Monday's Choice

The big day has come and gone.  Baby chicks, Easter eggs, chocolate, and the Easter festivities have once again passed.  It's on to graduations, vacations and summer days.  The 40 days of Lent are over and Easter is over, isn't it?  Are you different this Monday after Easter Sunday?

Did the Easter event change your heart and mind?  At the core of Easter is hope; therefore my life can experience a change.
This next thought may shock some of you but I've often speculated that the formal church is too focused on the cross of Christ instead of the empty tomb.  That's a disturbing sentence, I know, but hear me out!  In our Christian culture, we are taught early in life about Jesus and his work on the cross.  His beautiful and complete grace that covers our sin and selfishness and gives those who believe in Him eternal life.  That is a Truth; for without His death we would be without hope, without life.  However...

...is that where many of us stop?  Do we stop our lives at Jesus' death on the cross?  Oh, we celebrate Easter Sunday in our finery and with our families but can we say we're living Easter on Monday?

Could it be that we are living only half of the Good News?  We call Friday of Holy week...Good Friday as it was good for us that Jesus gave His life so that we may live today and forever.  But I contend that we are stuck on Good Friday.  We are stuck in the pain and anguish of our own lives.  We know what happened on Easter Sunday in Jesus' life but for some reason we have chosen to remain in a 'Friday' lifestyle.  WHAT?

As Christ followers, we are invited to have our own Good Friday where our problems and our pain are put to death.  And, then experience an Easter Sunday in which we receive new life!  But we tend to stay in Friday and our pain from this world consumes our entire attention span.  And life does hurt.  It's hurts so badly to be rejected.  It hurts so badly to lose people to death, particularly death that is violent and random.  It hurts to see sickness and addiction in those we love.  It hurts to have no one to love or to be loved by no one.  It hurts to be lonely and isolated.  We have forgotten what Sunday offers us and our pain!

...they found the stone rolled away from the tomb, but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead?  He is not here; he has risen! Luke 24:2-6

He is not here!  He has risen.  That is the message the Bible teaches and that is the life we are offered...a way of real life and Joy in our Monday world.  Jesus' message was certainly one of redemption and salvation and life eternal.  AND, it was also a message of Joy, of overcoming, of living life to the fullest in the midst of earthly pain.  We say we love Him and believe in this message but are we living it?  Are we looking for the dead among the living?  Do I keep looking at my dead pain instead of looking at my alive Joy?  Easter is the day to celebrate that He has overcome our pain and loss.  And, Easter is also the day to wake up and live life to the fullest. Yes, there is pain in our world but He has overcome this pain.

This is the Monday choice.  No one can do this for me.  I can stay tied up in my Good Friday pain, hurt, disappointments and insecurity.  Or I can choose a new way....a way of living life to the fullest.  Choosing an Easter Monday does not mean that I forget my pain; it simply means I choose Jesus over my pain.  I choose to let Him use that pain so that I may help others.  I choose to let Him use that pain to grow me into who He dreamed.

Hallelujah, He is not among the dead.  He is alive!  Are we brave enough to let go of our 'identity of pain' and choose the Joy He offers.  He HAS overcome the world.

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” John 16:33

Very human...very human, indeed

Holy Saturday--April 15, 2017

Over these weeks of Lent, Kathy and I have invited you to journey with us as we have considered some of the well-known prayers found in Scripture.  With you, we have considered David’s prayer for a clean heart and renewal of a right spirit…and Jesus’ own instruction to the Disciples regarding “how” to pray.  In these culminating days of Holy Week, we will consider Jesus’ personal prayer at his greatest time of trial.

--Scott

There are many perspectives from which one can interpret scripture.  Obviously, a literal interpretation—taking the words, events, and descriptions exactly as they appear on the Biblical page—is one approach, and one that many use.  The risk, in my experience, comes in applying our 21^st century meanings to a language in which these writings were not originally penned or spoken.  Without considerable study and a deep knowledge of the meanings of Greek, Hebrew, and various Middle Eastern languages and dialects in the vernacular of origin for these texts, all “literal” interpretations do become largely “subjective.”

One can also interpret scripture through a lens of symbolism and application (note that I said “also,” not “instead,” as any individual can employ varied approaches to interpreting scriptural text).  What are the greater, deeper meanings of the words, events and descriptions?  How do those deeper meanings relate to, or transform, my experience? 

The entire narrative of the Passion of Christ—indeed the whole week leading up to the Crucifixion—is so laden with drama, politics, grandeur, and tragedy—that a literal approach in and of itself can be, well,  overwhelming.  A cast of thousands, heroes and villains, plots and subplots, graphic violence, earthquakes, dark clouds, and supernatural phenomena abound.  As the central figure and protagonist, Jesus the Christ’s manifestation as the Son of the Almighty God can overshadow the moment which, to me, is the most powerful example of Jesus the Human Being, the one just like us…

A few years ago, a friend shared a sentiment I’ve now heard many times since: “Every person is fighting his or her own great battle…so be kind to each person you meet.”  Indeed, suffering is one of the common experiences we all share as humans. Existential threats, worries about things only imagined, poverty, physical pain and illness, loss—all of these and more are inescapable for anyone living and breathing on this great planet.  Friedrich Nietzsche wrote, “To live is to suffer, to survive is to find some meaning in the suffering."

Sometimes I think we forget (or at least minimize) the very human nature of Jesus by focusing solely on His divinity.  Perhaps this is thanks to the portrayals of Him in films and stories over the years, combined with the many missing details of his life.  He often seems to be "above" the day-to-day experiences that the “regular” folks have.

But was Lazarus’ death the only time that Jesus wept?  You might think so from the limited and literal interpretation of what’s on the Biblical page.  Did he ever have a cross word with Mary or Joseph, or a moment of adolescent rebellion?  Did Jesus ever have the flu?  Did he have a pet he loved and lost, and the broken heart that followed?  Did he ever fall in love?

Just the thought of answering some of these questions is challenging for many, if for no other reason than the notion of Jesus being both “human” and “divine” is challenging for our limited understanding.  We may even think it’s “blasphemous” to ask such questions, even silently.  Easier to fixate only on the mystical, "God-Man" nature of Jesus as The Christ than to consider all of it together.

Yet, there at the very depth of the Passion narrative is Jesus at his most human, just like us, I dare say.  Because who among us who has ever suffered greatly, been paralyzingly afraid, felt desperately alone, did not in some way cry out, “My God!  My God!  Why have you abandoned me?”

This is the cry of the weeping father over the casket of his own child…of the young mother who has learned of a devastating diagnosis…of the teenager who has learned that an unexpected baby is on the way…of the sole provider suddenly laid off a job…of a community in ruins after an earthquake…of a country in ruins after years of no rain, or the devastating rain of warfare. 

This is the cry of a suffering world.

Hanging on the cross, facing an inevitable end, he cried out, “Eli! Eli!  Lema sabachtani? (Matthew 27:46)” This is not a new prayer, one we see attributed only to Jesus in scripture.  No, this is a familiar prayer of David predating the time of Jesus by centuries, found in Psalm 22.  This cry of desperation echoes from a long past across the ages, through Jesus, to us today.

Jesus' cry is the cry of humanity.

Are we bold enough to claim more than the joy of the resurrection… that, in suffering, Jesus’ story is our story?  We can celebrate the Resurrection with thanksgiving; at the same time, we can also be thankful that the One who was resurrected was human enough to cry out to God in desperation and anguish…just like us.

“This High Priest of ours understands our weaknesses, for he faced all of the same testings we do, yet he did not sin (Hebrews 4:15).”

One of the greater, deeper meanings found in the Passion narrative is that life is a continuous cycle of suffering, death, and resurrection.  We see this pattern played out in all of nature, not just in our human experience. 

None of us can escape the suffering.  Even the Son of God wasn’t able to do so.  And we know, as sure as day follows night, joy will eventually return in the morning………

Today, I am Hungry - 6th Sunday in Lent

Kale, Left-over fried chicken, coconut and Greek olives...you have 30 minutes to turn this into a wonderful entree for our judges.  Time starts NOW.  This is the Chopped kitchen which airs on the Food Network.  I'm obsessed with this show.  I love to cook and I look to eat and I love watching the chefs try and make something delicious out of ridiculous ingredients.

There are dozens of cooking shows on TV that teach us about new techniques and new foods as though we've become bored with our everyday food.  We don't just want daily food anymore, we want new food, something different, less calories/fat/sugar, etc.  Yes, more please.  Food is not just a daily necessity for us; it has become a hobby.  It's a planned event and for some it's a beautiful memory of home, family and a time of connection.  But today, I don't want to go down memory lane (I could...easily...because no one cooked like my mama and I miss her and her kitchen).  

But today, my thoughts lead me down a less traveled path. 

Give us this day our daily bread (Matthew 6:11)....

And this further Word,

Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? (Matthew 6:25-26)

I find it interesting that these two verses are found in the same chapter of the Bible.  They are found in Jesus' teaching after being asked the question, 'teach us to pray'.  He answers this one question with a long teaching session that covers many life issues.  But what we are focused on today is unique to me. I'm focused on these three phrases...Give us this day our daily bread...is not life more than food...look at the birds they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and YET your heavenly Father feeds them.

Have we forgotten this simple message?  Are we so obsessed with new, different and more? Do we really believe He can and will care for us as he does the birds?  Honestly, I'm a little more comfortable knowing I have money in the bank for food tomorrow and a savings account just in case my world turns upside down.  And as Scott mentioned, perhaps we've begun to believe that we are the ones providing ourselves with our food.  It's our hard work, our accomplishments and our paychecks that provide today and tomorrow's food for our tables.  

  

So who am I relying on?  It feels like the answer is 'me'.  And oh, how I hate that thought.  Please Lord, give us what we need not what we want.  Isn't that what 'daily bread' means?  In our fear and insecurity, do we strive for more and more....just in case tomorrow is a disaster?  I know me.  I know I am not enough and never will be enough.  However, my soul knows the truth...there is only one Gardener who provides and through the words 'daily bread' he's teaching us to trust only in Him for today's food, shelter and life.

I contend that as much food as we have in the world, many of us are still hungry and I don't mean those who are in the world and truly starving.  I mean those of us comfortable in our homes with full refrigerators and full everything else.

Proverbs offered an interesting word to me recently.  It reads like this:

“Two things I ask of you, Lord;

    do not refuse me before I die:

Keep falsehood and lies far from me;

    give me neither poverty nor riches,

    but give me only my daily bread.

Otherwise, I may have too much and disown you

    and say, ‘Who is the Lord?’" Proverbs 30:7-9a

So, could 'Give us this day our daily bread', truly mean:  Lord, give me only what I need in this day otherwise, I may have too much and disown you...Otherwise, I may have too much and say 'Who is the Lord'?

In our North American wealth, has this happened to us?  Has this happened in you?  And yes, has this happened in me?  When I pray, give us this day our daily bread, I pray it is only enough to sustain me for fear that my selfishness will lead me to forget who HE is....my only provider, my only life source, my one and only, Bread of Life.

one day

one bird

one basket

one fish

one loaf

one prayer

one Lord

one pilgrim

one journey

more than enough

more than I can imagine

more than I expected

more than I can fathom

more than I hoped

more than others

more than most

more in one day

I need

I admit

I submit

I acknowledge

I thirst

I hunger 

Just today: I come, I bow, I ask, I eat, I'm filled

Tomorrow will care for itself

One bird, one life, one day

--Kathy

April 9, 2017

"Give us each day our daily bread"--5th Sunday in Lent

Sometime in your life, hope that you might see one starved man, the look on his face when the bread finally arrives.  Hope that you might have baked it or bought it or even kneaded it yourself.  For that look on his face, for your meeting his eyes across a piece of bread, you might be willing to lose a lot, or suffer a lot, or die a little even.

--Father Daniel Berrigan

I’ve never really been hungry, not in the life-or-death, desperate sense.  My hard-working parents always put my brothers and me first, always made sure that we had everything we needed, and many of the things we just wanted, even if it meant great sacrifice on their part.

As an adult, I have worked hard and reaped the benefits; nevertheless, I know that even without hard work, I’d probably be doing better than most thanks to my comfortable perch of privilege as a white man in the most prosperous land on earth.

So when I consider Jesus’ instruction on prayer to include, “Give us each day our daily bread (Luke 11:3),” I’d be less than honest if I didn’t admit that I’ve pretty much taken it for granted that the food would be coming, prayer or not. 

When my double-door refrigerator is nearly empty and the cupboard is growing bare, I get up on my two healthy legs, drive my clean and well-appointed car to the nearby supermarket, fill my eco-friendly bags with an array of needs and wants, slide my chip-enabled card in the reader, and make my way home to wash my vegetables clean with water that pours effortlessly right out of the tap.

The convenience of this oft-repeated experience has lulled me into a comfortable and complacent resting place where it becomes easy to think God has nothing at all to do with it.  So why insist that this be a daily prayer?

All that any of us has, in fact, rests uneasily in a fragile web of good fortune, economics, politics, and power.  A look back at the hours immediately after Hurricane Katrina (or any number of natural disasters) plainly shows what a difference a day makes, and that each of us living in comfort is but a few choices or a set of unforeseen circumstances away from real hunger, from desperate need.

Lifted up as prayer, “Give us each day our daily bread” should be more than “magic words” routinely spoken as a safeguard from poverty.  If we rest relatively assured that the bread (and most everything else) we need will come our way, what do we do with this prayer?

We know, of course, that for the majority of the millions of people living around the world, the tender mercies of food, clean water, shelter, safety, and medical care cannot be taken for granted.  And when they do come, they are not manna from heaven laid fresh daily upon the land by a benevolent God (Exodus 16: 1-36).

Indeed, God’s tender mercies are conveyed through the acts of charity, hospitality, and humanity of those who have “more than enough.”

As I’ve reflected on this one small phrase—“Give us each day our daily bread”—I’m drawn to other words of Jesus in the Gospel of Matthew:

Then the righteous will answer him, “Lord when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink?  When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you?  When did we see you sick or in prison and go visit you?”

The King will reply, “I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me.” (Matthew 25: 44-45)

As I write this, I think of the children of Aleppo, the mothers of the Sudan, the fathers and sons striving close to home and around the world…nameless faces all merging into a sad uniformity.  We grow weary of their stories, and their familiarity has bred contempt. 

Yet when they pray, “Give us each day our daily bread,” or whatever similar supplication may arise from their traditions, the answer to their prayers is…us.

Now, Kathy and I write these blog entries each week entirely as reflections of our own personal experience, our faith struggles, and far more questions than answers.  I feel confident she would join me in expressing the hope that what we share is never interpreted as “preachy” or “pious,” but rather our vulnerability and questions, humbly exposed.

I quoted Father Daniel Berrigan to start.  He was considered a rebel, a revolutionary, a militant subversive by “the establishment” in the 1960s.  In His time, so was Jesus.  And he paid for it with his life, as we know. 

Berrigan’s words about the recognition of needs unmet, and our obligation to be the agents of answered prayers, seem to reflect the same sentiment of Jesus regarding “the least of these,” do they not?  And if Jesus’ words serve only to “comfort the afflicted,” but never to “afflict the comfortable,” then how are we to be transformed?  What would be the point of all this Christianity, anyway?

These are the kinds of questions I struggle with as I think of “living” the Gospel, and falling so woefully short.

Set your politics aside for a moment, whatever they may be, and consider the experience Tim Kaine recently relayed from his time as a missionary in Honduras.  During the campaign for the vice-presidency, he was profiled in a revealing feature article in a national newspaper. 

He spoke of his lifelong Catholic faith and how it was deepened during those years in Central America.  His first-hand experiences with deep poverty led him to change his mealtime prayer from the traditional Catholic grace, “Bless us, O Lord, and these Thy gifts which we are about to receive from Thy bounty, through Christ, our Lord,” to a new petition:

“Lord, give bread to those who are hungry, and a hunger for justice to those who have bread.”

Amen, and amen!

--Scott

April 2, 2017

Our Father...4th Sunday in Lent

There have been times in my life when words failed me.  The day my children were born - I simply had no words.  The day we took our son to rehab - I simply had no words.  The morning my mother died (who celebrates her birthday in heaven tomorrow!) - I simply had no words.  The day my son celebrated five years in recovery - I simply had no words.  Last weekend, as my daughter wed the man of her dreams - I simply had no words.  Please don't misunderstand me as I had plenty of thoughts swirling around inside me in all these instances.  I had memories, I had unabounding love, I had despair, I had deep, deep pain, I had joy, I had hope.  But I had no words.  They were simply stuck somewhere inside me.

What I've described above is one very, simple life of a human with everyday joy, stress and strain. But the men and women living and working around Jesus, were they any different from me and you?  Yes, I believe they were unique in that they completely gave up their lives and work to literally follow Jesus everywhere he traveled.  And certainly their spirituality is not in question.  But neither is their 'human-ness'.  They struggled like us.  I just know in my heart that their words got stuck inside of their heads!  Then came...Jesus.  He was so different.  He was so alive.  He was so loving and forgiving and accepting.  And he prayed...like... everywhere!  Not just in the church or at mealtime or at bedtime but always, it seems.

Matthew Henry, states this in his commentary, "Christ pray[ed] often...: when he was baptized, he was praying; he withdrew into the wilderness, and prayed; he went out into a mountain to pray, and continued all night in prayer; he was alone praying."  His disciples saw Him praying.  And I believe we can assume that the method and frequency of Jesus' prayer life was quite different than that of his followers.  Something or everything struck them as different for they asked him..."Lord, teach us to pray". Luke 11:1

I, too say these words today...Lord, teach me to pray.  There are times that I don't know how to express the thoughts, feelings, concerns, and worry that fill my days.  

And what was Jesus' answer?  Look closely at the reading from Matthew, just before the Lord's Prayer, as we call it, Jesus gives us beautiful instruction.  He says, 'But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen...And don't babble by using a lot of words....for your Father knows what you need before you ask him. This, then is how you should pray:  Our Father in heaven, hallowed by your name, your kingdom come, your will be done on earth as it is in heaven. (Matt. 6:6-9)

I'll be honest with some of my thoughts.  Perhaps I want to pray the right way and that blocks my real communication with God.  Perhaps those Sunday morning times of prayer in the church service leave me hollow.  Perhaps prayer is not about using any words.  Perhaps prayer is first, getting alone with God...just alone with no time schedule and no agenda.  In our effort to pray the right way we've missed the first step in Jesus' instruction....go into your room, close the door...and pray.  

Occasionally, I attend a noon communion service...where I am a visitor and know almost no one attending.  Oftentimes, the very best part of this small service is arriving early and sitting in the silence of the beautiful chapel.  No words do I speak, no action do I take.  I am simply there...present, needing connection, waiting, breathing...and most every time tears come for He has met me.  It's the alone time, the silence, the 'going away' where I find Him.

What happens when you go into your private place to think, or contemplate or cry or scream?  What happens when your words are stuck inside of you?  As we go into our rooms of prayer today, take time to be quiet.  That's right...just be...just sit.  Let your spirit free by using no words for just a few minutes.  Then pray the prayer Jesus taught us... slowly...in phrases...thinking about what the words mean to you...

Our Father... 

He is your Father, He is my Father, He is the Father of the world and He hears and He loves and He answers.  He is Father to those I don't like too much and He is Father to those who don't even know it.  My Father, I come to you today...

In Heaven... 

I am here in my little world.  And You are in your Eternal world.  You are Infinite and I am finite.  I praise you for the hope of eternal life and that You live and reign in heaven today and you live in me today.

Your Kingdom come... 

I hope in your Glory and in your Power and in the world to come.  I trust in You and that you will come in Your time. 

Your will be done on earth as it is in heaven... 

It is Your will that I desire for my will is ignorant, self-serving and naive.  Your will is perfect for the world and for me.  I choose Your will today.

Time with no words, words for every part of life, time with no words...that's my prayer outline.  Will you join me today on this part of the Lent journey?  Will you take time and find your closet and stop the babble and just BE with OUR FATHER?

Presence in the Present--3rd Sunday in Lent

In my earliest years, I knew only one way to pray.  At night, my Dad would tuck me into bed and hold my hand as we said together…

Now I lay me down to sleep

I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to keep

If I should die before I wake

I pray Thee, Lord, my soul to take

I loved that time with my Dad each night.  To be honest, though, I’m not sure I experienced the prayer aspect as spiritual so much as a magic spell to ensure I’d make it alive through sleep until breakfast in the morning…or at least evade the horrors of hell if I didn’t!

With time, the phrases themselves began to conflagrate into one, 30-syllable power word hastily recited in one breath, spoken effortlessly, a Godly “abracadabra” to surround me with peace and protection as I slept.

I understood that praying was “talking to God.”  This, however, was the only way I knew how to do it.

Jesus’ disciples seemed at a loss themselves when it came to the “how to” of prayer.  One day, after watching Jesus pray, his followers asked him for a “how to” lesson in prayer.  “Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples,” they asked (Lk 11:1).

Jesus’ response provides the basis for what we now call “The Lord’s Prayer” or the “Our Father,” though the scriptural version is more concise than what is customarily used in worship (for the longer version, see Mt. 6:9-13).

For now, let’s just consider the very first part of Jesus’ instruction, which says a great deal about presence and the present. 

“When you pray, say:  Father, hallowed be your name. Your kingdom come. (Lk 11: 2).

Hallowed is a word we don’t use regularly.  Different dictionaries define this word as “set apart as holy.”  This “how to” starts with establishing our sense of place and presence.  We are not in a casual conversation or distracted chatter.  This is intimate, powerful, distinct from the other conversations we have in the world.

We are present in a holy dialogue with One set apart as holy.  Time to be completely, utterly in the moment and nowhere else.  Time to practice presence.

And then, “Your kingdom come.”  Taken as is, this could be seen as a wish or a hope for something in the future, something that is not of the “now,” something that will be accomplished at a later date.

I only speak for myself, but am guessing others may have lived this way, too.  Living as though the “coming of the kingdom” prayed for collectively by millions in worship each week is some type of distant spiritual payoff for doing the right thing and being in the right group now.  “If we live by the rules, if we go through the right motions, if we worship in the right way, then someway…someday…we will experience this kingdom of God.”

But Jesus himself says otherwise. 

To the Pharisees, Jesus is later quoted in the Gospel of Luke saying, "The kingdom of God will not come with observable signs.  Nor will people say, 'Look, here it is,' or 'There it is.' For you see, the kingdom of God is in your midst."  (Lk: 17—21).

This is expressed differently depending on the translation.  The kingdom of God is…

…in your midst

…among you

…within you!

It’s now, in the present.  It’s here.  And it’s in me--in each of us!  Jesus says so.

So why would I need to pray, “Your kingdom come” if the kingdom is already within me and in the midst of all I experience?  Why can’t I see what is right before, around me, within me?

Maybe it is that the Kingdom of God is always present in my midst…but I am not always present for the Kingdom of God.  The busy-ness, the striving, the ego, the clamor, the insatiable need for approval, and the list goes on: altogether they create a noisy fog that blocks what is in front of me, around me, inside of me all the time.

Many engage in a tradition of sacrifice, of “giving something up for Lent.”  Today, let us give up each thing that is keeping us from seeing the Kingdom of God in the present, each thing that keeps us from being present to Him.

A Process - 2nd Sunday in Lent

It was summer and our son, Nick who was 9, had just returned from a two-week camp in

Texas.  It was his dad's job to clean out the trunk that held all the clothes, gear, uneaten food, ants and nastiness only a little boy can bring home from a camp experience!  The process was moving along fairly well as Ray dug through the trunk when he came to a layer of clothes that seemed to have never been worn.  They lay there in perfect foldedness (a new Hayes word).  As he removed them, he came to other basic items one of which was the soap dish. (Now, these were the days before the creation of body wash.... one simply used bar soap).  Ray took out the soap dish and opened it.... there lay a perfectly, NEVER used beautiful bar of soap emblazoned with the word, D-O-V-E!  This precious boy of ours had been away for two weeks yet his one bar of soap had never been touched! When questioned, Nick told Ray that he had been swimming every day!

Create in me a clean heart, O God, And renew a steadfast spirit within me Psalm 51:10

Scott led us to this verse last week and I've been pondering it ever since.  To 'create' takes time and takes a subject willing to be molded, changed, remolded, tweaked by the creator.

My son's intention was for a clean body but he took a shortcut.  When I read this prayer from David as he poured out his heart to God, it resonates with me.  It speaks to my soul and I too want a clean heart to be created inside me....

But like my son, I'm afraid I often make a different choice.

Was Nick not aware that he needed soap?

Was he too busy?

Was bathing just a low priority?

Was he anticipating that the process would be too slow?

Can we draw parallels from this childhood story? Like my son, perhaps I need a new definition of clean!  For I've tried and tried to become clean in my spirit.  I've said the words, I've prayed the prayers, I've earnestly desired this cleansing yet I still feel stuck in the words.  So, I read further in the Psalm and noticed that David continues his writing as if he senses that this clean heart deal is a process.

Verse 12, reads Grant me a willing spirit to sustain me... 
and

Verse 17, the sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart...

(just a heart with the correct priority, i.e. God on the throne on my life instead of the bossy, needy me that usually rules my life).

Could these two verses be the HOW of letting God create in me and in you a clean heart?  

By letting Him do the cleaning in His own time and in His perfect manner...

By being willing to give my own needs and selfishness to Him every day...

Is this second week of Lent such a time in my life?  We're busy people.  We go and we go and yet we all are still seeking something more.

This creating of a clean heart is a process inside each of us.  Am I ready to let Him do His work inside me?  Am I willing?

Or do I think I just don't need the cleansing?

Am I too busy?

Is such spiritual work a low priority in my life?

Is it taking too long?

Create and keep creating a clean heart in me, Oh God.

March 5, 2017--First Sunday in Lent

Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me (Psalm 51:10)

Tuesday, wonderful Tuesday!

Tuesday is perhaps my favorite day of the week, for Tuesday is the day the cleaning lady comes!  For going on fifteen years now, she has dutifully arrived at midday each Tuesday for her two hours of miracle-working.  I take leave before she comes so I don’t see her in action—it’s all somewhat of a mystery to me how she does it. 

But when I return—joy of joys!  Every surface is wiped clean! All dust has been banished! Whatever indignities may have taken hold in the bathroom (to which I have skillfully averted my eyes all week)—all have disappeared!  The sweet scent of lavender disinfectant and lemony furniture polish wash over me in a fragrant wave when I walk through the front door, and for a moment…all is well in the world, peaceful alignment has returned to the universe, and I can take on whatever may come at me for the rest of the week!

There is something wonderful about a squeaky-clean house, a spring rain, a hot shower after a day at the beach.   A new beginning, a fresh start, a clean slate!  A second chance, or a third…perhaps too many to count.

Psalm 51 is King David’s ode to a “personal housecleaning.”  David is one of my favorite characters in the Bible.  Shepherd and warrior.  King of Men and Child of God.  Humble in one instance, egomaniacal in the next.  Musician.  Murderer.  Best friend.  Lover of another man’s wife.  He’s so righteous, so scandalous…so human!

In the New International Version of the Bible, the preface to this Psalm reads, “For the director of music.  A Psalm of David.  When the prophet Nathan came to him after David had committed adultery with Bathsheba.”

Those familiar with the story recall that David, accustomed to getting pretty much what he wanted, had an affair with the beautiful Bathsheba, the wife of Uriah the Hittite.  He had admired her from afar, so he slept with her and then found himself facing the music he had made:  Bathsheba was pregnant.  What to do, particularly about the unknowing husband?  The king sent him off to fight in a no-win battle from which he was destined never to return.

The prophet, Nathan, later confronts David with his own unscrupulous behavior in a masterful twist of storytelling.  The oh-so-human king is laid low by the revelation of his dreadful deeds—both the affair and the plot to get Uriah out of the picture.  “You are the man!” declares the prophet.  There will be more consequences, Nathan tells him, but also redemption, a second chance: “The Lord has taken away your sin.  You are not going to die.” (2 Samuel, 12:14).

Psalm 51 is David’s response to his very human situation.  In the midst of the prayer come some very familiar words:  “Create in me a clean heart, O God, and renew a right spirit within me.” (Psalm 51:10). 

First, David is saying, “Wipe every surface of my soul clean.  Remove all the dust and grime.  Banish every indignity.”  But he doesn’t stop there.  Some translations read, “and renew a steadfast spirit within me.”  The synonyms for “steadfast” include loyal, committed, and faithful.

David’s fall from grace was the result of tripping over his outsized ego.  Oh, how many times we have all stumbled over the same obstacle--I know I have.  “I can do it! I am in control!  I have all the power!  The world is my oyster!” 

Only later do we find that, left solely to our own devices, we fall short, we fall down, we fall spectacularly.  We are laid low, indeed.

David’s prayer is not only to be cleaned, but to stay clean.

The prayer itself is a “making ready.”  I confess here to a bit of neurotic behavior—each Tuesday morning, before the cleaning lady shows up at my house, I scurry around, straightening up the place before she gets here!  I put some things away, pick up here and there, clean up before she…well, cleans up!  Truth be told, I’ve learned that many other folks who indulge in the little luxury of having someone come in to tidy up once a week do exactly the same thing!

So, this verse emerges from an intention of being ready, willing, and open to being “cleaned up.”  David begins with attitude of willingness and surrender…and concludes with an intention to keep things in order, cleaned up, fresh and new.

Of course, as we know, there were more highs and lows in David’s life.  And despite our best intentions we, too, fall again and again.  On Wednesday and Thursday, my house still looks mighty shiny…but as the week wears on, the dust settles, the mirrors are smudged, the floors need to be swept and mopped, and all the countertops are streaked and dirty. 

By the following Tuesday, it’s time for another visit from the “miracle worker.”  How grateful I am that she keeps coming back!  Grateful, indeed!

Lent 2017: "Lord, Teach us to Pray"

One day, Jesus was praying in a certain place.  When he finished, one of his disciples said, "Lord, teach us to pray, just as John taught his disciples." (Luke 11:1, NIV)

Today is Ash Wednesday, the first day of Lent.  For the next forty days, we are called to "reflect," to "inspect," and ultimately to "resurrect" on Easter Sunday.

While some observe this season by ceasing to do something as a representation of "sacrifice," Lent is often taken as an opportunity to adopt a new practice, or renew an old one.  For the next several weeks, we have chosen to consider the practice of prayer.

We will share our questions about prayer, our "successes and failures" in prayer, and what we have come to understand about prayer up to this point in our lives.

What we won't be able to share is "all the answers," because we definitely don't have them!  We are just travelers on a journey who are willing to share, "just as we are!"

Will you join us for these 40 Faithful Days?  There will be a new posting each Sunday, first from Scott on March 5, then from Kathy on March 12...and we will continue our alternating pattern all the way through the Lenten season.

We will use prayers found in scripture as a structure for our reflection and writing, including...

...Create in me a clean heart, O God...
...Our Father in heaven, holy is your name...
...Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespasses...
...O Lord, why have you forsaken me?...

We hope you will join us and invite others to do the same!

In Christ,

Kathy and Scott