...beckoning, urging

I want to walk as a child of the light; I want to follow Jesus.

God set the stars to give light to the world; the star of my life is Jesus.

In Him there is no darkness at all; the night and the day are both alike.

The Lamb is the light of the city of God: Shine in my heart, Lord Jesus.

---Kathleen Thomerson, 1966

In the total dark the smallest light stands out, bright as a beacon. There is no question, the source of the light, the direction from which it shines, how to aim to walk toward it. 

In the shining grey of dawn, that same small light is not so easy to pinpoint. Where it is shining, how big the light is, what it reflects off, even how to walk toward its source--none of this is as clear in a changed environment. Is the light shining down, out, up, around, over? 

Who knew light was so hard to put your finger on?

This text deals with the duality of light, peculiar to religious expression. In the faith view of Christianity, Jesus is a light out front of us, to guide us in the right path. This light guides both our belief and our everyday action, leading us to consider the quality of Jesus’ light to form our own quality of life.

But there is a second aspect to the light that is Jesus. That light exists not only outside of us, to guide, but dwells soul-deep to light our inner lives. Jesus lives and works in the world, but also lives and works in our hearts--both beckoning and urging. This light guides our steps, and illuminates our spirits.

I want to walk as a child of the light.

...remedy, not ruin

life is full, and frantic, and beautiful, and challenging--when, each moment, our lives become ever more imbued with the sacred; when, each moment, christ is reborn in us , fully human. this one wild, glorious life just may be, with its sacred holy days, our remedy rather than our ruin. #ibelieve #wildlife #onelife #love

...throwing open heaven's door

Good Christian friends, rejoice with heart and soul and voice!

Now ye hear of endless bliss: Jesus Christ was born for this.

He has opened heaven’s door, and we are blest forevermore.

Christ was born for this, Christ was born for this!

---Medieval Latin caril, 14th cent.

In their masterful score for the movie Frozen, the writing team of Robert Lopez and Kristen Anderson-Lopez penned a line that sticks in my head, and in my heart. The context was a blossoming romance, but the line applied to all kinds of interactions before the movie was finished. It is, simply, genius:

            Love is an open door.

If I ever talked with the Lopez duo, I believe I might ask them if they are fans of medieval Latin carols. I’d ask, because this carol, from as early as the 14^th century, really contains the message on the lips of so many little ones (and bigger ones) after Frozen became a world-wide sensation. In this carol, we hear the good news—Jesus was born to fling open heaven’s door. Jesus did it then, over two thousand years ago, and Jesus continues to do it today—throwing open heaven’s door, leaving it wide open (Jesus…were you born in a barn???)…almost as if just anyone could go walking in.

Like he was born for this, this kind of endless bliss. Like, like love is an open door.

...being enough

A confession? This time of year gives me an inferiority complex. I continually seem to come up short, run late, disappoint myself.

Advent beckons to me, to come away, to quiet myself, to slow my breathing, to wait in stillness for the world to turn upside down. And year after year, my already tumped-over world gets in the way of my good intentions. And year after year, my 'meant to's turn into 'should have's, and anticipation becomes regret.

Christmas beckons, with its glitter and sparkle, its jingle and laughter. And year after year, I run out of calendar on the way to making magic. Just-right gifts don't get bought, wrapping paper stays wrapped around the cardboard tube, carols remain unsung. What good is being a visionary, with these feet of clay?

I want to believe, though, that what I bring is enough. That this broke-down season, this cobbled together holiday, this Charlie Brown tree of a practice that is my attempt, despite my best intentions--that this offering is enough. Leonard Cohen wrote:
     Ring the bells that still can ring
     Forget your perfect offering
     There is a crack in everything
     That's how the light gets in.

Still trying. But I will be the one, bringing up the rear, toting my imperfect offering.
It's enough. Thanks be to God.

...fit our feet

     From the abundance of mercies of a tender God,
     the dawn we have yearned for will break at the horizon,
     to shed light on us who are turned around in darkness,
     weak with the fear that darkness brings,
     to fit our feet for the paths of peace.
               --Luke 1:78-79/para.laca.

When the world has you turned around. When your eyes strain to see for the shadows. When you need saving--from this life, from the hands of those who seek your harm, from the fear that keeps you bound to the same old ways that didn't work even when they were new, from the image that stares back at you in the mirror, from your own self in the silence. When you're out of ideas, and energy, and hope.

Then. Then, it might be time to fit your feet for paths of peace. Then, it might be time to walk in the ways of peace beside your Guide. Then, if might be time to doggedly pursue the peace that so often eludes you. Then, it might be time to rise up, and be a maker.

Peacemaker. Blessed are you...

...call for ya

Mary got an angelic visit with a life-changing message. Shepherds got a world premiere anthem from the sky with promises of peace (and quite possibly a light show). Wise, wise science guys from the East got sky charts that lined up just right.

<sigh> Things were so much clearer, back in Bible times...

Calling. Do you have one? Have you always? How did it come to you? Has it ever changed?

...what if you're wrong? 

One thing I am certain of: I always pictured myself, at 50-something, knowing. You know, knowing what the path was. What I should be doing. How I should be getting from A to B. What A and B even ARE. 

<facepalm> Things were so much clearer, back in Bible times...

And then I hear the voice of the prophet:
     "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord,
     "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, 
      plans to give you hope and a future."
               --Jeremiah 29:11
And I realize, from this side of 50, that those "plans" that God has for me, the ones that give me "hope and a future"--maybe, just maybe, those plans are less about doing specific things at specific times, and more about living with my face turned toward the light, walking in hope. Maybe, just maybe, life is the sign I've been waiting for.

...not saying I'd turn down a chat with an angel, though...

...born of wisdom

A common topic of tweets, taunts, and challenges of late has been who is 'smarter', who is the 'wise guy', who knows what is really going on, how the world really works. Lots of talk about wisdom--is there any way to separate the talk from the truth?

Yesterday's blog post was on the concept of righteousness, and how (sometimes) misunderstood it is. In thinking about wisdom, I believe it is difficult to come to a meeting of the minds on what wisdom is, how it is noticed, and in what ways it manifests in the lives of those who are wise.

For some help, I turned initially to the wisdom literature of Hebrew scripture. The Proverbs speak a lot to the subject, and in a way that appeals to the cerebral aspects of my personality. "Self," I say, "what do you think about wisdom?" I could have found plenty to fuel my thoughts in the sometimes pithy, occasionally intellectual statements gathered in these sayings.

In the end, I found guidance on wisdom, how to know it when we experience it, from the little, practical epistle of James. It left me saying, "Well, obviously. Wisdom could not make its way in this world in any other way." See what you think:

     Who is wise and understanding among you?
     Show by your good life
     that your works are done 
     with gentleness born of wisdom.
               --James 3:13/NRSV

So. Are you counted among the wise in this world? If you are, you won't need to tell anyone. Your gentle life will speak with clarity about your wisdom and understanding. The way you live will leave no doubt. 

...righteous, dude

Righteous is a difficult concept in our supercool world. Being referred to as righteous might be right up there with holy, or pious...perhaps a step below goody-two-shoes, or even (*gasp*) community organizer.

When did it become so problematic to be called righteous? What IS righteous, anyway? The dictionary says that righteous is "morally right or justifiable" (which I would argue may be worlds apart), or "virtuous". Hmmm...somehow virtuous sounds a little better. As a working definition, I think Spike Lee's 1989 movie title, Do the Right Thing, will do.

Once we get past the problematic moniker, how does one go about, well, BEING righteous? Again, we'd get pretty far referring back to Spike Lee (*ahem*). Three passages of holy text always come to mind as I contemplate righteousness; I leave them here, some in paraphrase, for your consideration.

     What is it that holiness asks of me? Simply this--
     to pursue justice, 
     to act from compassion, 
     to walk the earth in humility, alongside my creator.
               --Micah 6:8/para. laca. 

     Is not this the kind of fasting I have chosen:
     to loose the chains of injustice
     and untie the cords of the yoke,
     to set the oppressed free
     and break every yoke?
     Is it not to share your food with the hungry
     and to provide the poor wanderer with shelter--
     when you see the naked, to clothe them,
     and not to turn away from your own flesh and blood?
     then your light will break forth like the dawn,
     and your healing will quickly appear;
     then your righteousness will go before you,
     and the glory of the Lord will be your rear guard.
               --Isaiah 58:6-8/NIV

     Jesus answered, "To love God with every part of your life,
     what shows and what only you know, 
     is the most vital element of a righteous life.
     Just as vital to righteousness is your love and regard
     for your neighbor and yourself,
     as dearly loved children of God's. 
     No law or prophecy contradicts these.
               --Matthew 22:37-40/para. laca.

In quietness and in confidence, let us reclaim righteousness as a virtue. This? This is a life I can get behind.

...leave no one behind

For the hanged and beaten.

For the shot, drowned, and burned.

For the tortured, tormented, and terrorized.

For those abandoned by the rule of law.

We will remember.

With hope because hopelessness is the enemy of justice.

With courage because peace requires bravery.

With persistence because justice is a constant struggle.

With faith because we shall overcome.

--The National Memorial for Peace and Justice

When I say, Life's not fair, I'm mostly kidding, at least when I'm talking about my own life. Little inconveniences, bad breaks, someone's bad choices (not always mine)--these comprise the extent of my life's unfair moments. So, were I to cry out for justice on my own behalf, it would mostly be a mockery, or misplaced, or a momentary self-pity.

But this I know, as surely as the other. If, because life is, on the whole, just for me, I should assume that justice is accomplished for all, and the time for striving after a just world is past, I am dead wrong with the sort of bull-headed wrongness driven in tight circles by ego, short-sightedness, and self-worship. If, because my life is fine, I decide that all lives are fine, I am only a mercenary and not a citizen, out to get the spoils of this life without regard for my sisters' and brothers' welfare.

Real justice leaves no one behind. Hope won't allow it. 

...all the time in the world

Is time the ultimate commodity in our too-busy, attention-starved, stretched-thin society? No? Then what would you give for another free hour per day, another free day in each week?

Okay...maybe so.

We even monetize the language we use around time.
We make time.
We take time.
We spend time, we waste it.
We save time, and invest it.
When we're in trouble, we buy time.
When we are slap out of luck, we run out of it.

When we're Cher, we wish to turn back time.
...who am I kidding?...when we're anyone, we wish to turn back time, every now and again.

Every appliance from the washing machine to the personal computer (to whatever is being dropped in its own IPO tomorrow) is marketed for the express purpose of saving time.

We are not so much slaves to the clock as we are slaves to the dream of mastering it. Is there a more hopeful thought than this--that there is enough time? There. is. enough. time.

Because there is One for whom time is measured differently. And we are embraced, for all time, by that One.
     A thousand ages in thy sight 
     are like an evening gone;
     short as the watch that ends the night
     before the rising sun.
                                      ---Isaac Watts

Go ahead, friend; take all the time you need. There's all the time in the world.

...filled full

A promise is the epitome of hope.

A promise is all potential-- freshman year, beginner's luck, pony legs, sloppy kisses. A promise, with all its good intentions, is riskily untested. Stepping out on a promise takes faith, is the stuff of faith, maybe. Trusting a promise is always a bit of a gamble, putting our eggs into a basket whose bottom we have yet to see.

What a comfort, then, to bear witness to a promise fulfilled! To tell the story, the way it happened in our own life. To breathe, and realize we'd been holding our breath for all of time, till now, till now. Heart overflows, eyes overflow with the realization that hope does not disappoint.

Promise fulfilled. Filled full of the good that is in store. Thanks be.

...a wish with feet

'Hope is the thing with feathers, that perches in the soul...' 
...opined Emily Dickinson, in her simply profound way.

Today, this day, I think, in fear and trembling, I may beg to differ. Today, this day, Advent begins, with armfuls of hope and heart swelled with song.

And after spending the day thinking about, talking about, sitting with hope, I think perhaps, that hope is a weightier thing than a flitting, flighty creature. I think, perhaps, that hope has heft, substance, mass. Hope is not the kind of thing you want to kick in the dark mid-night on the way to the bathroom; hope won't give.

The difference, this, between hope, and wish: hope is a wish with intention, with motion, with backbone. Hope is a wish with feet.

Hope is a wish with feet.

...we never knew

All the way my Savior leads me; cheers each winding path I tread,

gives me grace for every trial, feeds me with the living bread;

though my weary steps may falter, and my soul athirst may be,

gushing from the Rock before me, lo! a spring of joy I see.

---Fanny J. Crosby, 1875

There are times the path seems winding, and the end unseen. At those times, when each step grows heavy, and the way seems never-ending, a hint of breeze refreshes, cheers. A rest along the way, to refuel and rest, can cast the day in a different light.

And when that path is life, and goals are elusive, and progress seems awfully rare, grace is that refreshing—gift, given with no thought of return, or of its having been earned in the first place. The words of our brother Jesus, urging us on toward greater compassion, more tenderness, consistent understanding—these words are food, fuel.

And the very presence of Christ, in the midst of our mess, feet on our path, God with us—this presence is pure joy, springing up like cool spring water, unexpected, thrilling, a little shocking. The very thing we never knew we were thirsty for.

All. the. way.

...tell one thing

For the harvests of the Spirit, thanks be to God.

For the good we all inherit, thanks be to God.

For the wonders that astound us, for the truths that still confound us,

most of all, that love has found us, thanks be to God.

---Fred Pratt Green, 1970

I know you’ve done it, and I know it has made you squirm, sigh, or roll your eyes (depending on your generation). Go around the circle --- the grownups’ table AND the kids’ table at your family Thanksgiving, the fellowship tables at church supper in November, the class seating arrangement in Sunday School --- and tell one thing you’re thankful for. Is there any exercise guaranteed to bring out the trite and repetitive in all of us? And yet, is there any chance most of us would stop to express gratitude for the richness of this life without going around the circle?

This hymn is a list of rich joys of the abundant life for which we can all be thankful; the list includes thanks for things I never thought of as rich until Fred Pratt Green brought them to my attention between the covers of our hymnal. No matter how world-wise and jaded we get, wonders still astound us, and (thank God) some truths still confound us. And best of all, love has found us.

There’s a place for us in the circle. Go around…thanks be to God.

...harvest home

All the world is God’s own field, fruit unto his praise to yield,

Wheat and tares together sown, unto joy or sorrows grown.

First the blade, and then the ear, then the full corn shall appear,

Lord of harvest, grant that we wholesome grain and pure may be.

---Henry Alford, 1844

It doesn’t look like corn. It looks like wide blade grass; St. Augustine, or maybe Johnson grass. Not like corn. Not at first. But wait. Just wait. Keep caring for the plant, watering, weeding, tending. And wait. It doesn’t look like corn at first. But time will tell.

Our own efforts at spreading the good news about God’s lavish gift of abundant life, and sharing life's rich journey with others, may be like tending that corn. It may not seem like our efforts are yielding any results. Funny thing is, though, our task is to  water, weed, tend, care. And wait. It may not look like a harvest at first. But time will tell.

...when I'm empty

O fill me with your fullness, Lord,

until my very heart o’erflow

in kindling thought and glowing word,

Your love to tell, Your praise to show.

---Frances R. Havergal, 1872

‘Service burn-out’ is a common complaint among those who serve in positions of leadership in the church, both clergy and laity. The formula of unlimited needs answered by limited resources can exhaust the heartiest of servants. A common cause of burn-out, I think, is seeking to serve ‘empty’. Often, those who serve never take the time to be filled, inspired, refreshed.

This text reminds me that our source for the good that we do is God’s goodness. We are reminded that we speak what God speaks to us, that we lead as we are led, that we teach what we are taught by the Spirit, that we serve the world out of the fullness of God’s grace in us. In our eagerness to pour out our lives for others, let us not forget to draw from the source of our fullness.

Stop us, God, when we are empty. Fill us, that we may minister out of the riches of your goodness.

...on being relentless

Let us be a servant people, reconciling, ending strife;

seeking ways more just of sharing and of ordering human life.

Fill us with a glowing vision of this world as it should be;

send us forth to change that vision into blest reality.

---Joy F. Patterson, 1994

To be called to Christianity is to be called to labor. We are to take up a shared yoke, plowing shoulder to shoulder with Jesus in the humble chores of the household of God. We are to serve wholeheartedly, to share openhandedly.

We are not called to be peacekeepers, holding together some uneasy truce between suspicious adversaries with tape and twine and suspect promises. Rather we are to aspire to peacemaking, to the bold and audacious task of reconciling brokenness and doubt with trust built on God’s abiding love. This vision, this dream, is one that can set the world right.

But, sisters and brothers. There are teeth in this gospel call. In addition to the courageous labor of service, peacemaking, sharing, and dreaming, we are called to more. We are called, relentlessly, to the dogged pursuit of justice—the justice we seek out of a knowledge of God’s overflowing love for each and every one of us, least to greatest.

So my friends, don’t you get tired. The vision of a just world is urging us on—and justice can set things right.

...be like

Gracious Spirit, dwell with me, I would gracious be;

help me now thy grace to see, I would be like thee;

and, with words that help and heal, thy life would mine reveal;

and, with actions bold and meek, for Christ my Savior speak.

---Thomas Toke Lynch, 1855

One of my favorite movies as a child was Walt Disney’s The Jungle Book. A soundtrack highlight for me was the scat jazz ‘I Wanna Be Like You’, sung by the masterful Louis Prima and penned by Richard and Robert Sherman. In the chorus, King Louie sings,

            Oh, ooh-bee-doo, I wanna be like you-hu-hu,

            I wanna walk like you, talk like you, too…

Now, in the movie, King Louie had his own reasons for wanting to be like Mowgli. But I thought about this song when I read this verse of today’s hymn for Children’s Sabbath.

I thought of it because, as a follower of Jesus, there is nothing I want more than to be like Jesus. I want to walk ( and live) in the way of Jesus; I want to talk (and love) in the way of Jesus. ‘I would gracious be;’ I want to live my whole life letting my words, my actions, my intentions be motivated and guided by the gift of love that has surrounded me from birth.

How will I live if I know that I am representing Jesus to the world? I want Jesus to speak through my life by my actions, bold in love and meek when honoring others. I want to show Jesus’ life in mine, through words that help and heal, in a world where words often tear down and injure, or where silence causes wounds of its own.

Gracious spirit, dwell with me, I would gracious be…

I wanna walk like you, talk like you, too…

...into my brokenness

Jesus, the name that calms my fears, that bids my sorrows cease;

‘tis music in the sinner’s ears; ‘tis life and health and peace.

He speaks, and listening to His voice, new life the dead receive;

the mournful broken hearts rejoice, the humble poor believe.

---Charles Wesley, 1739

I don’t like admitting it. It doesn’t make me proud, isn’t the sort of admission that I’d want engraved on a plaque or cross-stitched on a pillow. But because I don’t like it doesn’t make it any less true: I’ve been battling the way of the world lately, and the world is winning. I mean, I am beat. If you are not seeing the scars, it must be because I’m dressing right. I am just weary and worn with the meanness that seems to be around every corner, waiting to pounce on the weak or unsuspecting. And the weariness feels cumulative and exponential, building on itself like a runaway snowball (children, remind me to tell you about ‘snowballs’ from the good old days).

In my weariness, it is so easy to forget. To forget to listen for the voice that is always whispering life into the stillness. To forget to listen for the presence that is always calling into the absence. To forget to listen for the joy that is always singing into the despair. To forget to listen for the voice of my brother Savior speaking wholeness into my brokenness.

But, oh. When I remember. The mournful, broken hearts rejoice…

...love pitches a tent

Love divine, all loves excelling, joy of heaven to earth come down,

Fix in us Thy humble dwelling: all Thy faithful mercies crown.

Jesus, Thou art all compassion, pure, unbounded love Thou art;

Visit us with Thy salvation; enter every trembling heart.

---Charles Wesley, 1747

You a camper? I am…was…have been…wouldn’t mind being again. I grew up camping with my folks and brother, both in tents and in a way-cool pop-top VW van camper that seemed in my teen years to have all the comforts of, well, almost-home. For those of you familiar with the groovy contraptions, my sleep spot was the hammock hung over the front seats (because I sleep curled up anyway---perfect). Tim slept in the pop top. We have slept in that van in every sort of weather (including a surprise tropical storm), and even in someone’s front yard outside Baton Rouge by mistake (another story for another day)! Our longest trip was a 5 week jaunt out west, as far as Glacier National Park and back, most of the trip toting a genuine tumbleweed (don’t ask) that took up much of our precious free space. Dad even drove straight through the night to get us from Oklahoma to the AHS parking lot in time for Mr. Goff’s band camp to begin (‘cause didn’t nobody miss band camp).

Shortest camping trip? A bit shorter. Counting car time, it lasted 4 hours. Henry and I were the parents of a toddler, and looking forward to passing on a joy of camping adventure to Sam. The itinerary went something like this: plan, pack, check for approximately 2 days; load up the car with tons of stuff (camping, little kid, pregnant lady, etc.); drive just across the state line to FDR State Park in Pine Mtn GA; unload tons of stuff in the dark (yeah, those of you who camp, or have kids, or watch comedy movies, or read Greek tragedies---you know where this is going); set a lit kerosene lantern safely (haha) out of reach on the picnic table while assembling the 347 pieces of the new family-size tent; listen in horror as prized first-born son screams in agony after grasping the hot kerosene lantern; cuddle child, bandage hand, sing songs, hang lantern on tree, mutter under breath, try to continue with the joy of camping adventure; give the whole thing up; do everything in reverse; arrive back home---4 hours later. Even with this less-than-stellar start, we enjoyed some good times in the woods over the years following.

When I read the line in this verse of Charles Wesley's wonderful hymn---‘fix in us Thy humble dwelling’---I can’t help but think back to those years of pitching tents in the woods with little kids in tow. There was a time in our collective faith memory where pitching a tent figures pretty prominently, too. When the people of Israel wandered in the wild places, they packed the ‘tent of meeting’ with them, inviting God’s presence among them even in (or especially in) their wandering.

For us today, the cry of our hearts is that the God of Love would pitch a tent in us---among us, and within us. Imagine the ways we might experience transformation, with the tent of love fixed in our souls.

Visit us with your salvation, Divine Love. Fix your dwelling in us.