He is and who we are and who we are not”…F. Buechner


Wednesday evening Bob and I once again shared with the men at the rescue mission. I hate speaking of the event in terms of our having ministered “to” these fellows. We sing a couple of hymns “with” them, share our testimonies with-”out” trying to force-feed them Scripture, and “join” them in prayer afterwards. Still, in walking away, I’m always questioning if such event isn’t conducted more out my own vanity than it is out of a concern for those with-“in” the congregation. Is it wrong that I enjoy our visit? Wouldn’t we accomplish much more if we were involved in meeting their physical needs? I find myself continually being taken in this mental examination, though, back to the truth that this is the door that was opened unto me, this is the place where God would have me; and, in that, I find rest……

Thursday morning I finally figured out the technology and was able to listen, via the internet, to a bit of a friend’s testimony recently shared over a local radio station. By that, I mean local to her. She lives in Canada, in an area that I would consider not only remote, but also as being subject to extreme weather conditions. She grew up there, though, subject to things worse than the weather. Her parents suffered with alcoholism and her childhood suffered, then, with what such addiction can bring to those years. Even worse-enough emotional baggage went with her into her own marriage that it took a surrender unto Christ to finally find peace. Everything did not simply turn overnight into Eden, of course. It has been a journey, requiring determination and honesty of all; but, as a family, they’re making it……

The above lady, a few weeks ago, led me to the blog of an Episcopalian minister who has been feeding my soul ever since with stories of his life serving at a church/soup-kitchen/outreach, all of which is known to me only as “Under the Overpass”. His identity remains a mystery and the location, I assume, is somewhere in the Mid-West (due to his mention of enjoying the sound of wind blowing through the wheat fields). After reading a couple of his descriptions about life as it within such calling, however, I suggested to him that his anonymity doesn’t stem from “self” wishing no one to know him, as a man of the cloth, to be so prone to human nature, but from a Christ-owned spirit that sought no glory in what he did. He replied that his wife would be glad to enlighten me as to how human he was. I remain convinced of my own judgment……

It is not some manufactured “Christ-like” appearance that speaks to me, but someone who, in the attempt to reach such goal, remains aware of just how short they come……

"Finding Flow.................................."

The last couple of days have had me tied up in one way or another. One of Beth’s sister-in-laws was rushed to the hospital Sunday night suffering with pneumonia and we were already scheduled to transport an ex-sister-in-law battling Lupus back and forth Monday to her two doctor’s appointments. Between checking on the first to make sure her needs were met and assisting the second in her emergency, it was like a game of checkers up until late afternoon. Tuesday, then, we found ourselves at war with a bunch of uninvited intruders that hitched a ride into our home via the mutt. We knew he had fleas, but figured the Frontline application would address the problem. The groomer, however, having bathed and shaven him down to the nub, handed him back to us yesterday with advice to bomb the house. Neither of us had yet noticed any infestation of the little critters, but we took her at her word and immediately began purging the premises. It’s the smartest dog I’ve had since the one I knew as a kid; so, hopefully, we have the situation under control…..

Ron’s latest report on his Mustard Seed adventures had me recalling my own attachment to an inner city work in Cincinnati. We resembled “church” as most might think of it, however, and I get the opinion that this Canadian outreach is more of a soup kitchen/coffee house with a worship team that doesn’t just sing “Amazing Grace”. Either way: people are people and it is never as much about format as it is about His presence meeting us where we are. It matters not whether you’re teaching Sunday school, singing a solo inside a glass cathedral, or simply trying to minister to the homeless, it is His reality that breathes life into the effort; and, until that happens, what you’ve got is just works. One man’s sacrifice is received; another man’s is not. I’m prone to think it had little to do with what each offered. God knows the heart….

Buechner said “The Kingdom comes by looking for it” and, by that, means there must be a desire on our part, a thirst to know Him as He is. Buechner also says, though, that it comes by “not looking for it too hard”. I have been among those who think it possible to force the issue and only end up with a counterfeit copy they, themselves, have created. So when the author completes his theological point with the third idea “Sometimes the Kingdom comes by it looking for you”, the only part I might change is the first word, since it has been my experience that “most”-times such is the case. Our walk with Christ is promised a confirmation of the Gospel’s claim of a “living” Savior, a manifestation of His reality, but I've found that, often as not, it occurs while you're in the middle of reaching out to others or trying hard to get the bugs out of your own house….

"Back to the Future........................."

Our Sunday school lesson yesterday was an initial step into the Book of Revelation, a study that the teacher promises will not be some grand excursion into eschatology, but nonetheless one that has already brought reference to some literature written by David Wilkerson. With his roots in old-time holiness, this author has long deemed our nation on the brink of judgment, an opinion I’m familiar with, since there’s a small paperback copy of his “Set the Trumpet to Thy Mouth” that has occupied space on my book shelf for many years. Written in 1985, it foretells of America not surviving sudden calamity. Banks closing. Financial institutes crumbling. The economy completely out of control. Panic among all oil producers, shippers ,and all nations dependant upon that source of fuel. He equates the country, with its “corrupt society and whorish church system”, to Biblical Babylon; and one of the verses he utilizes in his cry of “woe unto thee” reads: “these two things shall come to thee in a moment, in one day: the loss of children, and widowhood”. Current events certainly give me pause as to whether or not his warning might not have been divinely inspired; but, even if so, I find it “breathed” through an earthen vessel and therefore subject to more examination before being swallowed…..

While some may pronounce me backslidden or guilty of heresy, that last statement is, nonetheless, my view concerning the Holy Word. Do I believe it to be God-given and spoken unto whomsoever? I do; but I also accept it as having been channeled through humanity and therefore tainted by the same element on this end of the transfer. It has nothing to do with disbelief in its potential to provide me with the mind of Christ, but has everything to do with my own ability to insert my ego into the interpretation. I do not trust me. I do not trust the guy in the pulpit no matter how many degrees he holds, no matter how much he speaks in tongues. Scripture gives me foundation, but life and an attempt to follow what appears to be His tug on my heart have so far been my best teachers. My faith is in those things He has proven unto me, not someone else’s slant on Scripture. I listen, but find the proof is always in the pudding. It is the Holy Ghost, in me, in you, within the pages, connecting heaven and earth, the assurance of all that the Gospel gives promise of. The fullness of what is yet to be can remain a mystery to yet be grasped as it unfolds itself unto us; but I want Him in my next step, His hand in my hand as I journey through the veil…..

"Truth or Consequences..............".

While Beth and the youngest daughter shopped Sam’s Thursday evening, out of boredom I picked up a book off their rack and began to investigate its content. Whatever else the author had in mind when he titled his work “Lord, Save Us from Your Followers”, a financial profit had to be in there in there somewhere, but a skimming of the first chapter only prompted me to visit You-Tube a little later. Dan Merchant claims to be “just looking for a bit of dialogue in a society divided by culture wars”. To accomplish his mission, he dresses in a white paint suit covered with a multitude of bumper-stickers and fish insignia, walks the streets of cities all across this nation letting the suit speak for itself, and then, without thumping the Gospel or arguing theology, asks a few questions of those who take the bait, records their answers, and moves on to the next encounter…..

His background appears to be Lutheran, but his view of the Church in general has it evolved, for the most part, into individual dogmatic denominational units of “us versus them”. Our theology is no more than a tunnel-vision version of the Book cemented into our brains and we are unable to hold a conversation concerning our faith without becoming aggressive. It’s called witnessing and equates to “God’s army on an assigned mission”. I’m familiar, of course, with the image that might present, but sidewalk preachers and door-to-door evangelists aren’t his only focus. Taking it a step farther, he feels it is no less “in your face” when the average pew warmer, in avoiding confrontation, shares their opinionated faith by plastering it either across their chest or the rear end of their car, “sticking it” to whomever with a “like it or lump it” attitude, and then going their own way with no encounter whatsoever…..

One might well debate his own approach, of course, except there is no attempt to proselytize anyone, no outreach other than that already stated. He claims it’s all about establishing some vocabulary between the religious right, the religious left, and anybody else who wishes to sit down at the table. To me, it’s just another gimmick using Christianity as a meal ticket; but it is interesting, I admit, to hear how people from all walks describe us from their perspective., so I’m ending this post as follows: Here are two of his queries. Answer each, honestly, with the first thing that comes to mind, completing the first before looking at the second; and the second without changing either when you insert them into the comments. There is no wrong response. Okay?.....

Numero uno:
What is one thing that Jesus is known for?


Numero dos:
What is one thing that christians are known for?

"Mental Hard Knocks............"

We were watching a Hallmark presentation Tuesday evening. Beth was on the sofa and I was stretched out in the recliner when a small, black spider ran down the living room wall right behind her head. My initial reaction to its intrusion was to merely ask “What was that?” Her feminine sense of mental telepathy immediately brought her to her feet, however, seeking escape and demanding of me to exterminate whatEVER it was. Obedient husband that I am, I pulled the couch away from the wall, located the little feller, and accomplished that very deed; but, while back there on the expedition, I also discovered a couple of items on the floor that one of the younger grandkids had somehow managed to lose. Bending over to get them was no problem; but, in coming back up, I caught only blurred vision of that shelf that’s been there forever, recoiled to avoid it, and, instead, butted my head into the corner of it. Ouch! It was only a scratch, yet painful and a lesson I’ve never quite learned. The object is right there in front of you, you know it’s there, but when you react to the realization of it coming into focus, you go forward rather than backwards, unconsciously using your skull like a ball-peen hammer....

There ARE other ways, however, that our brain and our eyesight miscue. My first time on the golf course, on about the fourth hole, someone shouted “Fore!”, I turned and just stood there mesmerized, watching that incoming ball until it exploded into my upper arm. On another occasion, I threw my hot, blue Mustang into reverse, ignorantly burned rubber across the parking lot, and slammed my bumper into a flag pole I was looking right at but staring right through. Granted: most people probably don’t possess my degree of stupidity; but I think that “blindness” is common to most of us, and in more ways than one.....

Last night was the initial lesson of our mid-week Bible study of the Gospel of Mark. We watched a short video, listened as our shepherd “filled in the blanks” of questions asked in the book, and then finally utilized the last thirty minutes or so for discussion. When pastor noted that, even though we’re all reading the same Bible, our individual journeys give us different perspectives, I agreed, but was, as always, dissatisfied with how we, as a body, seem content to leave the view the story in historical terms. If the reality of His resurrection is not confirmed unto us today, in a way that all doubt can be tossed aside concerning the promise, then all we do actually have is a bound copy of chapter and verse. I’ll concede that there’s a lot of nonsense out there, counterfeit imitations of the real deal, but that’s all part of learning as we go. Give me His rod and His staff, and an occasional thump in my cognitive reasoning…..

"Postscript From Another Source...................."

I discovered the following this morning while enjoying that quiet space before the rest of the house comes out of hibernation. It is the December 22nd entry in a Frederick Buechner devotional entitled "Listening to Your Life". It seemed a good addendum to my last couple of posts.

"I do not believe that such groups as these which I found my way to not long after returning from Wheaton, or Alcoholic Anonymous, which is the group they all grew out of, are perfect any more than anything human is perfect, but I believe that the Church has an enormous amount to learn from them. I also believe that what goes on in them is far closer to what Christ meant His Church to be, and what it originally was, than much of what goes on in most churches I know. These groups have no buildings or official leadership or money. They have no rummage sales, no altar guilds, no every-member canvases. They have no preachers, no choirs, no liturgy, no real estate. They have no creeds. They have no program. They make you wonder if the best thing that could happen to many a church might not be to have its building burn down and to lose all its money. Then all that the people would have left would be God and each other.

The church often bears an uncomfortable resemblance to the dysfunctional family. There is the authoritarian presence of the minister-the professional who knows all of the answers and calls most of the shots-whom few ever challenge, either because they don't dare to or because they feel it would do no good if they did. There is the outward camaraderie and inward lonliness of the congregation. There are the unspoken rules and hidden agendas, the doubts and disagreements that, for propriety's sake, are kept more or less under cover. There are people with all sorts of enthusiasms and creativities which are not often enough made use of or even recognized because the tendency is not to rock the boat, but to keep on doing things the way they have always been done."

"Me and My Shadow........................."

After reading my last post, Wayne asked if I was “more comfortable” in the pew these days. If so, it has nothing to do with my view of the present-day status of the Church in general. A couple of years ago, I saw a fellow at the mall wearing a ball cap announcing himself to be a Viet Nam veteran. Nothing so strange about that. I wear one, myself, that so labels me with the Navy. Beneath those three words on his, though, was also stitched: “When I left, we were winning!” Whether he meant that to be a political statement or not is beyond me; but should my earthly departure be anytime soon, I’m not so sure I could say the same regarding Christianity as an ecclesiastical institution purposed to reach the world. We may be walking converts through the front door; but, in arming them merely with our doctrinal version of the Book rather than the reality of what Jesus brings to us via the Cross, what we don’t lose out the back door is “community” more than it is an “army”.....

I’m not saying we can’t know the Spirit in such gathering, or demanding we all need to be out thumping our Bible on some street corner; but I do sometimes wonder how much we resemble what Jesus had in mind when He uttered “Upon this rock”. Indeed, I have a hard time believing the Church, as it exists, constitutes a foe against which “the gates of hell shall not prevail”. The following is something I wrote more than two years ago, just recently re-discovered tucked between the pages of an old read; and, while it was meant to express my view of a personal commitment to the faith, it applies as well to the Body as a whole:

“Conversion, if it does anything, ought to confirm itself in my life. If Jesus indeed lives in me via a Holy Ghost indwelling, then such fact ought to manifest itself and reveal the Gospel. What I have received via this covenant established with God ought to be evident, not only unto me, but also unto others as the journey continues. Faith isn’t a matter of me creating something from nothing. It is the Almighty in me, proving Himself as I go. Who and what I am in Christ is not determined by my will, but His. He is my father; He is not my fancy; and this far into our relationship, it yet remains a work of grace.”

Whether corporately or independently, we stumble and we have our struggles. Humanity remains humanity. In either scenario, victory is in a surrender unto Him, not in another program, another seminar, another promise…..



i

"In The Middle of Nowhere......................."

“Either we climb down into the abyss willingly, with our eyes open, or we risk falling into it with our eyes closed - a point on which religion and psychiatry seem to agree.”.....Frederick Buechner, “Confusion of Face”

Wednesday evening, just as I was ready to walk out our front door and drive to our midweek service, the local emergency broadcast system suddenly gave warning that the weather outside was more than merely the minor amount of rainfall we knew but a few moments ago. Looking through the window, I found trees hysterically dancing in the wind, huge displays of lightening strikes skipping across the sky, thunder claps exploding as if someone was bombing the neighborhood, and a small torrential river of water flowing down the slope of our street toward the creek. For more than thirty minutes, I watched while the weatherman showed us Doplar representation of many whirling masses whose intensity increased as they went; but, when all was quite on the Northern Kentucky front, no actual tornadoes had touched down. A few houses down by the road and a small nearby church had flooded basements. Photographers showed up for about an hour taking pictures of the aftermath...

There’s a certain portion of Scripture found in the Book of Revelation that’s long given me reason enough to pause and take a good look at Christianity in its present form. Anything in that section of your Bible, of course, suggests mystery beyond a man’s ability to fully comprehend. When John writes, under an anointing, though, of a prostitute that sits “upon many waters, with whom the kinds of the earth have committed fornication, and the inhabitants of the earth have been made drunk with the wine of her fornication”, I can make no other sense of it other than to equate it unto a personification of the Church. Such image is said to actually be a great city, Babylon by name, and old-time Holiness preached it as being the Vatican; but if I ever really believed that, it became clear to me along the way that corruption isn’t denominationally exclusive. What I question is God’s command for His people to “Come out of her”. With everything that’s blowing out there, where do you go?...

Even as I voice such interrogative, I well realize that there are many who are very satisfied with their religious affiliation. My good buddy, Wayne, writes of his own experience within Catholicism and his journey has fed my soul. There’s a new link posted on my sidebar that will take you to “Under the Overpass”, a minister who’s reaching out to the inner city in a way that touched my heart. So, maybe it is not a matter of seeking some certain location, but of following His voice as He leads us through all of the nonsense men have brought into the program. If we have indeed arrived at some prophetical point where God’s judgment is going to shake the very foundations of the ecclesiastical house that man has built, yet there is assurance in Him. If atmospheric disturbances are as much a part of “church” as anything else, then let it be known that a man can have peace in the midst of the storm. I’ll leave the ship and abandon the pew only by His tug at my heart…

"Continuing in Confidence...................."

One of the Biblical verses we examined in regards to hypocrisy this past weekend was Acts 24:16, where the Apostle Paul, in defending his cause unto the governor of Caesarea, avowed how he exercised himself to “always have a conscience void of offense toward God and toward men”. That certainly sounds worthy enough for us, as believers, to imitate; but, as I asked the class, what exactly does that imply? Alice, while wandering through Wonderland, once quizzed Humpty Dumpty over his use of a particular term; and, when they quibbled about his right to so assign a personal definition to a word, the puffed-up, animated egg-head said that the only question in that matter concerned which was to be master: Language? Or the one who brought it forth? My point in quizzing those there in the room, however, was not about gaining a dictionary explanation of “conscience”, but about giving them pause as to whether their sense of morality being free from guilt actually held any concrete status other than their own pronouncement of such state…..

Theologians have long divided the Scriptural account of God’s relationship with humanity into seven over-lapping, dispensational segments that reflect His manner of “allowing people to be people”. In the Garden, of course, man was pronounced innocent before Adam rebelled and rejected his Creator’s blessing; but henceforth, or at least until Noah climbed aboard the ark under a forecast for heavy rain, those early members of society lived by their individual, mental ethics. We know them only by one chapter within the Book and, therein, merely by a long list of “so-and-so begat so-and-so”; but we are immediately informed afterwards that God wasn’t at all pleased with where humanity’s moral navigation had taken them. Permitting one of the original bunch to ride out the storm, however, seems to indicate a flood wasn’t intended to do anything other than give Him fresh approach to the problem. Conscience was still alive. Now, though, we were to learn we’re no better at being righteous as a self-governed community than we were as separate units…..

So it has proven to be with every phase of this divinely appointed journey. If our having no conscience designates us as psychopaths, possessing one doesn’t always mean it is anchored in Him. What we believe about what we do and who we are can have evolved out of nothing more than that which has been fed into our thinking by our parents, the church as we have experienced it, and the world around us; and, in sorting it all out, I want better than someone else’s ecclesiastical viewpoint when it comes down to the nitty-gritty. It’s not enough for me to read it in print. While you might give me something to chew on and process, it will not be swallowed until it gets approved by more than just your witness. I walk by life as it comes to me, by faith in what He has already proven unto me, and by such truth as He gives to me each time I stumble upon His oasis. Trying to illustrate that latter portion to those around me, I utilized a scene from an old movie and brought left fingertip to meet right fingertip. “E.T. phone home”, I said; “It’s as simple as that!”…..

"To Say the Yeast.............................."

For the last two years, we have turned our sanctuary over to a local biker group on Sunday evenings; and, this weekend being their second annual reach-out, our pastor asked the minister who is their shepherd to speak to us. It was no sermon, in terms of his having forged a message out of chapter and verse. His silver beard and moustache blended well with his hair pulled back into a single braid hanging nearly to his waist. On his right bicep was a large tattoo, quite visible since there were no sleeves on his shirt. Denims, boots, and a fancy belt buckle completed the image. When he talked, however, any perception of him being some rough, tough, hogger with a chip on his shoulder was mentally erased. If he was yet passionate about Harleys, such love now took second place to another that had captured his heart along the way…..

In introducing him, Terry spoke of different cultures existing within our society and how, if we would but take time to investigate, we would find that people are people in spite of those things which tend to identify us as individuals. Then, in speaking of his acquaintance with this fellow, he noted that, while character is often altered in Christ, he thought personality to perhaps be genetically wired into us at birth. His foundation for such belief was laid in witnessing his own daughters, right from early age, exhibit two completely opposite natures. Whether that truth can be taken to the extremes that some wish is another matter, but it seems to me that, even if we ARE programmed to hold certain inclinations wherein we vary one from the other, the fact is: we all, also, face the same struggles with our humanity. It aint easy being green…..

Invited to present a portion of the Sunday school lesson this past weekend, I used an Adlai Stevenson quote to define the topic. “Hypocrisy,” he said, “is a politician who cuts down a redwood and then mounts the stump to give a speech on conservation.” Everyone smiled. Everyone was familiar with the accusation as Jesus once pinned it on the Pharisees. Had anyone in the room ever looked at someone else and mentally, at least, so classified the person in such terms? Again, facial expressions gave me my answer. An almost audible gasp, though, came forth when I asked if anyone had ever directed such label at them. Christ, after all, referred to the condition as being a kind of “religious leaven” that puffs us up in our own righteousness. All it takes is a Book and a membership card minus the Holy Ghost check-ups…..