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…I am posting this song, but I’ve always been a closet Neil Diamond fan (back off, you like him too) and when I saw him sing this song live, it resonated with me, though I am not sure why…
“I Am,” I Said
L.A.’s fine, the sun shines most the time
And the feeling is ‘lay back’
Palm trees grow, and rents are low
But you know I keep thinkin’ about
Making my way back
Well I’m New York City born and raised
But nowadays, I’m lost between two shores
L.A.’s fine, but it ain’t home
New York’s home, but it ain’t mine no more
“I am,” I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair
“I am,” I cried
“I am,” said I
And I am lost, and I can’t even say why
Leavin’ me lonely still
Did you ever read about a frog who dreamed of bein’ a king
And then became one
Well except for the names and a few other changes
If you talk about me, the story’s the same one
But I got an emptiness deep inside
And I’ve tried, but it won’t let me go
And I’m not a man who likes to swear
But I never cared for the sound of being alone
“I am,” I said
To no one there
And no one heard at all
Not even the chair
“I am,” I cried
“I am,” said I
And I am lost, and I can’t even say why
Leavin’ me lonely still
Instead of asking God to cultivate something, may I see, hear and be in-tune to what God is already cultivating around me. May I have the courage to trust and join God’s cultivation regardless how unknown, mysterious, distant or “in-the-dark” it may presently seem.
May I strive less to do for the sake of doing, and instead, pause more to listen in order to become aware of what he is doing.
God is cultivating all around me. Am I noticing? Do I care?
The following was written by a friend of mine, Chad. He graciously emailed me a copy of a short essay he wrote. I was floored by its message, and the garden-church imagery regarding racial reconciliation and church unity was nothing short of profound. It is worth the read:
If you drive thirty miles north on interstate 85 out of Durham you will come to a small, quaint town known as Oxford. “Small and quaint” is synonymous with the town’s distinction of not having a Super Wal-Mart but humbly displays the older, smaller version. Leaving Oxford on highway 15 heading north you will pass many farms, mostly tobacco, and cozy little townships who’s only boast is a gas station with the best short order cooks in the county that will make you a mean cheeseburger while you fill your tank. If you keep heading north until you would bet your life you are either in Virginia or at the very least mapping new frontier you will find a cozy, white, country church that would make Norman Rockwell sigh. The church is called Marrow’s Chapel United Methodist Church and I am her pastor.
If you were to visit Marrow’s Chapel on a Sunday morning there are two things that might immediately stand out to you. First, you might be surprised by the number of people who gather in the middle of nowhere to worship God. On any given Sunday there may be as few as 80 and as many as 120 packed into this little country church. Furthermore, you would see that a large number of them are young families with children, causing us to revamp our nursery and children’s areas to make enough room for everyone. The second thing that might stand out to you is that 100% of the families you see are white. This may not be so surprising given the area in which we live. Four miles down the road is the black church – same denomination, same white, cozy, country exterior – and every bit as segregated as ours.
Since I have begun serving here at Marrow’s Chapel I have slowly, subversively if you will, been trying to help the good people here cast a new vision for themselves as a church, one that more accurately captures the rich tapestry that is the Kingdom of God. In short, I envision a church where “all nations” come together to worship the one true God who is still in the business of reconciling and restoring his children. Through opening my eyes to the function of land in the Old Testament, [I have received] what I think are the necessary tools, or, more importantly, a biblical and practical model to work from that will help bring this vision to a reality. It will require some hard work and some sweat but by getting back to some long forgotten or ignored basics I think we will see healing not only in our relationships but in the land this rural church calls home.
To get back to the beginning I look to the biblical account of our origins where we first get a glimpse into our purpose on God’s good earth. Genesis 2:15 sees man’s God- given duty and essential task to be in the garden to “till and keep” the land. Both Norman Wirzba and Ellen Davis note how the verbs to “till” and “keep” are best rendered as “serving” and “preserving” and “observing.” This is significant if for no other reason than to remind us that the land is not ours to “till” for mere gain but we are to work it out of service to the land, not for ourselves. Noticing that it is not good for the man to be alone in his service to the land, God fashions another for him, a woman. There is much said today about how woman was formed from man and similarities between the two are often emphasized, and for good reasons. However, it should not be missed that while the fellow care-taker of the land is similar to Adam the new member of the garden is not the same as Adam. Why didn’t God just duplicate what God had already done and make another Adam? Would that not have provided some companionship as well as adequate help in the preserving of the land? It would if the God we serve is primarily utilitarian in nature. However, if we learn nothing else from this story it may be simply stated that in the garden we have been placed to serve, God likes variety.
Sitting in a restaurant with a group of church members just the other day I shared with them that in order for Marrow’s Chapel to become the church everyone hopes it to become (i.e. a growing, vibrant church and a full-time charge) it will need to be open to every and all persons within our community. One parishioner asked, innocently and honestly, where all the different races of people came from if all of us came from the same parents, Adam and Eve? Deciding that Chick-Fil-A was not the place to launch into a discussion on human origins and the mythic quality of Genesis, I offered to her the above truth that God is a lover of variety. When God made trees why didn’t he make just one kind? Why not fill the world with only daffodils? Why must there be so many types of fish? The answer proved helpful and even excited this small group to consider that the variety which God loves is sorely lacking in the pews of our church.
This love of variety is not limited to Genesis but found throughout scripture. One reading I found helpful in formulating this line of thought was William Brown’s The Ethos of the Cosmos. Brown draws some wonderful insights from Isaiah 41:17-20 pertaining to the taxonomy of community or the way in which God will revive and restore the land and people. God will do this by putting in the wilderness the “cedar, the acacia, the myrtle, and the olive” and setting in the desert the “cypress, the plane and the pine together” (Isa. 41:19). Brown observes that these 7 species of trees from different parts of the world with various climate needs brings forth a “forest of remarkable biodiversity. Yahweh intends to plant seven distinguishable varieties of trees, all coexisting in the transformed wasteland.” The diversity of trees, however, are but a prelude to what God desires to do amongst his people. The compiler of third Isaiah picks up on this vision in 56:1-8 and expresses Yahweh’s intended goal. The foreigner and eunuch will not be allowed to say, “I am just a dry tree” (Isa. 56:3) but they shall all be joined to the Lord and to the Lord’s peoples and the house of the Lord shall be called a “house of prayer for all peoples” (56:7) for it is the Lord who gathers not only the outcasts of Israel but “will gather others to them besides those already gathered” (56:8). It is this reconstitution, this diversity among the peoples, which will “make them joyful in my house of prayer” (56:7). Brown concludes, “The biodiversity of the garden reflects the ethnic diversity of the community.”
Initially I intended to write a sermon as part of this essay, one that would capture what I have learned and how I wish to convey it to my congregation. However, I find (and I doubt I am alone on this) that sermons without some robust biblical theology and practical relevance backing them are impotent. Thus, demonstrating the theology and the practicality from where the sermon will spring I believe is far more instructive. Having shown the biblical foundation for my sermon above, I will now briefly detail the practical dimension.
I was very inspired hearing the story of Anatoth Community Garden. What I saw as I watched this church begin to take seriously their service to the land and how they can teach people to be connected to creation in ways they had not considered before was inspiring. I saw people of all races coming together to sweat side by side, working for a common goal and being reminded that all of this is God’s, and therefore so are each of them. I began to imagine what such a garden in my own community might look like and how it might bring people together who otherwise do not inter-mingle and how it could begin to sow seeds of reconciliation and eventually the reconstitution of God’s people in the church. In other words, I began to wonder if a Garden might sprout a Church.
It was a Garden in Genesis that was the seed bed for God’s people, the beginning of what would become a church. It was Isaiah who linked together the diversity of the garden, particularly trees, and wished to reconstitute community in the same way. And not insignificant, it was in a garden that the resurrected Christ was first seen (John 19:41).
Since hearing the story of Anatoth Community Garden I have begun planning a similar endeavor for us at Marrow’s Chapel. I am convinced that in order for Marrow’s Chapel to become the vibrant, growing church it desires to be and in order for it to properly reflect the Kingdom of God through a diversity of people living in community it will have its genesis in a garden.
The sermon I wish to preach cannot yet be written because we have not yet begun the work of tilling and keeping the land. It is not until the good people of this community can sweat together side by side; seeing with their own eyes that the work of their hands produced such a variety of life in one field – it is then that a sermon exhorting God’s people to reconstitute itself based on the same diversity will find its mark. It is my prayer that out of a garden will spring a church, a house of prayer for all peoples.
Thanks for the blessing, Chad!
This is a shout out to my good buddy Dave who reminded me of this song today. My wife and I used to listen to it all the time but it has sat idle in the “non-played” cellar of my iPod. So I cranked it up again today on my way home from work and the words resonated with me, especially the line “But the places that used to fit me cannot hold the things I’ve learned.” What resonates with you?
Painting Pictures Of Egypt by Sara Groves
I don’t want to leave here
I don’t want to stay
It feels like pinching to me either way
The places I long for the most
Are the places where I’ve been
They are calling after me like a long lost friend
It’s not about losing faith
It’s not about trust
It’s all about comfortable
When you move so much
The place I was wasn’t perfect
But I had found a way to live
It wasn’t milk or honey
But then neither is this
CHORUS:
I’ve been painting pictures of Egypt
Leaving out what it lacked
The future seems so hard
And I want to go back
But the places that used to fit me
Cannot hold the things I”ve learned
And those roads closed off to me
While my back was turned
The past is so tangible
I know it by heart
Familiar things are never easy to discard
I was dying for some freedom
But now I hesitate to go
Caught between the promise
And the things I know
BRIDGE:
If it comes too quick
I may not recognize it
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
If it comes too quick
I may not appreciate it
Is that the reason behind all this time and sand?
I am often asked, by other Christians, “What church do you go to?” or “Where do you go to church?” This is, with regularity, followed by them saying, “Oh, I go to such-and-such church.” Another common question I get asked usually refers to the quality of the church I just went to, “How was church today?” which often is asking about the preaching, music, etc. Though these are well meaning questions, I think they point a bigger issue that plagues us today.
The bigger issue is one of “mistaken identity”. We see the church as a place we go versus a people who live in the way of Jesus. It is so prevalent that even people who do not go to church know “church” as a place, rather than a people who follow Jesus. But Paul knew better.Paul’s addresses many of his letters (Corinthians, Thessalonians, Ephesians, Revelation) to “the church in…” and names a city or providence. It is to a singular church, not plural churches (though there were many separate gatherings), that he writes to. Imagine Paul writing one letter to the all the various, individual churches in Sacramento and beginning his letter, “To the church in Sacramento”, and you get the picture. Paul used this language because he viewed God’s church as—not a place or a building—a people.
Now, I know we all agree to this in theory or theology, but seldom do we acknowledge it in our Sunday-to-Sunday language or practice. I cannot tell you the number of times that it has been insinuated or I have been directly told that “so-and-so church is better than so-and-so church”, or that “our church is in competition with so-and-so church”, or, “did you hear what happened to so-and-so church?” In Paul’s eyes, the church was in an interdependent relationship with one another as a people of God who followed and claimed the radical name of Jesus. Today, we independently operate separate church buildings and congregations, seldom uniting with or caring what happens to each other. In fact, sometimes we secretly (or not so secretly) applaud the sufferings, losses and mistakes of other congregations. This is because we really do not see them as “the church”––as brothers and sisters, as equals–– but as the other church, as the competition, or even as enemies if their beliefs differ from ours (those Baptists, Charismatics, Catholics).
It seems silly to imagine this self-destructive thinking in Paul’s day considering that the churches met in homes. The church, or the people of Jesus, met in small home gatherings located all through out the Roman Empire (though in Jerusalem they also went to the temple). Though separate, they viewed themselves as and acted like they were one body. I find great encouragement when large, diverse groups of Christians gather by the thousands in large auditoriums to worship and learn together. To me, it is a small slice of heaven. We all agree and act like we are ONE when we gather in such settings. But then something happens that saddens me. We get back to our “Churches” and resume business as usual: independent churches who could care less about each other—especially if the other church belongs to a different denomination. Jesus said that a house that is divided against itself cannot stand. Perhaps this is, in part, what we are seeing today: a divided house that is falling down.
May we reclaim our identity as THE CHURCH. May we stop nodding knowingly about this fact and start behaving how we claim to believe. May we not see ourselves as people who go to a church, but as a people who are the Church of Jesus wherever we go and whatever we do. May we be the church whether we meet in a multimillion-dollar building, or an ancient cathedral, or a living room, or a bar, or a coffee shop, or a park. May we stop competing against, abusing, slandering and destroying the other parts of Jesus’ body just because they are different then we are and because they believe differently then we do. May Jesus be our common head and may we stand in unity.
Who can say to a branch, “I don’t need you” or to a leaf, “Get lost”.
I hope a time will come when we can embrace our complete family tree and heritage. Where we can unite around Jesus and friendship, not on cognitive and doctrinal agreement (we’ve all seen where trying to has gotten us). Where we can see our messy differences as a beautiful tapestry, not as something to be fixed and cleaned up—or worst, burned. That each branch is part of a larger tree, not the tree itself. That we all hold truth and heresy. That we are all brothers and sisters, loved and forgiven by God.
For this, I hope. For this, I dream. For this, I long. For this, Jesus longed. For this, Jesus prayed:
“My prayer is not for them alone. I pray also for those who will believe in me through their message, that all of them may be one, Father, just as you are in me and I am in you. May they also be in us so that the world may believe that you have sent me. I have given them the glory that you gave me, that they may be one as we are one: I in them and you in me. May they be brought to complete unity to let the world know that you sent me and have loved them even as you have loved me.“
Perhaps it will be our unity that proclaims the gospel that God loves the world as he loves Jesus (wow…so he has the same love for all of us as he does for Jesus?). Perhaps it is not our “correct doctrine” that will draw others to God, but our unity. Perhaps it is when we are reconciled to each other that others will begin to be reconciled to God. Perhaps as our family tree is restored, others will begin to be restored.
But you know what that means. We need to humble ourselves to listen to, converse with, and love each other.
May it begin with me.
“Only when the last tree has died, and the last river been poisoned, and the last fish has been caught, will we realize that we cannot eat money.”
~Cree Saying
Have you ever been reading a book and got to a sentence—or thought—that stops you in your tracks? Where you try to continue reading, but the gravitational pull of the sentence keeps bring you back to its words? Then that moment comes when you resist fighting it, dog-ear the page, put the book down and let the words permeate your mind, replaying them over and over again. This was one of those sentences for me.
I was reading through the book, Dialogue-The Art of Thinking Together, by William Issacs, and was cruising along until page 169 crashed into me. The section was titled, “What Is My Music—and Who Will Play It?” It began (like all sections should, in my humble opinion) with a story. A pianist, Michael Jones, was tickling the ivory when an old man approached him and struck up a conversation. The old man asked about the music Michael just played and he answered, “That was an arrangement of Moon River”. “No, before that,” the old man asked. “That was some of my own music,” Michael replied. The old man then said, “You are wasting your time with ‘Moon River’.” He continued and asked, “Who will play your music if you don’t do it yourself?”
Stop.
Did you read his question?
That was the one whose gravity would not (and has not) release me. “Who will play your music if you don’t do it yourself?”
William Issacs then fleshes it out a bit more:
“People often say it is hard to know what their music is, no less find the courage to offer it. Sometimes we know what we would express but require the courage to bring it out. The resolve that wells up from within us first to find out what our music is, and then to give us the permission to give it, is the molten core energy of your voice.” Wow! Then he just keeps going . . .
“We all have a tendency for self-censorship, for withholding what we think for fear of upsetting others or disturbing the order of things. But finding our music involves listening in a deep way to what we may not have dared voice. [...] ask yourself, What do I most long to create in the world? And why do I long to create it? Setting aside all the counterforces that would tend to dismiss this question as impractical and irrelevant is an enormous part of this process. But holding Michael’s simple question in your heart can go a long way toward opening doors you would not expect to open. Finally, we must also ask ourselves what might be at risk if you do not bring it out—as well as if you do? What choices are you making now about how much of your voice you express?”
Wow.
This idea of finding out what your music is and having the courage to play it—’cause if you don’t, who will?—is crucial to what it means to follow God and the leading of his spirit. Why do I blog? Because it is my music. Why am I feeling led to help create a different expression of “church”? Because it is my music. Why do I love my wife and kids and God and neighbors? Because is it my music. Is it the only music? Nope. Is it the best music? Nope. Are there some who don’t like it? Yep. Are there others who are moved by it? Yep. Is it the correct music? Do you see how that is the wrong question when it comes to music? It’s my music (that God has inspired in my heart) and if I don’t play it, lean in to it, embrace it—who will?
Page 169 was worth the price of the book.
I really believe that if we are all busy courageously playing our God-given Kingdom-music, we will be too busy to sabotage, disrupt and hate-on others’ music.
And I have a hunch that the world will be better off from the musical tapestry we will create.
So the question begs to be asked, What Is Your Music—and Will You Play It?
Whahooo!!
Wait….that means I have to work.
Guess it’s true what they say about eating your cake and having it too.
I have to confess that I have a font addiction—I have over 2,000 fonts installed on my Macbook (that felt good to get off my hairless chest). But I have to admit, I’ve never seen this font:
Is that wrong? LOL
[thanks toobstar]
Hi, my name is Jeromy and I am a alcoblogaholic. I was sitting down late this afternoon to blog after painting the house all morning. It was hot. I had worked hard (hard to believe, I know). So I popped open a cold, crisp Newcastle Brown Ale. As I was blogging, something caught my attention and I turned for a split second. When I turned back, my beer had spilled onto my MacBook! AGHHHH!!! Panic set in. Glug, glug, 1oz, 2oz, STOP!!! Quick, grab a rag. No wait, Jen grab a hairdryer. SHUTDOWN. The Mac goes black———Time slows———I unplug it. Turn it upside down and brown ale pours out of its innards. Hairdryer arrives…full blast, cold setting…3 minutes…dry (I think). Push power. Nothing. AGHHHH!! Let it sit for three hours. Push power. Nothing. Double AGHHH!! Wait another hour. Push power. And proof of God (or at least the resurrection). The magical Mac power-up-sound-music-thingy never sounded so beautiful. IT’S ALIVE!!!
But the keyboard is rather sticky.
Moral of the story: Macs like Newcastle Brown Ale—at least mine does (though it swaggers a bit when typing).
Forgiveness is not an occasional art, it is a permanent attitude.
~ Martin Luther
Amen and thank God.
You have been telling people that this is the Eleventh Hour.
Now you must go back and tell the people that this is the Hour.
And there are things that need to be considered:
Where are you living?
What are you doing?
What are your relationships?
Are you in right relation?
Where is your water?
Know your garden.
It is time to speak your truth.
Create your community.
Be good to each other.
And do not look outside yourself for the leader.
This could be a good time!
There is a river flowing now very fast.
It is so great and swift that there are those who will be afraid.
They will try to hold on to the shore.
They will feel they are being torn apart, and they will suffer greatly.
Know the river has a destination.
The elders say we must let go of the shore, push off into the middle of the river, keep our eyes open, and our heads above the water.
See who is in there with you and celebrate!
At this time is history, we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves.
For the moment that we do, our spiritual health and journey comes to a halt.
The time of the lone wolf is over. Gather yourselves!
Banish the word struggle from your attitude and vocabulary.
All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration!
[Source: Elders of the Hopi Nation]
The imagery from this poem really spoke to me, as well as its questions. The similarity in what these Native American Elders were saying and what is emerging in our culture and church was striking. There are some that are leaving the dangers of clinging to the shore for the dangers of riding the river. Those who have let go of the shore indeed are finding others who are faith-traveling the river with them—they are not alone.
The two phrases (it was hard to choose, there were so many) that jumped off the page for me were these:
“All that we do now must be done in a sacred manner and in celebration!”
” See who is in there with you and celebrate!”
The line I personally struggled with was this one:
“At this time is history, we are to take nothing personally, least of all ourselves.
What from the poem resonated with you? What did you struggle with or made you uncomfortable reading?
For me, the living Jesus is far more untidy and undomesticated than the historical one because today he messes with MY stuff, not theirs. But he is also more beautiful because he also leads ME to love and restoration.
[Note: Forgive the false-separation of the living Jesus from the historical Jesus—they are the same person, with the former alive and active in OUR culture rather than 1st century Palestine.]
Missional living is, in part, what my sister and brother-in-law are doing. Out of the love they have for Jesus, they are in China picking up the newest member of their family, Cassie LinHua. They began the adoption process roughly 2 years ago. Check out their blog for more.
In short, missional living in listening to and joining what Jesus is doing (or desires to do) in the life of another. In this case, Cassie was born in the “wrong country” for her female gender. She was tossed aside into an orphanage and has lived there for two years today. The back of her head is flat and she has not learned how to walk from laying in a crib. After going to China, God softened Dave’s heart towards the baby girl’s in China (Becky, his wife, was already wanting to adopt from China) and from that stirring, they began the process. They sought a ’special-needs’ child and God brought them Cassie. Dave and Becky listened to God and joined him in what he was desiring to do in Cassie’s life.
So the question becomes, where is God leading you to join him in what he is doing? Are you listening? Are you able to listen? Am I?
___________________________________________________________________
Other thoughts on Missional Living:
Ben Wheatley – Are Things You Are Living For Worth It
Blake Huggins – What Does Missional Living Look Like
Alan Knox – Living in the love of God
Dave DeVries – The Missional Challenge
Bryan Riley – What Does Missional Living Look Like To Me
Jonathan Brink – Meeting God Where He is Already Working
For me, words and language are important. Which is why I don’t view anymore what I do on Sunday morning as “going to church”. To me, church is not a place, but a people. So instead of going to church (a place), we gather as the church (a people). Saturday night I’ll say to my son, “Tomorrow we are gathering as the church.” When we get ready to leave, I’ll say, “Time to gather as the church!” Or “Join the gathering.” Since trying to make this “lingo” change in our home it has helped me make this subtle, but important—for me—distinction.
But perhaps I’m just splitting hairs.
Perhaps they are hairs that need splitting.
Perhaps not.
But for me, “gathering as” instead of “going to” makes a big difference.
So some good friends of ours got married today (congratulations “Jesse” and Linda!). It was an tiny wedding but one that oozed with love and words of restoration. Lots of tears were shed by all. Afterwards, we went to the restaurant, BJ’s, where we downed pasta, caesar salad, and pizza. While there, some of us noticed the back of a man’s t-shirt that said this:
Wine is sure proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy.
I saw that quote by Benjamin Franklin and laughed outloud—I loved it! I actually walked over to the guy and commented on his t-shirt. So here’s the deal, I got home and looked up the quote online and found the full version of the quote, which taught me once again that something good is even better when read within its context. Here was the full quote by good ol’ Benjy:
We hear of the conversion of water into wine at the marriage in Cana as of a miracle. But this conversion is, through the goodness of God, made every day before our eyes. Behold the rain which descends from heaven upon our vineyards, and which incorporates itself with the grapes, to be changed into wine; a constant proof that God loves us, and loves to see us happy.
How cool is that? (of course, that would be an awful lot to print on the back of a t-shirt). So for what it’s worth, God loves you and if you don’t believe it, have a glass of wine.
By the way, today has been a great day enjoying friendship. Thanks friends, it was a special day!
Ever heard the term “slippery slope“? I am sure you have. I know I have been hearing it more and more over the past year. Here’s the irony when talking about slopes:
The slope we are on is never slippery—it’s all the other slopes that are the slippery ones.
But even at the bottom of such “slopes”, God is there to love and restore.
So I thought I’d throw it out there. This week American Idol did their second-annual Idol Gives Back show where their goal is to raise money to help global poverty / AIDS / etc. To date, they have raised some $80,000,000 with the UK making a $200,000,000 donation in mosquito netting. This year, they ended the night with all the singers singing the now hymn-status song, Shout to the Lord.
My questions are these:
- Is this ultimately a “good”, possibly Godly, thing (i.e. a secular enterprise helping those in need)?
- Was what they were doing worship (i.e. the song and doing unto the “least of these” being done to Jesus)
Help me dialogue. These questions intrigue me.
[Update]
Food for thought, here is an interesting contrast (Isaiah 58) between what Israel considered “worship” and what God considered worship:
…They’re busy, busy, busy at worship,
and love studying all about me.
To all appearances they’re a nation of right-living people—
law-abiding, God-honoring.
They ask me, ‘What’s the right thing to do?’
and love having me on their side.
But they also complain,
‘Why do we fast and you don’t look our way?
Why do we humble ourselves and you don’t even notice?’3-5″Well, here’s why:
“The bottom line on your ‘fast days’ is profit.
You drive your employees much too hard.
You fast, but at the same time you bicker and fight.
You fast, but you swing a mean fist.
The kind of fasting you do
won’t get your prayers off the ground.
Do you think this is the kind of fast day I’m after:
a day to show off humility?
To put on a pious long face
and parade around solemnly in black?
Do you call that fasting,
a fast day that I, God, would like?6-9″This is the kind of fast day I’m after:
to break the chains of injustice,
get rid of exploitation in the workplace,
free the oppressed,
cancel debts.
What I’m interested in seeing you do is:
sharing your food with the hungry,
inviting the homeless poor into your homes,
putting clothes on the shivering ill-clad,
being available to your own families.
Spring time is here. That means one thing—my top comes off. See, as a Jeep owner, the months of September through March carry with them a shadowy depression because the weather forces the sane person to keep their Jeep top on. But then Spring arrives. The top comes off and the whole world seems brighter and cheerier. Fresh air, sunlight, stretching skies and a sense of open-air freedom attack the soul. Oh, if only all year could be Spring.
It also means that my kids love riding in Daddy’s Jeep. My 7-year old son never uses the door, but instead climbs onto the back wheel and up and over the roll cage to get into the front seat. And my 3-year old daughter says every day, “Ride Daddy’s Jeep?” She didn’t always like to however. At first the wind and sun really bothered her (she was used to a domesticated van). But after the first few trips around town, she began to anticipate and love the wind and sun. Now she loves it. She’ll say the magic words, “Ride Daddy’s Jeep?”, and we’ll load up into the Jeep—strapping her into her car seat—heading off on our four-mile trek somewhere at 30 miles an hour. She smiles and laughs and says, “Windy!” and “Bumpy!” To her, a ride in Daddy’s Jeep means an adventure with dad. She has no idea where I am taking her, but the ride with dad in his Jeep is the reward. And she loves it!
My ride with my Daddy has been very similar. At first, the newly experienced wind and the sun and the bumpy ride were bothersome. I was used to a domesticated journey with him; quiet, predictable, climate controlled. But when he asked me to hop into his “Jeep” and go for a ride, I was apprehensive. Where are we going? What will it be like when I get there? But there’s no top!? And he said, “I know, that is part of the experience.” So he picked me up, set me in my seat and strapped me in. The wind, the noise, the sun, the bumpiness were all there, as expected. But as we rode, those very things became the joy of the journey. I find myself feeling freer. I can’t seem to get rid of my giddy smile. The sense of open-air adventure with Dad is exhilarating. I have no clear idea where we are going, but that seems to matter less and less. Just the joy of being on a faith-adventure with Daddy in his Jeep, seeing him look back reacting to my joy, is becoming—more and more—enough for me.
And when he invites some of my friends to join the ride, the journey becomes even more enjoyable. It is indeed a ride of a lifetime. Thanks for letting us ride in your Jeep, Dad! I love it!
What unspeakable comfort and strength is ours to know that in the midst of all our mischief, amid our scheming and bad speculations, regardless of our shaping, misshaping or reshaping of life, with all of our activities and failures, God is among us.
God is not a graven image of our own longings and shortcomings. Rather God, through Christ, is among us as friend, advocate, savior, and above all as our living Lord, to correct, to forgive, to comfort, to love, and to heal.
John A. Stroman
The Thunder from the Mountain
The Conversations...