...you wouldn't believe what's up there!

God of Creation, all-powerful, all wise,

Lord of the universe rich with surprise,

Maker, Sustainer, and Ruler of all,

we are your children --- You hear when we call.

---Margaret Clarkson, 1987

Back when I was young and could sleep on the ground, I often spent a weekend camping with friends in the mountains of north Georgia, enjoying scenes of rugged beauty around every bend and over every hill. Being carefree (I did mention that we were young, didn’t I?), we often knew only the general area we wanted to explore, and this led to lots of wondering. I don’t mean ‘wandering’; I mean ‘wondering’, as in, “I wonder where we are now?” One particular weekend we were more aimless than usual, and had gotten onto a one-and-a-half-lane road, headed almost straight up into the sky (no easy feat for a baby-blue Monte Carlo!). At a bend in the road, we met an oncoming van, and inched over as far as we dared to let it pass. As it did, the driver waved and greeted us; we asked what was up ahead. Now, what we meant was, “Is there a camping spot up ahead?” But he had a bigger answer in mind. “Man,” he said earnestly, “you wouldn’t believe what’s up there! There’s trees, and mountains, and grass…”

That dude up on the mountain saw the world with a sense of wonder, with a delight I am usually too jaded to enjoy. In today’s hymn, Margaret Clarkson names the God of a creation ‘rich with surprise.’ As I meditate on the concept of a universe created teeming with delight and overflowing with mind-blowing creativity, I think of eclipses, lightning storms, giraffes…and grace.

You wouldn’t believe what’s up there!

...rich with surprise

God of Creation, all-powerful, all wise,

Lord of the universe rich with surprise,

Maker, Sustainer, and Ruler of all,

We are Your children --- You hear when we call.

---Margaret Clarkson, 1987

Back when I was young and could sleep on the ground, I often spent a weekend camping with friends in the mountains of north Georgia, enjoying scenes of rugged beauty around every bend and over every hill. Being carefree (I did mention that we were young, didn’t I?), we often knew only the general area we wanted to explore, and this led to lots of wondering. I don’t mean ‘wandering’; I mean ‘wondering’, as in, “I wonder where we are now?” One particular weekend we were more aimless than usual, and had gotten onto a one-and-a-half-lane road, headed almost straight up into the sky (no easy feat for a baby-blue Monte Carlo!). At a bend in the road, we met an oncoming van, and inched over as far as we dared to let it pass. As it did, the driver waved and greeted us; we asked what was up ahead. Now, what we meant was, “Is there a camping spot up ahead?” But he had a bigger answer in mind. “Man,’ he said earnestly, “you wouldn’t believe what’s up there! There’s trees, and mountains, and grass…”

That dude up on the mountain saw the world with a sense of wonder, with a delight I am usually too jaded to enjoy. In today’s hymn, Margaret Clarkson names the God of a creation ‘rich with surprise.’ As I meditate on the concept of a universe created teeming with delight and overflowing with mind-blowing creativity, I think of eclipses, lightning storms, giraffes…and grace. You wouldn’t believe what’s up there!

What a surprising God we serve!

AND...

They will beat their swords into plowshares
and their spears into pruning hooks. 
Nation will not take up sword against nation,
nor will they train for war anymore.
---Isaiah 2:4

There is a long and proud tradition in this world. If you are against something, and need to destroy it, burn it up! Off the top of my head I can think of burnings of subversive books (in real life, in Nazi history, and in Farenheit 451), rock and roll records (young readers, I'll explain records later), ugly Christmas sweaters (I kid you not), confiscated marijuana crops, Korans, piles of old tires (if you live out in the country in the past), bought-back illegal handguns, dead bodies during plague years, even 'witches' (alive, during dark days of our country's own history).
And when I read the prophetic message contained in Isaiah 2, I could picture the efficiency with which swords and spears, implements of war one and all, could have been gathered up into the world's largest and most justified bonfire. What better way to bring peace than to destroy forever the instruments of violence and hatred? And yet God's ways are so much higher than my ways, God's creativity drawing lovely circles around my crude connect-the-dots. Because destruction, even of pure evil, is never God's final word. God's final word is redemption, even of evil.
Another way top say this might just be AND. Like the Coke Zero ad campaign, it is not enough for violence to cease for God to call it a day. No, the impulses that give birth to violence must be transformed to yearn for the birth pangs of peace. The dreams of revenge must morph into dreams that include sufficient supply for all of God's children.
Those spears? Those swords? Don't destroy them. Transform them. Then use them to transform the world.
Peace the world. With AND.


so here we stand, whoever we are,
bathed in the light of a star...