"Isaiah 1:18.................................."

One of the women I work with at school attends a small Pentecostal church over in Indiana and we often discuss some aspect of the Bible while watching the kids outside at recess. In such fashion, I asked her today what she thought Jesus meant in the Sermon on the Mount when He declared that the “pure in heart” shall “see” God. Her immediate response was to simply point to those children in our care and pronounce them to be as close as possible to fulfilling such description. In her mind, they walked now, and would always walk, in a state of innocence. Yet, in reducing the verse to that point of view, she appeared “guilty” to me of looking, as others, merely toward some future event of being welcomed into Heaven due to some sinless state of existence……

When I followed my references, they took me to Hebrews where the writer admonishes us to “follow peace with all men, and holiness, without which no man”, likewise, shall not be able to “see the Lord”. It’s another foundational tenet long stressed within my denomination. The definition of that state, of course, varied from one assembly to another, but always came with a long list of “shalls” and “shall-nots” that somehow would one day swing wide the Pearly Gates for the party who achieved them. I found it well that the Book also directed me to that portion in Corinthians where Paul notes how “Now we see through a glass darkly”, for surely our vision, our understanding is yet blurred in many ways and it is here, not in some future co-existence with Him, where God is trying to break through to our mentality…..

Within that same text preached in Matthew, Jesus speaks of how the light of the body is the eye and, if the eye be “single”, the whole body will be full of light. I once did a search on that word and learned its original meaning in Greek referred to two different entities becoming so entwined that they, in the end, are one. What if, then, the “born-again” experience isn’t really about gaining entrance into an eternal kingdom, but an earthly one established with “the Holy Ghost in me”? What if the gift given us via the work of the Cross isn’t so much a blank check to continue being who and what we’ve always been, as it is a re-connection with the Creator wherein we might know Him, be made one with Him, even if only temporarily, through an inner hook-up?.....

I’ve swam in the overflow of that well on occasion and, when the waters receded, I still saw “through a glass darkly”. Wrapped up in His presence, I “knew no sin”. Stumbling down the path a bit later under my own reasoning was another matter. And yet, having experienced the reality of His promise unto me, I found assurance in taking the next step……

"Purgered Preaching...................."

When a friend from my old church asked for help at the Youth Detention Center this weekend, I and three of my colleagues jumped at the opportunity. Saturday evening, however, it was yet a mystery to me as to what I would share. The only items currently being cooked on my mental burner were a couple of blog entries recently read elsewhere. The first fellow, having just noted his lack of membership within the Christian community because of an inability to view Jesus as God, now brought forth that all one needed to create a body of believers was a tribal totem pole built from chapter and verse before which all fall down. To prove his point, he erected his own and asked me, in a comment here, for my opinion about the matter. We haven’t yet talked, but he may be surprised to learn I find his thinking conducive to my definition of faith. What it comes down to, though, is a question of where his heart is…..

The second man also admitted to having no idea how it was possible for Deity to have indwelt humanity in such a way as to be born of a virgin, suffer the cross, and then come forth from the grave. The Gospel remains, unto him, a mystery; and yet the truth of its message is manifested, as far as he is concerned, in the lives of those people who frequent the homeless shelter he runs on a daily basis. If Christ had “no place to lay his head”, if ministry took place not so much in a synagogue as it did in the ghetto, then it is still in such arenas that he experiences a connection with that One who fed the poor so long ago. Even if he doesn’t have all the answers, what he does possess is an inner anchor-line, a tug on his heart that goes with him in the next step; and every so often, if but for a moment, it takes him through the veil, enough, any way, to renew him in strength for the journey…..

Sunday morning it came together. If all we possess is an image of God that we, ourselves, have assembled, in Biblical terms, we “reap what we sow”. The Bible is a place where we can go and find God, but it is NOT God and it was not meant to serve as a golden calf. In truth, He is all around us and desires to be in us, the “kingdom of God” actually a inner reconnection that Jesus brings to us, an altar where we can meet with Him if we are but willing to face ourself for who and what we are, to acknowledge our need of Him in our affairs. We do not completely get Him in the fullness of who He is. We couldn’t handle it. Yet, just as we have perhaps felt a small shock of electricity without being blown away by the full force that was there, even so is an encounter with His presence enough to convince us and to breathe life into words such as grace, forgiveness, and peace. The glimpse is temporal, but floods us with faith…..

Prayer after the service was strong. Kids left the sanctuary in tears…

"Chasing Dreams................................"

Learning that an old friend from the railroad had recently called my former assembly trying to get in contact with me, I, in turn, contacted him yesterday, figuring that some former co-worker of ours had probably “given up the ghost”. Instead, what he wanted was my participation in a ministry he was about to undertake. John has a heart of gold, good “horse sense” in most any matter I’ve ever discussed with him, and a desire to “do something for God”; but he was knee deep in alligators on this occasion, as far as I was concerned, and wanted none of it. In the first place, while drug addiction is certainly no big problem for the Holy Ghost to eradicate, unless a man be drenched in the anointing thereof, he had better be ready for a long, hard battle the old-fashioned way, one he will lose more often than win in this arena. Secondly, when you invite government in to run the show, you’ve stepped out of just about any chance of success you might have had in the first place. Red tape, regulations, and rejection of anything spiritual will turn it all into one more program before you even get started…..

That last statement is at least one of the reasons I so enjoy visiting the Detention Center and the rescue mission. My group is a mixture from various congregations and when we speak at either facility, we simply share from our heart. We refer to the Bible, but are not bound by any one denominational interpretation of chapter and verse, believing in the Book, but also believing the Book, itself, is not Christ. We obey the rules and submit ourselves to those in authority at both places, but feel free to present the Gospel, not as “the letter of the law”, but as the reality of a risen Savior who is alive and in our midst. John has the seventh floor of a municipal building, a lawyer to ensure everything is religiously kosher, and an elected official in charge of the whole shebang. Whether seated in the sanctuary or the senate, politicians just tend to give a bad smell to the whole situation. I wish him the best, but will stick with those doors already opened unto me. I’m not out to take on the world, just walk with Him where He has already proven Himself unto me…..

"Jailhouse Theology......................"

The room at the Youth Detention Center was almost completely male dominated Sunday morning. Three young girls occupied a bench in the rear against the wall and Debbi positioned herself there beside them. The service began a bit awkwardly. A fortyish, bald-headed, ex-marine who always looks and sounds as if he wants to insure these kids know he is in charge addressed the entire group concerning some prior misbehavior. They had taken a mile from him, he sternly noted; he, in turn, would take a mile from them along the way. “Sit up and pay attention!” he barked before passing them to us for church.…

Actually, as we would leave the premises on this occasion, this same fellow would engage us in conversation apart from his charges and speak of others doing nothing but pointing a finger of condemnation for an hour and threatening hell’s fire to be waiting if repentance didn’t come forth. He appreciated our own approach to the matter. While a few of those here were indeed biding time, in “limbo” until their birthday opened a penitentiary door, most had simply made some bad choices; and what he and others on staff would like to see is even more interaction with them, opportunity for them to ask questions….

Food for thought, I suppose, although we have previously tried to encourage such and found that, unless someone gets perturbed at a point we’ve made, this congregation is not interested in posing religious inquiries. One has to “prick their thinking”, if you will, not so much insist they believe what you believe, as throw them a “carrot” while letting them know that their opinion about the matter counts. That’s not hard for me to do. I not only hold it to be true, but also find God to feel the same way. What bothers Him, it seems to me, is when we choose to eliminate His having any part in the discussion…..

"Examining the Evidence..........................

Beth and I watched the final debate the other night and, while it was refreshing for me to finally hear the two actually face each other and debate rather than simply “talk politics”, when all was said and done, Obama, in my opinion, still won the award for most polished orator. My vote, however, will go to McCain, as I believe his experience and his integrity will better lead us out of our present mess. In saying that, however, I must admit to seeing “our present mess” to be much bigger than a financial crisis. We speak of an urgency to “sit down” with other countries and negotiate peace, but more and more it becomes quite evident that we are as much at war with each other as we are elsewhere. Indeed, that fact is made no clearer anywhere than it is in our nation’s capitol; and every four years we are drawn deeper into such division via a battle for the high throne of office. Somebody wins; but the wounds fester, roots of bitterness consume us, and “united” we are not, other than perhaps in some sense of “freedom” granted us as Americans…..

It was good for me, therefore, to find the candidates and their colleagues so gathered for a charity benefit “roast” Thursday evening. Their ability to share an attempt at humor at the other’s expense did far more to soothe my soul than any one-on-one collision presented by the media previously. In truth, it seems to me that it would be much better if television individually interviewed them, allowing each to explain why he thinks his particular plan would greater benefit us in the long run. As it is, all the mud-slinging and the insufficient time allowed discussion of any certain issue just leaves me wondering whom I can really believe. How many times either supported or stood against some bill tells me nothing, for we, the general public, have no way of knowing how much pork and nonsense was riding with the transaction at the time; and, in the finality of it all, I do not need to examine their thinking, but their heart. As in ministry, so in politics: it’s not so much a man’s theology that bothers me, but the fellow, himself, who shaped it…..

"Positioning.........................."

The alley was vacant Wednesday evening when we arrived at the mission and the three of us wondered if perhaps the service had, for some reason, been cancelled. No one was visible through the locked side-entrance door, so we walked to the front of the building, pushed the buzzer, and were almost immediately ushered in by the fellow who oversees the program. Up a few steps and then through that small, dark foyer that is no longer utilized, we found our congregation already seated and ready for worship. It seems that, even though the facility is located in a section of the city that is much in need of urban renewal, the neighbors’ complaints about the men gathering outside for a cigarette after dinner had finally forced a restraint on such liberty, thus our being fifteen minutes early was actually “right on-time”…..

Granted: This group is a mixture of transients, some who may not be homeless, but well appreciate a free meal, and about ten who have qualified for temporary residence while being both trained and helped to find employment. Fact: This establishment runs a tight ship. In the seven years or so that I’ve been visiting, there’s never been one incident, to my knowledge, of anyone being under the influence of drugs or alcohol. We’ve never preached hell and damnation unto them. We share Christ and they, in turn, feed us with their response to us. Some are regulars; and, on this particular occasion, I was told that, of those, one was getting baptized at a local church and his friends had gone to view the event. Can I understand, then, the on-going situation with the near-by community? Yes; but I find it just “life as it is”…..

To me, the individuals who both frequent and who wander in from who knows where on any given night are a cultural class in their own right. They are not “beneath” me in any form or fashion. They have simply experienced existence in a manner unfamiliar to me. The circumstances that brought them to such a place have been different from my own and, had their path been mine, our present roles might well be reversed. Do I think it sad that many have no connection with family? Do I believe that a lot of churches fail in their outreach to these members of society? Do I feel like the “system”, with all its red tape, somehow leaves much to be desired in meeting their medical needs? Yes; yes; and yes. But, in truth, it also seems to me that it’s all just part of the journey, that the best any of us can do is to know God in “the next step”…..

"Encounters at the Well................................."

Today was my 67th birthday and I celebrated it by speaking to a 5th and 6th grade class in the same church school my grandsons attend about my years in the Navy. After quickly sketching that portion of the globe containing North America, Europe, Africa, and the Middle East, I briefly traced for them where my orders had taken me during the 60s, then shared the amazing ability I yet possess for vocally transposing the letters of the alphabet into Morse code. Dit-dit-dit-dah. Kids, for whatever reason, always think it’s neat to do that with their name. They were no less impressed, however, when I taught them how to encrypt a message and read for them John 3:16 written in Russian; and the key to my presentation, I think, was some enlightenment to life aboard a submarine. They grossed out over the idea of two sailors being assigned twelve hour shifts with the same bunk, laughed at my tale of once being scared by an implosion of air into the boat, and were in awe that anybody would actually like being under water for months in such cramped space……

In truth, when the teacher asked me to so address his students, I had pondered them even being interested, asked myself what possible purpose it might serve. Nonetheless, the timing was just right, public schools closed for a six-day Fall-break and no plans made on my part to fill it with a vacation in Pensacola. This morning I gathered my props, drove out about an hour early to be sure of the room, the availability of a blackboard, etcetera, and then walked over to that part of the facility housing the upper level students. Seated alone at her desk was a young woman, the older sister of my preacher friend and a person whose heart is invested in these kids. We began to talk, both of how God had led her to accept her present position and of my own history with the birthing of such ministry. We spoke of never dreaming that the passing of time would bring us to our current occupations, would change so many things along the way. For twenty minutes our spirits seemed to connect with His and it was a bit of healing for an old man’s memories of the journey……

I’ve always believed that life, for the most part, is coincidence, that the Spirit is, nonetheless, in each and every moment, and, if we allow Him, He will meet us as we go. I don’t feel any older tonight, but am somewhat refreshed for the road ahead…..

"Boiling It All Down............................"

Wednesday evening I drove to a small, nearby church to hear a young friend of mine deliver a sermon. It was only about a fifteen minute trip, but the event took me back some thirty-six years to that little, old-time holiness assembly I knew in the beginning. All the trappings of legalism had disappeared within a more than three decade interim, of course. Culture changes us as we go, even if a few fail to recognize that within their interpretation of chapter and verse. The fundamentals of the service, itself, (in this case, at least) had remained the same. A drummer, a fellow with a saxophone, and a piano player led worship, all putting their heart into the effort, but failing, for the most part, to find any sort of synchronization between them in the song coming forth. Afterwards, it took at least fifteen minutes for everyone in the pews to filter their prayer requests through a designated “catcher”; and then the entire congregation found personally preferred spots within the sanctuary to deliver the assembled list unto God as a unit. If their manner lacked “sophistication”, though, it embraced a spirit of fellowship that was held together in Him and I’ll take that any day of the week…..

Whatever one’s view of the current state of politics in this country, it is apparent to me that, not only are we not, as a nation, “on the same page”, but also that such condition is but symptoms of a greater problem. My friend’s message was delivered from his heart. I told him afterword that I’ve always liked his sermons because he remains himself and gives the reins to the Holy Ghost. He dealt, in this one, with the rod Moses held in his hand, explaining how it represented giving God all of “who and what we are” and then bringing that down to our testimony being central to any witness we give of Christ. His one failure, I thought, was in neglecting to emphasize the Spirit’s role in the matter. It’s the one key point, to me, that Christianity, as a whole, has either usurped and run wild with, or reduced to a doctrine of our deeds, alone, giving evidence of His indwelling. Indeed, I am convinced our government’s lack of integrity stems from an ecclesiastical mis-defining of the resurrection. Quoting Scripture and claiming to own membership within some certain denomination doesn’t replace maintaining an honest relationship with the reality of a risen Savior; and the truth spills over in your relationship with others…..

"Except Ye Become Like Children..........."

Two of my younger grandkids, sister and older brother, attend the elementary school where I work and they ride with me, most days, for the 15-20 minutes one-way commute. The journey there usually finds both of them in a serious state of lethargy, no life in them at all, unwilling to do anything but sleep. The trip home, however, is altogether a whole ‘nuther scenario. We play various word games, compose our own musical scores, or compete with each other in “who can see the most of whatever” contests. Monday afternoon, with neither wanting to tangle again in the “color of car” warfare we have been waging, I noted a yellow VW “punch-bug” at an intersection and suggested we might try searching for those. McKenna, though, seemed confused by the term, so I told her to look behind us. “You used to see them everywhere,” I said; and then added “but not so much anymore.” She looked at me with a “well, duh” expression on her face and replied “Well. No wonder. Nobody but 90 year-old people would want to drive something like that!”….

Children. As Art Linkletter once observed: “They say the darndest things!” Then, again, they are a work in progress and their mental mindset is being shaped as they go. I was in agreement with a friend, therefore, when she expressed an opinion that the Church seems to teach youngsters “what to think” instead of “how to think”; then was surprised to read in her comments, afterwards, another woman speaking of her father teaching her “how to think” and now having difficulty finding faith to believe. Indeed, to me, her statement but reinforces the initial supposition, for the heart of her problem, whether parental or ecclesiastical in its origin, is an erroneous definition for faith. When we discover that such commodity is a divine gift unto us, an ongoing work of the Spirit within us as, again and again, truth meets us where we are and proves itself in our life, we are set free from a “grunt and groan” attempt to produce it ourselves. Christ "in" me, the mystery of the Gospel.....

"Cinematic Portrayals of Mars and Venus............."

Weekend before last, Beth and I went to see Richard Gere and Diane Lane in “Nights in Rodanthe”. Knowing it to be Nicholas Sparks’ sequential to “The Notebook”, my expectations prepared me for another “chick flick tear-jerker”; but, in truth, I really don’t mind romantic plots as long as the theme embraces affairs of the heart. Nonsense doesn’t interest me. Sex in the city, in the country, or on the moon disgusts me when it’s presented in a format resembling nothing more than pornography. Love is not lust; and it doesn’t take full disclosure of the mating process to sell the show. Having said all that, hopefully without offending anyone, let me put my stamp of approval on this one. It brings you a story within a story, even if the ending may not be everyone’s cup of tea…..

This Saturday, the two of us returned and watched Kirk Cameron in “Fireproof”, this one written and produced by a couple of brothers who are associate pastors at a large Baptist church in Georgia. The supporting cast is composed of volunteers from their assembly, but I found no fault with their acting skills. Actually, I had no complaint with the film at all other than it seemed a bit like a tool almost any ecclesiastical community might utilize to teach its members God’s view of marriage being a covenant, not a contract. There were moments within it where its message mirrored my own selfish character in those initial years, times when a point struck home and a tear threatened to expose me for the sentimental slob I am; but, even so, this one, too, is recommended by yours truly…..

Having so critiqued the above, though, I now wish to state my belief that neither Hollywood nor the religious institution at large can come close to cloning relationship as it exists between genders. Each “coupling” is its own manuscript, its own mystery, its own grand adventure. Sunday afternoon I took my wife to dinner. She had noted being hungry, wasn’t sure what she wanted to eat, and continued to make indecisive suggestions as we motored down the expressway to nowhere in particular. Then, out of the blue, she speaks of a baked potato place and, when I fail to comprehend the location, she puts emphasis on her words to help me understand. No argument. No heated discussion. We’ve been here before and, in the long run, my ego is trumped by the bond we have created…..

Take away the rockers and the front porch, and I often think of us as resembling that television duo played by Carol Burnett and Harvey Korman years ago. Our river runs deep, is connected with His, and carries us through whatever the journey brings unto us…..

"Input........................"

It is with hesitancy that I post today, not quite sure that a week has been sufficient rest. While my job in Spec-Ed is rewarding, it also sends me home brain-weary, unable to “find the flow” in so far as putting thought to print and depending on week-ends to maintain any consistency. In the past there have been attempts to solve such problem by simply turning this into a daily journal with no more than a few sentences on whatever; but, always, that contemplative side of who I am, before too long, has won and taken me off again, out into the deep. This Wednesday a co-worker at school spoke of feeling like she was at a place where, although she realized God had not left her, His presence seemed distant. She called it a “plateau”. I told her that such term spoke to me of reaching “levels” and that I didn’t perceive our salvation to be achieved through climbing some spiritual mountain. There will always be those times when we seem to be alone, when the mystery of it all is a thick cloud through which we pass. Humanity remains humanity; and life drains us. It makes us no less Christian, no less void of faith.…

She smiled, appeared to be encouraged; and I’m back (for whatever that’s worth), at least with a promise to set the table with whatever and whenever it comes….