I'm reading "The Way of the Heart" by Henri Nouwen.
In the section titled "Silence", Nouwen points to the truth that when we speak too many words it is like leaving the door open to the sauna and letting all the heat out. Instead, he exhorts us to speak fewer, warmer and meaningful words.
He also points to the silence of God as our creative and re-creative power. I'm blown away by the poetry and depth of Nouwen's explanation here:
"Here we can glimpse the great mystery in which we participate through silence and the Word, the mystery of God's own speaking. Out of his eternal silence God spoke the Word, and through this Word created and re-created the world. In the beginning God spoke the land, the sea and the sky. He spoke the sun, the moon and the stars. He spoke plants, birds, fish, animals wild and tame. Finally, he spoke man and woman. Then, in the fullness of time, God's Word, through whom all had been created, became flesh and gave power to all who believe to become the children of God. In all this, the Word of God does not break the silence of God, but rather unfolds the immeasurable richness of his silence."
I'm struck by the concept of God's "eternal silence" being a well from which he speaks creation into being. And I'm struck by my own many words that I speak constantly out of compulsion.
Jesus, help me to be more silent and thus to understand what Nouwen means when he says,
"Thus silence is the mystery of the future world. It keeps us pilgrims and prevents us from becoming entangled in the cares of this age. It guards the fire of the Holy Spirit who dwells within us. It allows us to speak a word that participates in the creative and re-creative power of God's own Word."
Saturday, October 9, 2010
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
Tricked out Truck
I was struck just now with a memory of Kathy in a Bible Study on the book of Hebrews. It must have been 13 years ago now. The group was made up of mostly Campus Crusaders and we were all discussing the beginning of the book. The question arose about who the author might have been and who his audience was and what the setting might have been. These are all nice comfortable questions and we weren't asking them in order to unpack some richer, deeper spiritual truth. We were asking these questions because we all wanted to be intellectuals. We wanted to understand the book better than folks who just “read it”.
Kathy spoke up. Well it was more of an outburst. She said “I think we're totally missing the point here!” She didn't say it in a nice tempered way either, she was obviously pissed. Here was a book declaring the incredible nature and being of Christ Jesus and we were missing it.
And I see it in myself and those around me still, all the time. It's like we're all standing around with the neighbors looking at a buddy's new tricked out truck. It's raised up five feet to clear immense boulders. It's paint is beautiful but it's also incredibly tough so that if a tree falls on it there won't even be a scratch. The engine has a snorkel sticking out the top so that it can actually submerge and keep running. We are all standing around looking at it in amazement. We comment on different features and nod in agreement until a little kid in the back of the crowd seizes on a quiet moment to say “Let's take it for a ride!”
Of course all the adults just smile and look at their feet in embarrassment. “Impetuous child, someone take him home.” Then the owner of the truck pulls it into the garage where he covers it up again. He'll bring it out again next Sunday so that we can all gawk at it and talk about how amazing it is.
Yea, that's what Kathy was talking about so many years ago. I didn't catch it at the time because I was one of those polite neighbors but she was calling me on the fact that the Bible is intended to introduce me to Jesus. Just like that truck is not meant for truck shows or a drive to the store, the Bible is not meant to be read and ignored. It isn't a self help book. It's a serious declaration of the King of Kings. It's an introduction to Jesus.
I pledge to make sure I don't leave it in the garage anymore. The adventure is out there with Jesus. He doesn't want to merely take us down the paved city streets either. He's on the back roads and in the dangerous places. He's in the pain and the joy and the mundane. He speaks to us constantly and leads us. If I'm daring I'll listen and follow him. I'm not scared. He's built for the adventure like the truck is built to go off road.
Let's walk with Jesus today, wherever that might be.
Kathy spoke up. Well it was more of an outburst. She said “I think we're totally missing the point here!” She didn't say it in a nice tempered way either, she was obviously pissed. Here was a book declaring the incredible nature and being of Christ Jesus and we were missing it.
And I see it in myself and those around me still, all the time. It's like we're all standing around with the neighbors looking at a buddy's new tricked out truck. It's raised up five feet to clear immense boulders. It's paint is beautiful but it's also incredibly tough so that if a tree falls on it there won't even be a scratch. The engine has a snorkel sticking out the top so that it can actually submerge and keep running. We are all standing around looking at it in amazement. We comment on different features and nod in agreement until a little kid in the back of the crowd seizes on a quiet moment to say “Let's take it for a ride!”
Of course all the adults just smile and look at their feet in embarrassment. “Impetuous child, someone take him home.” Then the owner of the truck pulls it into the garage where he covers it up again. He'll bring it out again next Sunday so that we can all gawk at it and talk about how amazing it is.
Yea, that's what Kathy was talking about so many years ago. I didn't catch it at the time because I was one of those polite neighbors but she was calling me on the fact that the Bible is intended to introduce me to Jesus. Just like that truck is not meant for truck shows or a drive to the store, the Bible is not meant to be read and ignored. It isn't a self help book. It's a serious declaration of the King of Kings. It's an introduction to Jesus.
I pledge to make sure I don't leave it in the garage anymore. The adventure is out there with Jesus. He doesn't want to merely take us down the paved city streets either. He's on the back roads and in the dangerous places. He's in the pain and the joy and the mundane. He speaks to us constantly and leads us. If I'm daring I'll listen and follow him. I'm not scared. He's built for the adventure like the truck is built to go off road.
Let's walk with Jesus today, wherever that might be.
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
Insurance Review? Nope, another back road with Jesus.
Willie
Willie married Robert in 1960. I met with her to review her insurance. They've been insured by Farmers for some 30 years now. We talked about insurance for about 10 minutes. The rest of the hour we took a back road with Jesus together.
Willie and Robert have been married for 50 years now. They are in the time of life when you hope that you are both healthy enough to have been enjoying your “Golden Years” together. You have some fun, enjoy some restful vacations perhaps. Maybe taking an annual cruise or doing some sort of travel together. You get to see your kids and grand kids growing. Maybe you reach out to help them financially once in a while as they struggle with life.
Willie was pregnant with their third child 43 years ago when Robert was hit by a car and disabled. He was in the hospital for months. They didn't have much in those days as a young married couple with kids. Now Robert would be unable to work to provide for them. Sometimes he wasn't sure where he was. Though he survived the accident, life would never be the same.
So for 43 years Willie has been the primary parent, wage-earner and care giver to her disabled husband. Forty-three years. That's more than my entire life. As I think of the sheer weight of time involved there the hopes and dreams of “normal” flood in. But there has been no “normal” for Willie. If I were on an earthly plane I might have asked “how does someone find the strength to do that?” But sitting at her kitchen table we've been transported to another realm with Jesus. As Willie talked she shrugged off any question of “why?” like a flick of the hair. She described her 43 years without sugar coating. She didn't tell it through rose colored glasses but she didn't mourn any loss of dreams either. Her statement cut through all confusion as she ended her story saying “You don't expect or plan for life to be this way or that you'll have to struggle with things like this but he is my love.”
And this is what love does. Love cares for a disabled spouse for 43 years. And love does much more than that. Love gives everything to raise her three children to know Jesus. Love works and struggles to pay the bills. Love volunteers as a youth pastor for the Salvation Army. Love tells these young people that they can be more than their parents think they can be. Love reaches into the lives of these kids and fills them with a faith that Someone believes in them, that they are loveable. And the kids responded. They believed better of themselves because Willie saw them with the eyes of Christ, that they have value. Willie transforms her world with the love of God. Her love flows from the presence of Christ in her every movement. She speaks of the Lord as someone who knows experientially that He is right there next to her.
As we spoke Robert came into the room for a few minutes. I took time to answer his questions about their insurance even though she had just told me that his mind is going and he can't remember things anymore. For the past 6 years she has taken over even more aspects of care for him. The look in her eyes made it clear that she appreciated me treating him with dignity. After he left she said “He's having a good day today.” I'm almost embarrassed as I understand the intimacy I am witnessing between them. They speak to each other and about each other with such affection that being in the same room with them makes me miss my wife. I want to hold her hand now. Love is infectious that way.
Willie married Robert in 1960. I met with her to review her insurance. They've been insured by Farmers for some 30 years now. We talked about insurance for about 10 minutes. The rest of the hour we took a back road with Jesus together.
Willie and Robert have been married for 50 years now. They are in the time of life when you hope that you are both healthy enough to have been enjoying your “Golden Years” together. You have some fun, enjoy some restful vacations perhaps. Maybe taking an annual cruise or doing some sort of travel together. You get to see your kids and grand kids growing. Maybe you reach out to help them financially once in a while as they struggle with life.
Willie was pregnant with their third child 43 years ago when Robert was hit by a car and disabled. He was in the hospital for months. They didn't have much in those days as a young married couple with kids. Now Robert would be unable to work to provide for them. Sometimes he wasn't sure where he was. Though he survived the accident, life would never be the same.
So for 43 years Willie has been the primary parent, wage-earner and care giver to her disabled husband. Forty-three years. That's more than my entire life. As I think of the sheer weight of time involved there the hopes and dreams of “normal” flood in. But there has been no “normal” for Willie. If I were on an earthly plane I might have asked “how does someone find the strength to do that?” But sitting at her kitchen table we've been transported to another realm with Jesus. As Willie talked she shrugged off any question of “why?” like a flick of the hair. She described her 43 years without sugar coating. She didn't tell it through rose colored glasses but she didn't mourn any loss of dreams either. Her statement cut through all confusion as she ended her story saying “You don't expect or plan for life to be this way or that you'll have to struggle with things like this but he is my love.”
And this is what love does. Love cares for a disabled spouse for 43 years. And love does much more than that. Love gives everything to raise her three children to know Jesus. Love works and struggles to pay the bills. Love volunteers as a youth pastor for the Salvation Army. Love tells these young people that they can be more than their parents think they can be. Love reaches into the lives of these kids and fills them with a faith that Someone believes in them, that they are loveable. And the kids responded. They believed better of themselves because Willie saw them with the eyes of Christ, that they have value. Willie transforms her world with the love of God. Her love flows from the presence of Christ in her every movement. She speaks of the Lord as someone who knows experientially that He is right there next to her.
As we spoke Robert came into the room for a few minutes. I took time to answer his questions about their insurance even though she had just told me that his mind is going and he can't remember things anymore. For the past 6 years she has taken over even more aspects of care for him. The look in her eyes made it clear that she appreciated me treating him with dignity. After he left she said “He's having a good day today.” I'm almost embarrassed as I understand the intimacy I am witnessing between them. They speak to each other and about each other with such affection that being in the same room with them makes me miss my wife. I want to hold her hand now. Love is infectious that way.
Thursday, June 10, 2010
Why Jennifer Knapp Makes Me Weep, by Jen
Jennifer Knapp. Her heart in song and poetry has touched deep places within and ushered me into intimate, naked worship with my Savior many, many times. I have felt a connection with her somehow and understood her language. She has always been on my heart. I have prayed for her often and love her wishing I could hear more of her heart and be a friend. For some reason long before anyone knew about it, maybe even before Jen herself knew, God revealed to me that she struggled with her sexual identity. Though the Christian community was rocked and disillusioned when she came out a few months ago, God was not at all rattled. He has always known the heart of His beloved Jen.
Last night I felt drawn to really give her heart a hearing. I read/watched all the interviews, listened to her new songs. Bless her, she has never stopped seeking wholeness, never stopped seeking the One who is Love. It seems evident to me that she still walks with God. Her relationship with Him appears to be living and breathing, and she seems to know her own heart pretty well too.
Her story grieves me deeply, not so much because of her choice (I fully trust the Father with her heart) but because of most of the Christian community's response to her. It reveals some deep sins in the church that we continually explain away or are blind to. Things blatantly and passionately taught against in scripture that, quite honestly, should make us fall on our knees weeping in repentance and fasting.
Right now Jen honestly believes that the scriptures could be interpreted differently to allow room for sexual intimacy with the same gender. It makes me weep that she never found a safe place within most churches to wrestle with real questions and deep issues. She was a baby Christian when she was propelled into the spotlight of Christian expectations. She was all of a sudden expected to be an example of Christian perfection. What of the her wounds that needed healing and her questions? She continually had to hide that part of her heart. She is not the only one. There are so many disheartened that feel so alone in the journey. This is not OK, friends.
Some brokenness and questions are socially acceptable in the American church culture, but many deep honest souls have no listening ears in the church today. Honestly, these people scare the CRAP out of us who feel like we are barely keeping it together! WHY? These are the very people Jesus loved to be around! We cannot shrug this off anymore, (really, dare we?!) because these are the sins, the self righteous sins of the religious community, that Jesus was the most harsh with. I've heard this said a lot. We know this. And yet we ostracize our brothers and sisters who struggle with unacceptable sins when we ourselves struggle (maybe we don't even struggle anymore) with different sins just as grievous but more acceptable in our circles.
We admit we are uncomfortable when we are around those people. We can minister to certain people with certain struggles, but if we get into certain ugly sins/struggles, we send them to "professional" counselors, at best or beat them into the ground with the right answers to fix them up quickly or get rid of them all together. “Just obey and you will be blessed” that's the gentle rebuke, “You are going to hell if you don't change” a bit more harsh! We heap scriptures on them telling them what they need to do to be fixed. None of this is at all helpful. None of it is Life giving. These are not the responses of those who see the deep wounds or beautiful nakedness of the one questioning. These responses don't have any hint of Jesus in them. Only a relationship with the LIVING GOD can touch those places. (And yes, the written word of God is living and active, but it is not and was never meant to replace a relationship with the living and active Word, Jesus Himself!) And he may not seem to answer, He may not bring quick healing. What then? Do we assume God has left them? Do we not share our lives and hearts and walk with Jesus with them? Do we not look, wait and listen for Jesus in them trusting He is at work? Do we not have, THE COUNSELOR within us? WHO IS THIS ENIMIC JESUS WE KNOW THAT CANNOT LOVE THE JENNIFER KNAPPS? “Oh, but we do love her” we say. Sure... from a very far and safe distance we love her. REALLY? So now she has found a community of believers who accept her and justify what they most deeply wrestle with, just like most other Christians do. If this were not true, we would not have denominations and would not church shop. We would just meet with the believers around us and gather where we live.
One of the most grieving sin issues in our church today is that we are not open and real with each other. People! We ALL have deep brokenness!!! The only differences between us is that some are more aware of it than others. Some give up on healing because they have prayed for years and they haven't seen it. Some are simply not willing to look honestly at their brokenness. Hey, it is scary to be vulnerable! (Again, what courage it took for Jen to put herself out there.) We want wholeness now! So American. Beautiful children of God, it takes time in openness before our God AND EACH OTHER to come to deeper wholeness, to become more like Christ. And it is not a process that happens by simple obedience and strong will. That will only modify our behaviors, and that only as much as we have power within ourselves to do. True healing takes a supernatural power and a radical love and grace. Such power and grace is only found in a living, breathing relationship with Jesus. And, really, He gives Himself out much more liberally than we think. He shows up in the lives of people everywhere whether they acknowledge it is Him or not. We need to pull our heads out of wherever they are crammed into and ask Jesus for His eyes to see Him wherever, whenever and however and in whomever He shows up. Hint: He doesn't confine Himself to the local church.
If Jesus has left Jennifer Knapp, if He has pulled the Holy Spirit from her heart, then woe to the churches. If He has left her, then we, my dear brothers and sisters, are in BIG trouble!
Last night I felt drawn to really give her heart a hearing. I read/watched all the interviews, listened to her new songs. Bless her, she has never stopped seeking wholeness, never stopped seeking the One who is Love. It seems evident to me that she still walks with God. Her relationship with Him appears to be living and breathing, and she seems to know her own heart pretty well too.
Her story grieves me deeply, not so much because of her choice (I fully trust the Father with her heart) but because of most of the Christian community's response to her. It reveals some deep sins in the church that we continually explain away or are blind to. Things blatantly and passionately taught against in scripture that, quite honestly, should make us fall on our knees weeping in repentance and fasting.
Right now Jen honestly believes that the scriptures could be interpreted differently to allow room for sexual intimacy with the same gender. It makes me weep that she never found a safe place within most churches to wrestle with real questions and deep issues. She was a baby Christian when she was propelled into the spotlight of Christian expectations. She was all of a sudden expected to be an example of Christian perfection. What of the her wounds that needed healing and her questions? She continually had to hide that part of her heart. She is not the only one. There are so many disheartened that feel so alone in the journey. This is not OK, friends.
Some brokenness and questions are socially acceptable in the American church culture, but many deep honest souls have no listening ears in the church today. Honestly, these people scare the CRAP out of us who feel like we are barely keeping it together! WHY? These are the very people Jesus loved to be around! We cannot shrug this off anymore, (really, dare we?!) because these are the sins, the self righteous sins of the religious community, that Jesus was the most harsh with. I've heard this said a lot. We know this. And yet we ostracize our brothers and sisters who struggle with unacceptable sins when we ourselves struggle (maybe we don't even struggle anymore) with different sins just as grievous but more acceptable in our circles.
We admit we are uncomfortable when we are around those people. We can minister to certain people with certain struggles, but if we get into certain ugly sins/struggles, we send them to "professional" counselors, at best or beat them into the ground with the right answers to fix them up quickly or get rid of them all together. “Just obey and you will be blessed” that's the gentle rebuke, “You are going to hell if you don't change” a bit more harsh! We heap scriptures on them telling them what they need to do to be fixed. None of this is at all helpful. None of it is Life giving. These are not the responses of those who see the deep wounds or beautiful nakedness of the one questioning. These responses don't have any hint of Jesus in them. Only a relationship with the LIVING GOD can touch those places. (And yes, the written word of God is living and active, but it is not and was never meant to replace a relationship with the living and active Word, Jesus Himself!) And he may not seem to answer, He may not bring quick healing. What then? Do we assume God has left them? Do we not share our lives and hearts and walk with Jesus with them? Do we not look, wait and listen for Jesus in them trusting He is at work? Do we not have, THE COUNSELOR within us? WHO IS THIS ENIMIC JESUS WE KNOW THAT CANNOT LOVE THE JENNIFER KNAPPS? “Oh, but we do love her” we say. Sure... from a very far and safe distance we love her. REALLY? So now she has found a community of believers who accept her and justify what they most deeply wrestle with, just like most other Christians do. If this were not true, we would not have denominations and would not church shop. We would just meet with the believers around us and gather where we live.
One of the most grieving sin issues in our church today is that we are not open and real with each other. People! We ALL have deep brokenness!!! The only differences between us is that some are more aware of it than others. Some give up on healing because they have prayed for years and they haven't seen it. Some are simply not willing to look honestly at their brokenness. Hey, it is scary to be vulnerable! (Again, what courage it took for Jen to put herself out there.) We want wholeness now! So American. Beautiful children of God, it takes time in openness before our God AND EACH OTHER to come to deeper wholeness, to become more like Christ. And it is not a process that happens by simple obedience and strong will. That will only modify our behaviors, and that only as much as we have power within ourselves to do. True healing takes a supernatural power and a radical love and grace. Such power and grace is only found in a living, breathing relationship with Jesus. And, really, He gives Himself out much more liberally than we think. He shows up in the lives of people everywhere whether they acknowledge it is Him or not. We need to pull our heads out of wherever they are crammed into and ask Jesus for His eyes to see Him wherever, whenever and however and in whomever He shows up. Hint: He doesn't confine Himself to the local church.
If Jesus has left Jennifer Knapp, if He has pulled the Holy Spirit from her heart, then woe to the churches. If He has left her, then we, my dear brothers and sisters, are in BIG trouble!
Tuesday, May 25, 2010
A Hot Tub on the Back Road...
We got a kingdom update on the back road last night (5-21-10). Enjoying time away to celebrate our anniversary in Steamboat, we went to the hot tub. Just as we arrived and settled in, we saw a young boy and girl heading over, obviously prepared to join us. Bummer! They arrived with their mom and we started some idle chatter.
We found out that they attend a church in Denver that we pass by every time we come to Steamboat. Also, there was one daughter who was not with them on this trip. She had just arrived home from a missions trip to Ecuador and was too tired to be dragged away for the weekend. I think they had gone to Chinquil, Ecuador. They helped with some VBS ministry and raised about $1000 to give to a family to build a new home. One thousand dollars goes a long way considering they live in a hut with paper walls.
It felt like we were each just passing by and sharing a few stories of Jesus as we rested in our journeys. It is strangely and deeply comforting to hear first-hand how God is moving in another person's life. We discovered a family here who is precious to Jesus. He is moving in each of them. This daughter had an incredible hands-on time watching Jesus at work in Ecuador and that spilled over to her family. We just got splashed with a bit as well.
The Kingdom is advancing, it cannot be stopped!
As I was writing about this experience I heard Jesus say “Make a big deal out of this David.” My mind responds “What's the big deal? Fifteen minutes of chatter in a hot tub?” I've heard about mission trips before. I've met christian families before. But this time God stopped me and impressed on me that EVERY time I meet a Christian family, and EVERY time I hear about a mission trip, I ought to make a big deal about it.
I was given a picture of our encounter and it wasn't meaningless chit chat in a hot tub. It was two sentries behind the battle lines meeting and sharing stories from the front. Whether we were between assignments, carrying a message to another Captain or bringing fresh supplies to another area of the battle, this meeting was important. And every time we pass their church we will be reminded to pray for the family that God made to cross our path. We will pray for them to be bold in their faith, for that 15 year old to remember how God moved in and through her in Ecuador, for the other teens on that trip and we will be refreshed by remembering that God is on the move. I got a notion and I don't have any particular Biblical reference to back this up, but I got a notion that Satan will be utterly confused at where the help for this family is coming from. His Kingdom is advancing forcefully.
We found out that they attend a church in Denver that we pass by every time we come to Steamboat. Also, there was one daughter who was not with them on this trip. She had just arrived home from a missions trip to Ecuador and was too tired to be dragged away for the weekend. I think they had gone to Chinquil, Ecuador. They helped with some VBS ministry and raised about $1000 to give to a family to build a new home. One thousand dollars goes a long way considering they live in a hut with paper walls.
It felt like we were each just passing by and sharing a few stories of Jesus as we rested in our journeys. It is strangely and deeply comforting to hear first-hand how God is moving in another person's life. We discovered a family here who is precious to Jesus. He is moving in each of them. This daughter had an incredible hands-on time watching Jesus at work in Ecuador and that spilled over to her family. We just got splashed with a bit as well.
The Kingdom is advancing, it cannot be stopped!
As I was writing about this experience I heard Jesus say “Make a big deal out of this David.” My mind responds “What's the big deal? Fifteen minutes of chatter in a hot tub?” I've heard about mission trips before. I've met christian families before. But this time God stopped me and impressed on me that EVERY time I meet a Christian family, and EVERY time I hear about a mission trip, I ought to make a big deal about it.
I was given a picture of our encounter and it wasn't meaningless chit chat in a hot tub. It was two sentries behind the battle lines meeting and sharing stories from the front. Whether we were between assignments, carrying a message to another Captain or bringing fresh supplies to another area of the battle, this meeting was important. And every time we pass their church we will be reminded to pray for the family that God made to cross our path. We will pray for them to be bold in their faith, for that 15 year old to remember how God moved in and through her in Ecuador, for the other teens on that trip and we will be refreshed by remembering that God is on the move. I got a notion and I don't have any particular Biblical reference to back this up, but I got a notion that Satan will be utterly confused at where the help for this family is coming from. His Kingdom is advancing forcefully.
Friday, May 14, 2010
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Jesus on the way...
How important is it that I arrive on time? I know, if I have an appointment or meeting that I need to respect the other parties involved and get there on time, but what about when we leave on vacations? Why am I still uptight about schedules then? It's as if vacation doesn't start until we get there. The packing, the driving, the stopping for potty breaks don't count as vacation.
Unfortunately this kind of thinking also removes my ability to rest on a daily basis. I get up in the morning, gotta get to the gym, gotta get to the office, gotta get that next marketing plan done, or in place, gotta make phone calls, gotta... The end of the day comes and I have been caught in the whirlwind of activity with no focus or purpose and without my awareness of Jesus. It's like driving on the interstate looking for my destination and unable to enjoy the journey. Amazing sunrises, mountains, rivers, forests and quirky people, even Jesus Himself might be seen all around on the journey, but I've missed it.
If Jesus is found on the back roads, it is because He is less concerned with my timely arrival than He is with enjoying the journey with me. He enjoys the scenic route. He wants to amaze and inspire in the quiet little sleepy towns found there. He is not a program to be implemented but a person to relate with. I'm finding He is far less concerned with my “doing” than He is with my “being”. I've found He is far less concerned with my “arrival” than with my “journey”.
So, I rest easy in the imperfection of the now. Yet I know that He is with me and that is enough.
Unfortunately this kind of thinking also removes my ability to rest on a daily basis. I get up in the morning, gotta get to the gym, gotta get to the office, gotta get that next marketing plan done, or in place, gotta make phone calls, gotta... The end of the day comes and I have been caught in the whirlwind of activity with no focus or purpose and without my awareness of Jesus. It's like driving on the interstate looking for my destination and unable to enjoy the journey. Amazing sunrises, mountains, rivers, forests and quirky people, even Jesus Himself might be seen all around on the journey, but I've missed it.
If Jesus is found on the back roads, it is because He is less concerned with my timely arrival than He is with enjoying the journey with me. He enjoys the scenic route. He wants to amaze and inspire in the quiet little sleepy towns found there. He is not a program to be implemented but a person to relate with. I'm finding He is far less concerned with my “doing” than He is with my “being”. I've found He is far less concerned with my “arrival” than with my “journey”.
So, I rest easy in the imperfection of the now. Yet I know that He is with me and that is enough.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Remembering My Journey on the Back Road
One of my mentors posted a quote on his blog from Thomas Merton. Alan Fadling spoke of his own perfectionism as a place of ongoing recovery. I've often used the words of Jack Miller to describe my own similar path – “My name is Dave and I am a recovering Pharisee.” Here's his quote:
“All in all, we suffer from the disease of perfectionism, which is the biggest obstacle to true perfection because it dries up the interior spirit, kills real faith, makes us concentrate on ourselves instead of Jesus, puts a “false Jesus” in our hearts instead of the real Jesus Who is a Savior. He is not waiting for us to become angels before He starts to love us. He loves us because we are imperfect, not because we are good but because He is good…. Most of them believe this only in theory. They are obsessed with their own miserable little “perfection” and “imperfection.”.” (Thomas Merton. The School of Charity. Selected and edited by Brother Patrick Hart. New York: Farrar Strauss Giroux, 1990, p. 58.)
This disease, as Merton puts it, is insidious in it's permeation of my soul. It creates a pattern that leads me consistently away from Christ and His very real righteousness given to me. The pattern has looked something like this through the years:
First I come to Jesus, it is refreshing and new and I feel the healing down to my toes. It's as though my strong Father, the hero of my story has come along side me, placed His hand on my shoulder and said “It's going to be alright David, I Am here.” Those simple words crush the heart of stone and create a new heart of flesh that He takes in His hands and molds into the likeness of His own.
But the stoney heart soon attempts to retake its throne. It doesn't attempt to come against the power of heaven. That would be fruitless. Instead it seeks agreement in the new life, with a slight tweak. It says something like “Yes, this is good, a good place to be. I like this, I can work with this. Thank you Jesus, I'll take it from here. I just needed a clean slate, a spiritual bankruptcy so to speak. Now You've empowered me to live life. I have Your instruction booklet, I'll learn it. And look at these people around you, what are the spiritual ones doing? They go to church? I can go to church. They don't smoke? I can do that. They don't swear? I can stop doing that.”
And so it begins to slowly, one degree at a time, inch my heart back into itself. Instead of living under the grace that was freely given and freely received in the beginning, I begin to feel as though I've earned just a little bit of it. Instead of giving all the praise to Jesus and extolling Him alone for any victory in my life, I begin to say “Thanks for the help Jesus, I appreciate it. Call you later.”
But then I was struck by the words of Jack Miller who said “Cheer up, you're worse than you think.” And Martin Luther who said “We must learn to repent even of our good works.” Suddenly I realize that I have not had to give a reason to anyone for the joy that is in me because there has been no joy within me. The Gospel had become a list of tasks with no life in them. I was always striving to find the joy Jesus promised and always frustrated that it just kept feeling like work with no payoff. And so, the realization that my sin was even deeper than I thought was a blessing. I could go back to the beginning, back to the joy that I had at first, back to Jesus.
My Pharisee heart had to be crushed by the law the way the Pharisees were crushed by the law in Matthew 24. I needed to realize that the story of the two sons in Luke 15 was about me. It's not about the younger brother at all. The younger brother is only there to show the magnificent grace of the Father to the elder brother. The story is about the elder brother and whether or not he will come and join the party. Yes, Jesus was calling the Pharisees to join in the party and rejoice over their younger “prodigal” brothers.
When I read that story and found myself sympathizing with the elder brother and thinking that Jesus was wrong, I realized that something was incredibly out of whack in my heart. If Jesus was calling me to join the party, why was I sitting outside sulking? If Jesus was declaring me righteous enough to come in and celebrate and saying that “all that I have has always been yours” then why did I operate as though I were a poor broken sinner?
Today I'm seeing more and deeper healing in my heart. It's not a healing that leads me back into the Law but deeper into the Gospel. My life, more and more is being marked by God's grace. I see Him offering me all that is His. It's amazing.
I heard the words of this song really for the first time this morning:
No guilt of life, no fear of death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
'til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand
In His Grip,
Dave
“All in all, we suffer from the disease of perfectionism, which is the biggest obstacle to true perfection because it dries up the interior spirit, kills real faith, makes us concentrate on ourselves instead of Jesus, puts a “false Jesus” in our hearts instead of the real Jesus Who is a Savior. He is not waiting for us to become angels before He starts to love us. He loves us because we are imperfect, not because we are good but because He is good…. Most of them believe this only in theory. They are obsessed with their own miserable little “perfection” and “imperfection.”.” (Thomas Merton. The School of Charity. Selected and edited by Brother Patrick Hart. New York: Farrar Strauss Giroux, 1990, p. 58.)
This disease, as Merton puts it, is insidious in it's permeation of my soul. It creates a pattern that leads me consistently away from Christ and His very real righteousness given to me. The pattern has looked something like this through the years:
First I come to Jesus, it is refreshing and new and I feel the healing down to my toes. It's as though my strong Father, the hero of my story has come along side me, placed His hand on my shoulder and said “It's going to be alright David, I Am here.” Those simple words crush the heart of stone and create a new heart of flesh that He takes in His hands and molds into the likeness of His own.
But the stoney heart soon attempts to retake its throne. It doesn't attempt to come against the power of heaven. That would be fruitless. Instead it seeks agreement in the new life, with a slight tweak. It says something like “Yes, this is good, a good place to be. I like this, I can work with this. Thank you Jesus, I'll take it from here. I just needed a clean slate, a spiritual bankruptcy so to speak. Now You've empowered me to live life. I have Your instruction booklet, I'll learn it. And look at these people around you, what are the spiritual ones doing? They go to church? I can go to church. They don't smoke? I can do that. They don't swear? I can stop doing that.”
And so it begins to slowly, one degree at a time, inch my heart back into itself. Instead of living under the grace that was freely given and freely received in the beginning, I begin to feel as though I've earned just a little bit of it. Instead of giving all the praise to Jesus and extolling Him alone for any victory in my life, I begin to say “Thanks for the help Jesus, I appreciate it. Call you later.”
But then I was struck by the words of Jack Miller who said “Cheer up, you're worse than you think.” And Martin Luther who said “We must learn to repent even of our good works.” Suddenly I realize that I have not had to give a reason to anyone for the joy that is in me because there has been no joy within me. The Gospel had become a list of tasks with no life in them. I was always striving to find the joy Jesus promised and always frustrated that it just kept feeling like work with no payoff. And so, the realization that my sin was even deeper than I thought was a blessing. I could go back to the beginning, back to the joy that I had at first, back to Jesus.
My Pharisee heart had to be crushed by the law the way the Pharisees were crushed by the law in Matthew 24. I needed to realize that the story of the two sons in Luke 15 was about me. It's not about the younger brother at all. The younger brother is only there to show the magnificent grace of the Father to the elder brother. The story is about the elder brother and whether or not he will come and join the party. Yes, Jesus was calling the Pharisees to join in the party and rejoice over their younger “prodigal” brothers.
When I read that story and found myself sympathizing with the elder brother and thinking that Jesus was wrong, I realized that something was incredibly out of whack in my heart. If Jesus was calling me to join the party, why was I sitting outside sulking? If Jesus was declaring me righteous enough to come in and celebrate and saying that “all that I have has always been yours” then why did I operate as though I were a poor broken sinner?
Today I'm seeing more and deeper healing in my heart. It's not a healing that leads me back into the Law but deeper into the Gospel. My life, more and more is being marked by God's grace. I see Him offering me all that is His. It's amazing.
I heard the words of this song really for the first time this morning:
No guilt of life, no fear of death
This is the power of Christ in me
From life's first cry to final breath
Jesus commands my destiny
No power of hell, no scheme of man
Can ever pluck me from His hand
'til He returns or calls me home
Here in the power of Christ I'll stand
In His Grip,
Dave
Sunday, May 2, 2010
Backroad Jesus
Most of my life is currently lived inside my town of Colorado Springs. I'm raising my girls here with my beautiful wife in our little house. I work here and interact with customers and colleagues for business here. We have many friends here after 10 years of living. We worship here and meet God here. Most of my travels consist of driving the city streets over and over. They are familiar and constant. I see the same fellow travelers on my commute; the same street people; the same kids waiting for school to start. I love this town and don't mind the familiarity of its streets, but I love the back roads even more.
The back roads up in the mountains are loaded with refreshment for my soul. The further you drive, the less traveled the roads are and the more refreshing the air is. There is mystery there. Old dirt roads that disappear into a canyon, their twin tracks through grassy meadows that have almost recovered from their use. It makes my mind think of covered wagons, trappers, hunters or pioneers from 150 years ago. My imagination starts to think about what life was like for them. I'm transported to another land, another time, and I become less trapped by my day to day life. On the back roads of life's journey is where I find Jesus too.
He's mysterious. He appears as I'm driving down a familiar road like twin tracks through the dense trees. Sometimes I ignore the invitation and think “I'll check out that road another time.” But I've learned that I'm rarely able to find that particular road again. So more and more I'm open to His invitation and take every opportunity to meet with Him. I've noticed that there are many other travelers who join me from time to time on the back roads.
So, I intend to document and journal some back road experiences with Jesus. I'll talk about fellow travelers, invitations, mysterious appearances and wonderful experiences of Christ along the journey. After all, He may not always appear in the same place or in the same way twice, but He's not difficult to find... “The heavens are LOUD with the Glory of God!”
The back roads up in the mountains are loaded with refreshment for my soul. The further you drive, the less traveled the roads are and the more refreshing the air is. There is mystery there. Old dirt roads that disappear into a canyon, their twin tracks through grassy meadows that have almost recovered from their use. It makes my mind think of covered wagons, trappers, hunters or pioneers from 150 years ago. My imagination starts to think about what life was like for them. I'm transported to another land, another time, and I become less trapped by my day to day life. On the back roads of life's journey is where I find Jesus too.
He's mysterious. He appears as I'm driving down a familiar road like twin tracks through the dense trees. Sometimes I ignore the invitation and think “I'll check out that road another time.” But I've learned that I'm rarely able to find that particular road again. So more and more I'm open to His invitation and take every opportunity to meet with Him. I've noticed that there are many other travelers who join me from time to time on the back roads.
So, I intend to document and journal some back road experiences with Jesus. I'll talk about fellow travelers, invitations, mysterious appearances and wonderful experiences of Christ along the journey. After all, He may not always appear in the same place or in the same way twice, but He's not difficult to find... “The heavens are LOUD with the Glory of God!”
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Cultural Loss
One of my mentors, Ed Chinn, recently sent me an email chronicaling the woes of our airline industry. It centered on the fact that airlines seemed to be looking to push customers to the brink of hating air travel. They charge for bags, charge to change a ticket, charge to use flyer miles, etc. It made me recall some other industries that have lost something over the past couple decades and I wrote this reply:
Back in the late 80’s, early 90’s I remember Nordstrom running a focus group. It was reported that they found people were more price conscious than service oriented. Nordstrom decided to get rid of seasoned professionals and instead hire lower wage entry level folks who would essentially run the checkout and stock the shelves. No more shopper help or real sales help would be offered. Lots of retail outlets followed suit and now if you have a question, nobody in these stores knows the answer. Customer service was deemed to be too expensive and not highly valued in our culture, so they stopped paying for it. I think the result is that there’s really no difference now between Nordstrom and Target. The perceived value of buying at Nordstrom is pretty well gone.
Home Depot used to be a place that hired people who knew how to do home repairs. There were specialists in the plumbing department to make sure you could get everything you needed for a repair in one trip. Lowes had lower prices because they hired 18 year old shelf stockers. They could tell you which aisle to go to but that was it. I remember the last trip I made to a smaller chain in FL. I was looking for a soldering gun and nobody knew what I was talking about. After describing it to one “helpful” person he pointed me to the electric drills. I left and never returned to that store.
Remember when you had to go talk to a teller in order to get your money from the bank? Then they decided they could have shorter lines by putting in an ATM. Now you pay for the privilege of NOT talking to a teller to get your money. Does the ATM actually cost the bank money? Is that cost actually higher than a teller’s salary?
Remember when you could go to a bakery in your neighborhood and buy fresh bread? Remember when there was a neighborhood butcher with fresh meat? Are there any bakeries in your neighborhood anymore? Any butchers?
The American way seems to have transformed our country into a homogenous mega store where convenience and low prices reign supreme. Trouble is, those prices aren’t very low anymore and we’ve lost something of our culture. And how is it convenient for me to park a mile from the mega store only to find that when I get to the entrance I have another mile to walk to get to the section I want? Is it really important for me to be able to purchase my bananas, home theatre system and jeans all in the same store? I don’t travel that much but I’ll bet that I could travel to the 30 largest cities in America and eat at the same restaurant each time (fast food or high end), shop at the same store and of course I’d see the same entertainment, same souvenirs etc.
Why travel anymore? There’s nothing new to see.
Back in the late 80’s, early 90’s I remember Nordstrom running a focus group. It was reported that they found people were more price conscious than service oriented. Nordstrom decided to get rid of seasoned professionals and instead hire lower wage entry level folks who would essentially run the checkout and stock the shelves. No more shopper help or real sales help would be offered. Lots of retail outlets followed suit and now if you have a question, nobody in these stores knows the answer. Customer service was deemed to be too expensive and not highly valued in our culture, so they stopped paying for it. I think the result is that there’s really no difference now between Nordstrom and Target. The perceived value of buying at Nordstrom is pretty well gone.
Home Depot used to be a place that hired people who knew how to do home repairs. There were specialists in the plumbing department to make sure you could get everything you needed for a repair in one trip. Lowes had lower prices because they hired 18 year old shelf stockers. They could tell you which aisle to go to but that was it. I remember the last trip I made to a smaller chain in FL. I was looking for a soldering gun and nobody knew what I was talking about. After describing it to one “helpful” person he pointed me to the electric drills. I left and never returned to that store.
Remember when you had to go talk to a teller in order to get your money from the bank? Then they decided they could have shorter lines by putting in an ATM. Now you pay for the privilege of NOT talking to a teller to get your money. Does the ATM actually cost the bank money? Is that cost actually higher than a teller’s salary?
Remember when you could go to a bakery in your neighborhood and buy fresh bread? Remember when there was a neighborhood butcher with fresh meat? Are there any bakeries in your neighborhood anymore? Any butchers?
The American way seems to have transformed our country into a homogenous mega store where convenience and low prices reign supreme. Trouble is, those prices aren’t very low anymore and we’ve lost something of our culture. And how is it convenient for me to park a mile from the mega store only to find that when I get to the entrance I have another mile to walk to get to the section I want? Is it really important for me to be able to purchase my bananas, home theatre system and jeans all in the same store? I don’t travel that much but I’ll bet that I could travel to the 30 largest cities in America and eat at the same restaurant each time (fast food or high end), shop at the same store and of course I’d see the same entertainment, same souvenirs etc.
Why travel anymore? There’s nothing new to see.
Friday, May 22, 2009
"The Thunderstorm, the Seedlings and Me" by Jen
The day was mostly gone and the grey sky decided to release its contents onto the waiting earth of my empty garden. Being compelled to see what kind of a Memorial Day weekend it was to be, I checked the 10 day forecast; the prognosis… rain, and lots of it, for as far into the future as the experts could perceive. Rain means mud. Mud means that it is difficult to till in compost and sow the seeds that have been growing quite impatient as the frost has been long gone for weeks. My few seedlings were becoming root bound and longed so much to wiggle their toes into the dirt that they were beginning to look a bit ill. How could I keep them waiting until the ground was dry again? Who knows how long that would be? The rain, though coming faster, had not yet saturated the ground. There was still time.
I plopped the girls in front of the TV and left Meg in charge as I headed out to the shed donning my bright green rain poncho. There was thunder, but far enough off as to not worry me. As I hurriedly wheeled my wheelbarrow heavily laden with manure past my introverted neighbor who was sitting with his son in his garage enjoying the storm, I felt the need to inform him. “I know it’s dangerous to be out in this lightening,” I exclaimed, “but I just HAVE to get this done!” He looked startled and simply said, “Oh. OK.” It was awkward.
I was pleased to find that the soil was indeed dry enough to till, but I had to work fast, the thunder was growing louder. I got the section for the lettuce all completed, when I suddenly had a vision of being struck by lighting and the girls discovering me there. Yes, I know, my thoughts wander into the morbid at times. Deciding that it might be God giving me a hint, I was overcome by my conscience and begrudgingly trudged with some difficulty up to the house, my feet heavy with mud. Within a couple of minutes, a lightening bolt hit seemingly very close to where I was digging a few moments before! I thanked God for the warning and went down to hug my girls. (OK, there was no bolt of lightening; I just made that part up to make the story more interesting.)
Once the thunder again grew distant, I headed back out to complete the project. It was pouring now and I caught a glimpse of two of my neighbors peering out of their windows at me covered in mud and drenched in spite of my neon rain poncho. I didn’t care. I had done it! The rainy days would now serve me and my emerging plants well. Nature would give them the necessary moisture with which to flourish without me having to water at all.
As I stood in the finished garden, with the torrent of rain unable to drench me any further that it already had, I felt a sudden desire to dance a jig, right there in the mud-puddled path. Concerned that I would only be providing my neighbors with more evidence that I was indeed nuts, I instead said a quiet blessing over the ground. “Creator God, bless this bit of earth that it may be fruitful and bring forth joy and nutrition for me and my loved ones.”
So, my garden is in. This Summer my hard work will be rewarded with three kinds of tomatoes, snap peas, spinach, chard, zucchini, carrots, radishes, beets, broccoli, lettuce, shallots, pumpkins large and small, many different herbs, and colorful flowers in every corner of the yard.
The only thing that would have made my feelings of satisfaction more complete: I should have danced that jig, and invited the girls out to dance it with me.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Yet another embarrasing church experience
So, for Mother's Day we went to Steamboat to be with Mema. We decided to visit the Lutheran church up there since Mema and Grandpa had been talking about it but hadn't actually made it out there on a Sunday yet.
The church was sweet. Very friendly. We went to the later service, more contemporary. It was quite enjoyable but there was no nursery for that particular service so we had to keep Riesa in with us. I figured she'd be fine during the worship and then I'd proabably take her to the cry room during the service. The cry room was actually quite large, nice windows to the sanctuary and plenty of toys too.
After the sermon, I brought Riesa back to the sanctuary with everyone. She wasn't real loud but she was quite active.
It was during the announcements that she decided to really kick it into high gear. I was holding her, she was struggling for freedom. She had this determined look on her face and I was riding that fine line between keeping her quietly in my lap and her just loosing it right there. You know two year olds have no compunction about yelling any time they want.
Announcement time is pretty quiet. At one point I realized that she was trying to climb over the pew in front of us. Since nobody was sitting there I figured I would just let her go. She got one leg over and the look on her face went from determined-freedom-seeker to victorious-two-year-old. Then suddenly it changed to a very bright and excited look as she said "Ride neigh-neigh!" (Neigh-neigh means horse) Then she loudly exclaimed "NEIGH!!!"
She only got one "neigh" out before I grabbed her up in my arms and headed back to the cry room again. I wasn't so much embarrased actually as I was trying to stifle my laughter. Kind of funny.
The church was sweet. Very friendly. We went to the later service, more contemporary. It was quite enjoyable but there was no nursery for that particular service so we had to keep Riesa in with us. I figured she'd be fine during the worship and then I'd proabably take her to the cry room during the service. The cry room was actually quite large, nice windows to the sanctuary and plenty of toys too.
After the sermon, I brought Riesa back to the sanctuary with everyone. She wasn't real loud but she was quite active.
It was during the announcements that she decided to really kick it into high gear. I was holding her, she was struggling for freedom. She had this determined look on her face and I was riding that fine line between keeping her quietly in my lap and her just loosing it right there. You know two year olds have no compunction about yelling any time they want.
Announcement time is pretty quiet. At one point I realized that she was trying to climb over the pew in front of us. Since nobody was sitting there I figured I would just let her go. She got one leg over and the look on her face went from determined-freedom-seeker to victorious-two-year-old. Then suddenly it changed to a very bright and excited look as she said "Ride neigh-neigh!" (Neigh-neigh means horse) Then she loudly exclaimed "NEIGH!!!"
She only got one "neigh" out before I grabbed her up in my arms and headed back to the cry room again. I wasn't so much embarrased actually as I was trying to stifle my laughter. Kind of funny.
Sunday, May 3, 2009
Our Easter Sunday
Our Easter was quite unique this year. We have several family traditions that we were able to keep such as coloring Easter eggs, making Resurrection cookies, enjoying easter baskets hidden by the Easter Bunny (thanks Mr. Bunny, good job this year) and going to church and having an Easter egg hunt.
It's the church part that made our Sunday unique this year. We were having a relaxing morning enjoying the girls shouting "He is risen!" as they enjoyed Easter candy and got ready for church. They each had special Easter outfits to wear and had been looking forward to it for weeks.
Since we are originally from warmer climates, Easter dresses are usually not warm but the last couple years here there has been snow on the ground. Undaunted, the girls still dressed for Spring, sandals included.
Somehow, though we should have had plenty of time, we found ourselves rushing at the last minute to make it to church on time. We wanted to go to the middle service with the horns and choir, all the pomp and circumstance that you'd expect for a Resurrection Celebration. Ten minutes before it was time to leave the girls were barely ready to go and Jen was still in her PJs.
I suggested that perhaps we just relax and go to the next service but Jen looked at me with fire in her eyes and burned my nose off with laser beams saying "No! I'll be ready. I want to hear the horns!" To her credit, she was ready in 8 minutes flat, hair and all. I was amazed, never seen that in 15 years of marriage.
So we were pulling into the church parking lot about 2 minutes after the service was to start. I ordered the older girls to go straight to our usual seat in the balcony, if they didn't find a place to sit they were to wait for us there. Jen was to take Riesa to the nursery and rendevous with Meg and Noelle. I was on parking duty.
By the time I got to the balcony the girls had already discovered that there were no seats available in our usual spot. They saw some empty seats on the other side of the balcony and rushed around to that side only to find "reserved for brass" on the bench. When I got to them we all stood there wondering what to do as the service was under way, people were watching us uncomfortably and, I think, wishing we would just sit down so they could pay attention to the service.
Finally an usher came by and told us just to sit in the "reserved" area. "It will be fine, there should be enough room for you." he said. So we squished in as far as we could to give the brass whatever room we could, not knowing what to expect exactly.
The choir was beautiful, the brass played some majestic praise, very classical and proper kind of service. I should say that we generally go to the last service which is more contemporary, laid back and very not formal. So, this service is a little out of our comfort zone anyway. We sensed a collective sigh from those around us when we finally settled in a bit.
Still we are not a quiet bunch. I think Noelle dropped her shoes a couple times which fell with a THUD that seemed to echo to all those below. There were things going on that the girls were unfamiliar with and as good home school kids, when they don't understand something they are not afraid to ask. The problem is that they don't know how to whisper so they asked full voiced and unashamed. This not only disturbed those around us further but also revealed to them that we must never take our kids to church either.
After a bit, the brass section began to disband from their spots and they reappeared to the side of our pew with smiles on their faces. At first they seemed to think we might be ok, then they realized that there was no way the French horns were going to fit there with us. So we evacuated our pew and allowed them to sit. This left us standing in the aisle of the balcony back with the uncomfortable looks from those who got to the service on time.
I didn't know how long the brass folks were going to need our pew, I supposed that it might be for the rest of the service and rather than stand in the aisle, perhaps it would be better just to sit on the stairs. Now these stairs lead directly down to the sanctuary. The sanctuary is a quarter round so from where we sat we were basically facing those on the other side of the church. This wasn't a problem as long as we just sat still, I was sure people would begin to ignore us and turn their attention where it should be.
After the horns played, the pastor got up and said it was time for prayer. As the congregation stood, we stood along with them, again sticking out rather like sore thumbs. There was a quiet moment, very brief, perhaps only a second, after the congregation stood but before pastor started to pray. It was that kind of reverent silence of a people who are collectively preparing their hearts to go before the Lord. That's when I saw a glimmer at my feet.
It was my coffee cup. It shone in the light of the sanctuary as it tipped over on the step. Then it rolled in slow motion and I heard a scream in my head that said "NNnnnooooooooooooooooo"! I thought for a moment about making a diving save but then it reached the end of that first step and "THUD" hit the next step. I thought God would have mercy on me and it would stop after one step but much to my chagrin and dismay it only picked up momentum and flew off that step, missed the next one and began to spin from step to step all the way to the sanctuary floor. Now, this is not the service that people bring coffee cups into so I was already breaching protocol. Now everyone was looking at my family on the steps wondering what the heck we were doing. Then my coffee cup appeared at the bottom of the steps as if to say "Hey everyone, look at the irreverent doofus on the steps."
I am still somewhat surprised that they didn't send someone over to us and request us to go home.
Well, after prayer, the brass section left and we were able to go back to the seats. At communion time we went down the back steps and noticed the overflow room where everyone else who arrived late had gone. We had no idea there was an overflow room. We must have looked like pushy people who refused to be considered "overflow". Thus, I blame this whole fiasco squarely on the usher who first told us "I think you'll be fine." I know he's redeemed but when he arrives at the Judgment seat of Christ I hope He will play this little episode for him so that he can repent specifically.
It's the church part that made our Sunday unique this year. We were having a relaxing morning enjoying the girls shouting "He is risen!" as they enjoyed Easter candy and got ready for church. They each had special Easter outfits to wear and had been looking forward to it for weeks.
Since we are originally from warmer climates, Easter dresses are usually not warm but the last couple years here there has been snow on the ground. Undaunted, the girls still dressed for Spring, sandals included.
Somehow, though we should have had plenty of time, we found ourselves rushing at the last minute to make it to church on time. We wanted to go to the middle service with the horns and choir, all the pomp and circumstance that you'd expect for a Resurrection Celebration. Ten minutes before it was time to leave the girls were barely ready to go and Jen was still in her PJs.
I suggested that perhaps we just relax and go to the next service but Jen looked at me with fire in her eyes and burned my nose off with laser beams saying "No! I'll be ready. I want to hear the horns!" To her credit, she was ready in 8 minutes flat, hair and all. I was amazed, never seen that in 15 years of marriage.
So we were pulling into the church parking lot about 2 minutes after the service was to start. I ordered the older girls to go straight to our usual seat in the balcony, if they didn't find a place to sit they were to wait for us there. Jen was to take Riesa to the nursery and rendevous with Meg and Noelle. I was on parking duty.
By the time I got to the balcony the girls had already discovered that there were no seats available in our usual spot. They saw some empty seats on the other side of the balcony and rushed around to that side only to find "reserved for brass" on the bench. When I got to them we all stood there wondering what to do as the service was under way, people were watching us uncomfortably and, I think, wishing we would just sit down so they could pay attention to the service.
Finally an usher came by and told us just to sit in the "reserved" area. "It will be fine, there should be enough room for you." he said. So we squished in as far as we could to give the brass whatever room we could, not knowing what to expect exactly.
The choir was beautiful, the brass played some majestic praise, very classical and proper kind of service. I should say that we generally go to the last service which is more contemporary, laid back and very not formal. So, this service is a little out of our comfort zone anyway. We sensed a collective sigh from those around us when we finally settled in a bit.
Still we are not a quiet bunch. I think Noelle dropped her shoes a couple times which fell with a THUD that seemed to echo to all those below. There were things going on that the girls were unfamiliar with and as good home school kids, when they don't understand something they are not afraid to ask. The problem is that they don't know how to whisper so they asked full voiced and unashamed. This not only disturbed those around us further but also revealed to them that we must never take our kids to church either.
After a bit, the brass section began to disband from their spots and they reappeared to the side of our pew with smiles on their faces. At first they seemed to think we might be ok, then they realized that there was no way the French horns were going to fit there with us. So we evacuated our pew and allowed them to sit. This left us standing in the aisle of the balcony back with the uncomfortable looks from those who got to the service on time.
I didn't know how long the brass folks were going to need our pew, I supposed that it might be for the rest of the service and rather than stand in the aisle, perhaps it would be better just to sit on the stairs. Now these stairs lead directly down to the sanctuary. The sanctuary is a quarter round so from where we sat we were basically facing those on the other side of the church. This wasn't a problem as long as we just sat still, I was sure people would begin to ignore us and turn their attention where it should be.
After the horns played, the pastor got up and said it was time for prayer. As the congregation stood, we stood along with them, again sticking out rather like sore thumbs. There was a quiet moment, very brief, perhaps only a second, after the congregation stood but before pastor started to pray. It was that kind of reverent silence of a people who are collectively preparing their hearts to go before the Lord. That's when I saw a glimmer at my feet.
It was my coffee cup. It shone in the light of the sanctuary as it tipped over on the step. Then it rolled in slow motion and I heard a scream in my head that said "NNnnnooooooooooooooooo"! I thought for a moment about making a diving save but then it reached the end of that first step and "THUD" hit the next step. I thought God would have mercy on me and it would stop after one step but much to my chagrin and dismay it only picked up momentum and flew off that step, missed the next one and began to spin from step to step all the way to the sanctuary floor. Now, this is not the service that people bring coffee cups into so I was already breaching protocol. Now everyone was looking at my family on the steps wondering what the heck we were doing. Then my coffee cup appeared at the bottom of the steps as if to say "Hey everyone, look at the irreverent doofus on the steps."
I am still somewhat surprised that they didn't send someone over to us and request us to go home.
Well, after prayer, the brass section left and we were able to go back to the seats. At communion time we went down the back steps and noticed the overflow room where everyone else who arrived late had gone. We had no idea there was an overflow room. We must have looked like pushy people who refused to be considered "overflow". Thus, I blame this whole fiasco squarely on the usher who first told us "I think you'll be fine." I know he's redeemed but when he arrives at the Judgment seat of Christ I hope He will play this little episode for him so that he can repent specifically.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Kad and the Missing Wings, chapter two
Since the wings were gone, they went into the forest that the red oak tree lived in. The journey through the forest was pretty uneventful, so we'll skip that part. But when they got through the forest they came to a field in which unicorns graze.
Kad found his good friend Unyqua the wise unicorn.
"Have you seen Quel's wings Unyqua?" Kad said.
"Hmm, yes, they went that way." Unyqua said, pointing her horn toward a river. "Would you like a ride to the river Quel? I see you were the one who lost your wings." Unyqua said.
"Oh would you? I would love that!" Quel said.
In a jiffy they were to the river.
Kad found his good friend Unyqua the wise unicorn.
"Have you seen Quel's wings Unyqua?" Kad said.
"Hmm, yes, they went that way." Unyqua said, pointing her horn toward a river. "Would you like a ride to the river Quel? I see you were the one who lost your wings." Unyqua said.
"Oh would you? I would love that!" Quel said.
In a jiffy they were to the river.
Kad and the Missing Wings - By Megan Brukiewa
Now Kad is a blue dragon, only about three years old, in a world of fantasy and wonders with mermaids and fairies, with unicorns and adventure.
Kad And The Missing Wings
One morning Kad was taking his morning walk, thinking about what he was going to do that day. “Is that a pair of wings floating by?” he thought. “It can’t be, I must be daydreaming.” He kept walking when he ran right into little Miss Quell’s house, which was a mushroom with a flower stem for a chimney.
Miss Quell is a fairy with a very big sweet tooth.
So Quell opened the door and said “Hello, have you seen my wings? I was trying a sweeeeeeet snack for a gardening party I had planned and it was so sweet that my wings jumped off and flew away. Anyway, have you seen them?”
“Did you put extra sugar in the recipe?” said Kad.
“Well, yes. But that’s not important.” She answered.
“Yes I did see your wings I think. Back down the path I walked past them.” Said Kad.
“Where?” She said.
“By the red oak tree.” Kad replied.
“Then let’s go!” She said.
And they were gone. In a few seconds they found the red oak tree but the wings weren’t there.
Kad And The Missing Wings
One morning Kad was taking his morning walk, thinking about what he was going to do that day. “Is that a pair of wings floating by?” he thought. “It can’t be, I must be daydreaming.” He kept walking when he ran right into little Miss Quell’s house, which was a mushroom with a flower stem for a chimney.
Miss Quell is a fairy with a very big sweet tooth.
So Quell opened the door and said “Hello, have you seen my wings? I was trying a sweeeeeeet snack for a gardening party I had planned and it was so sweet that my wings jumped off and flew away. Anyway, have you seen them?”
“Did you put extra sugar in the recipe?” said Kad.
“Well, yes. But that’s not important.” She answered.
“Yes I did see your wings I think. Back down the path I walked past them.” Said Kad.
“Where?” She said.
“By the red oak tree.” Kad replied.
“Then let’s go!” She said.
And they were gone. In a few seconds they found the red oak tree but the wings weren’t there.
Friday, March 20, 2009
Offerings - Jennifer Brukiewa
Celery shade, soft and pale
Laces the willow, a feathery veil
Her offering for spring
Lilacs longing our spirits to please
With aromatics sweet release
Her offering for spring
Chives have risen, thyme is greening
Herbs which flavor life are bringing
Their offering for spring
Within the rose cane flows a river
Sustaining fluid stirs to give
Her offering for spring
Surrounded by the Resurrection
beckoning our heart's reflection
The Offering of Spring
Delphiniums - By Megan Brukiewa
Oh Delphiniums won't you please
Come on out and rest with me
In Spring instead of Summer light?
Tuesday, March 3, 2009
When God Asks...
I never go to Sunday School.
But, this past Sunday as I was looking for a quiet place to sit and read I passed by the Sunday School classroom and heard our pastor’s voice. I decided to sneak in because I respect him and thought it might be good.
Part of the discussion was centered on Genesis 22, the story of Abraham and Isaac going to Mt. Moriah where Isaac was to be sacrificed. I’ve never understood this story, never liked it and because of that I generally give it a cursory read, jump to the ending with the ram in the thicket, think happy thoughts about Jesus and move on. But many non-Christians and even Christians asked me about this when I was a pastor and I was stumped. I’d put them off by trying to get them to sidestep to the ram like I did. “See, God didn’t let Abraham go through with it, He provided the ram so it’s all good and Jesus loves you.”
But it was not all good. The issue is that God actually did command Abraham to kill his son. Isaac, a human being, was to be sacrificed and this was at the command of the same God that I want to believe is gracious, loving, kind etc. Not to mention that Isaac is the fulfillment of the promise God made to Abraham to multiply his descendents. So God seems to be going counter to all that He is. He is breaking His promise, His own covenant. It doesn’t matter that the story has a happy ending; God still creates this situation where Abraham is wrestling with His command for three days.
I see this as a different category than Job’s suffering. At least with Job I can look at it and see that God didn’t “cause” the suffering he went through. God withdrew His hand of protection or blessing for a time and Satan had a field day with Job. I don’t like that but there’s no rule that says God has to always protect and bless so I’m ok with the story being in my Bible. Genesis 22 on the other hand doesn’t seem to fit. I literally wanted to take a sharpie and black out the story. It seems to show a God who’s character is at least flawed if not entirely cruel.
I talked to Pastor Doug after class about my struggles. Verse one says that God was “testing” Abraham, Abraham shows that he is faithful and God reaffirms the covenant. Ok, I’m good with that understanding of Ancient Near East Covenant reaffirmation. But I can’t get past the fact that God still commands this horrible, outrageous thing. I told Doug that at least on the surface it looks like this is simply a passage about cutting the feelings out of our obedience, just do what God says, don’t ask questions, it’s not personal, just do it. Obey regardless the cost. If that’s the point of the story then the cost here is much more than Isaac’s life. The cost is my belief in a God who loves. The cost is that I now must believe in a God who may test me even at risk to His very character, or at least the character that I think He has.
As I wrestled with this it was time for the worship service so I joined my family in our balcony seat. I found myself not willing to sing any of the songs until I read each word to be sure I agreed. And then I sort of sang them with reluctance; out of the side of my mouth. I found myself asking and being skeptical about each line. “God, are you loving? Are you kind? Do you care about me? Did you really care about Isaac?” The end still did not justify the means.
Finally I let myself express to God what was really in my heart. “God, I’m angry that You did this. Not just angry, I’m outraged. You went against Your own character, Your Law! You damaged Abraham, probably scarred Isaac for life and probably have driven countless seekers away from You as they get to this story in the Bible. God! I hate this story!”
I don’t remember what the sermon was about because this conversation or tirade was going on in my head the whole time. I was letting God have a piece of my mind.
Then I heard God ask me a question.
In the midst of my outrage, when it reached it’s pinnacle He said to me “David. You are outraged that I have done this, that’s good. It’s an outrageous command. You are angry with me that I would put Abraham through this even though in the end I stopped the knife and spared Isaac. You see this as a great scandal and it is.” And in my heart I began to scream all the louder “GOD! If that’s true then WHY!!!?” And He answered my question with one of His own “Where is your outrage at My sacrifice? I did not withhold the knife from My own Son. I did not wrestle for three days with the possibility of losing My Son, I actually lost Him for three days! Where is your outrage? Why do you not see that scandal?”
I had put myself into the story as Abraham and so I couldn’t understand it. But I’m not Abraham, I’m Isaac. But in the story Isaac is innocent, I’m not. In the story it’s just a ram. An animal sacrifice for a human life is a good trade (PETA might disagree but I’ll take that anyday). The reality is that the ram is Christ. Righteous sacrificed for unrighteous. Innocent given over for the guilty. How could I be so outraged at this story and not at the much greater scandal of the Gospel? How have I taken the Gospel for granted, simply as part of the character of God. I have treated the Gospel like my mother saying “I love you”. She’s supposed to say that. God is supposed to do this.
But my reaction to the Gospel on Sunday became “My God! What have You done!”
And then it was time for communion.
I suppose what is important to me is the Gospel. Not the trite motherly “I love you” but the real Gospel. I so want to be taken deeper by it, and I want others to be drawn deeper too. The cross has become a cultural icon so that people wear it as though it’s a pretty ornament, jewelry to accessorize my outfit. Christians put fish or crosses on their business cards as if to say “if you’re a Christian you have to deal with me because I’m a Christian too”. Preachers talk about the Gospel in context of an altar call as though we need cleansing to “get in” but then they quickly hand us a list of distracting things that make us forget the cross.
The Gospel is the air I breathe. Anything less smothers me. Anything mixed in poisons me. I received a full dose on Sunday and it has changed me again. I can’t go back.
But, this past Sunday as I was looking for a quiet place to sit and read I passed by the Sunday School classroom and heard our pastor’s voice. I decided to sneak in because I respect him and thought it might be good.
Part of the discussion was centered on Genesis 22, the story of Abraham and Isaac going to Mt. Moriah where Isaac was to be sacrificed. I’ve never understood this story, never liked it and because of that I generally give it a cursory read, jump to the ending with the ram in the thicket, think happy thoughts about Jesus and move on. But many non-Christians and even Christians asked me about this when I was a pastor and I was stumped. I’d put them off by trying to get them to sidestep to the ram like I did. “See, God didn’t let Abraham go through with it, He provided the ram so it’s all good and Jesus loves you.”
But it was not all good. The issue is that God actually did command Abraham to kill his son. Isaac, a human being, was to be sacrificed and this was at the command of the same God that I want to believe is gracious, loving, kind etc. Not to mention that Isaac is the fulfillment of the promise God made to Abraham to multiply his descendents. So God seems to be going counter to all that He is. He is breaking His promise, His own covenant. It doesn’t matter that the story has a happy ending; God still creates this situation where Abraham is wrestling with His command for three days.
I see this as a different category than Job’s suffering. At least with Job I can look at it and see that God didn’t “cause” the suffering he went through. God withdrew His hand of protection or blessing for a time and Satan had a field day with Job. I don’t like that but there’s no rule that says God has to always protect and bless so I’m ok with the story being in my Bible. Genesis 22 on the other hand doesn’t seem to fit. I literally wanted to take a sharpie and black out the story. It seems to show a God who’s character is at least flawed if not entirely cruel.
I talked to Pastor Doug after class about my struggles. Verse one says that God was “testing” Abraham, Abraham shows that he is faithful and God reaffirms the covenant. Ok, I’m good with that understanding of Ancient Near East Covenant reaffirmation. But I can’t get past the fact that God still commands this horrible, outrageous thing. I told Doug that at least on the surface it looks like this is simply a passage about cutting the feelings out of our obedience, just do what God says, don’t ask questions, it’s not personal, just do it. Obey regardless the cost. If that’s the point of the story then the cost here is much more than Isaac’s life. The cost is my belief in a God who loves. The cost is that I now must believe in a God who may test me even at risk to His very character, or at least the character that I think He has.
As I wrestled with this it was time for the worship service so I joined my family in our balcony seat. I found myself not willing to sing any of the songs until I read each word to be sure I agreed. And then I sort of sang them with reluctance; out of the side of my mouth. I found myself asking and being skeptical about each line. “God, are you loving? Are you kind? Do you care about me? Did you really care about Isaac?” The end still did not justify the means.
Finally I let myself express to God what was really in my heart. “God, I’m angry that You did this. Not just angry, I’m outraged. You went against Your own character, Your Law! You damaged Abraham, probably scarred Isaac for life and probably have driven countless seekers away from You as they get to this story in the Bible. God! I hate this story!”
I don’t remember what the sermon was about because this conversation or tirade was going on in my head the whole time. I was letting God have a piece of my mind.
Then I heard God ask me a question.
In the midst of my outrage, when it reached it’s pinnacle He said to me “David. You are outraged that I have done this, that’s good. It’s an outrageous command. You are angry with me that I would put Abraham through this even though in the end I stopped the knife and spared Isaac. You see this as a great scandal and it is.” And in my heart I began to scream all the louder “GOD! If that’s true then WHY!!!?” And He answered my question with one of His own “Where is your outrage at My sacrifice? I did not withhold the knife from My own Son. I did not wrestle for three days with the possibility of losing My Son, I actually lost Him for three days! Where is your outrage? Why do you not see that scandal?”
I had put myself into the story as Abraham and so I couldn’t understand it. But I’m not Abraham, I’m Isaac. But in the story Isaac is innocent, I’m not. In the story it’s just a ram. An animal sacrifice for a human life is a good trade (PETA might disagree but I’ll take that anyday). The reality is that the ram is Christ. Righteous sacrificed for unrighteous. Innocent given over for the guilty. How could I be so outraged at this story and not at the much greater scandal of the Gospel? How have I taken the Gospel for granted, simply as part of the character of God. I have treated the Gospel like my mother saying “I love you”. She’s supposed to say that. God is supposed to do this.
But my reaction to the Gospel on Sunday became “My God! What have You done!”
And then it was time for communion.
I suppose what is important to me is the Gospel. Not the trite motherly “I love you” but the real Gospel. I so want to be taken deeper by it, and I want others to be drawn deeper too. The cross has become a cultural icon so that people wear it as though it’s a pretty ornament, jewelry to accessorize my outfit. Christians put fish or crosses on their business cards as if to say “if you’re a Christian you have to deal with me because I’m a Christian too”. Preachers talk about the Gospel in context of an altar call as though we need cleansing to “get in” but then they quickly hand us a list of distracting things that make us forget the cross.
The Gospel is the air I breathe. Anything less smothers me. Anything mixed in poisons me. I received a full dose on Sunday and it has changed me again. I can’t go back.
Friday, November 7, 2008
Pleasing To God
1 Timothy 2:1-3
Paul starts with a "therefore" that goes back to the previous chapter where the real battle is not against rulers in the world but against false doctrines. And these doctrines being taught by teachers who "don't know what they are talking about or what they so confidently affirm." So even the false teachers are not the "enemy" it's the wrong teachings. Paul writes to Timothy with the purpose of uniting the church in love, correcting the false doctrines and urging the church to live in peace.
Today my prayer is for Barack Obama, that God might grant him wisdom to lead through these very difficult times. My prayer is that God will direct his steps away from foolish ideas and away from foolish advisors. I pray that he will be surrounded not only by men and women who uphold righteousness but also by the Holy Spirit. And I pray for our country to continue to be used by God as an agent of justice in the world. More than that, I pray that we will see a new day of peace soon.
Lord may President Obama be tough when the situation calls for it. May he be decisive when necessary. And make him humble and merciful when it is possible.
Paul starts with a "therefore" that goes back to the previous chapter where the real battle is not against rulers in the world but against false doctrines. And these doctrines being taught by teachers who "don't know what they are talking about or what they so confidently affirm." So even the false teachers are not the "enemy" it's the wrong teachings. Paul writes to Timothy with the purpose of uniting the church in love, correcting the false doctrines and urging the church to live in peace.
Today my prayer is for Barack Obama, that God might grant him wisdom to lead through these very difficult times. My prayer is that God will direct his steps away from foolish ideas and away from foolish advisors. I pray that he will be surrounded not only by men and women who uphold righteousness but also by the Holy Spirit. And I pray for our country to continue to be used by God as an agent of justice in the world. More than that, I pray that we will see a new day of peace soon.
Lord may President Obama be tough when the situation calls for it. May he be decisive when necessary. And make him humble and merciful when it is possible.
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Cynicism or Realism?
I had the marvelous opportunity of spending time with one of my mentors and friends today for lunch. Ed Chinn (www.edchinn.com) called me this morning to say he was in town.
Ed is one of those people who speaks perspective into my life like few others. He laughs in the face of world events, not because he doesn't care about them but because God laughs and he has God's perspective. And he seems to have a faith that implicitly knows God is in control whereas mine seems to be captive to the whims of circumstance.
Ed isn't a cynic but one of the things he said today had to do with the reality that institutions that rise up to battle injustice will always end up depending on the continuation of the very injustice they fight. For example, the American Cancer Society depends on the fact that cancer continues to be pervasive. Should cancer be defeated, the ACS would cease to have a purpose.
Now, that's not to say that fighting cancer is not a noble cause or that anyone in dark smoke filled rooms at ACS headquarters is secretly funding the disease, but expand this to other realms and you find a troubling truism.
I'll start with one of my own causes. The fight against abortion. I believe babies have a right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness guaranteed under our constitution. More than that, I believe that babies are made in the image of God and as such ought not to be killed for the pleasure of a more comfortable life for a mother or father. I understand that there are (few and far between) times when the life of a mother may be at stake and diffitult choices need to be made. Still, the comfort of a young mother or her parents seem to result in far too many babies being killed in this nation. And our recently elected president calls babies a "punishment". Just so we're clear, I'm against abortion.
But Ed made a brilliant point when he called out the fact that so many Christians consider voting for a Democrat to be anathema because of this one issue. The fact is that since Roe V. Wade was decided we've had 25 years of Republican presidents who have done little or nothing about this issue. So, why do we consider Republicans to hold any kind of moral superiority on this? As Ed said "The dirtly little secret is that Republicans need the abortion issue to solidify the base voters." That means that if abortion went away, what issue would Republicans easily be able to use?
On the Democrat side, Democrats need the poor to continue being poor. For over 40 years the Dems have been fighting the "war on poverty" and it frankly isn't being won. When there are poor neighborhoods, it's easy for a politician to go there and stir up the base with promises.
In the same way the Rainbow/Push coalition needs racism to continue in America. The NRA needs anti-gun legislators. Labor unions need "stingy" bosses. Fundamentalists need immorality.
I have yet to hear of a charter for an organization that includes a clause giving the conditions whereby that organization will no longer be necessary.
When this little piece of realism hits home I begin to see how organizations may rise up to fight a good fight against an immoral or unjust foe, but be a little careful. Don't get swallowed up and taken in as the power brokers will do what needs to be done to maintain their power.
Ed is one of those people who speaks perspective into my life like few others. He laughs in the face of world events, not because he doesn't care about them but because God laughs and he has God's perspective. And he seems to have a faith that implicitly knows God is in control whereas mine seems to be captive to the whims of circumstance.
Ed isn't a cynic but one of the things he said today had to do with the reality that institutions that rise up to battle injustice will always end up depending on the continuation of the very injustice they fight. For example, the American Cancer Society depends on the fact that cancer continues to be pervasive. Should cancer be defeated, the ACS would cease to have a purpose.
Now, that's not to say that fighting cancer is not a noble cause or that anyone in dark smoke filled rooms at ACS headquarters is secretly funding the disease, but expand this to other realms and you find a troubling truism.
I'll start with one of my own causes. The fight against abortion. I believe babies have a right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness guaranteed under our constitution. More than that, I believe that babies are made in the image of God and as such ought not to be killed for the pleasure of a more comfortable life for a mother or father. I understand that there are (few and far between) times when the life of a mother may be at stake and diffitult choices need to be made. Still, the comfort of a young mother or her parents seem to result in far too many babies being killed in this nation. And our recently elected president calls babies a "punishment". Just so we're clear, I'm against abortion.
But Ed made a brilliant point when he called out the fact that so many Christians consider voting for a Democrat to be anathema because of this one issue. The fact is that since Roe V. Wade was decided we've had 25 years of Republican presidents who have done little or nothing about this issue. So, why do we consider Republicans to hold any kind of moral superiority on this? As Ed said "The dirtly little secret is that Republicans need the abortion issue to solidify the base voters." That means that if abortion went away, what issue would Republicans easily be able to use?
On the Democrat side, Democrats need the poor to continue being poor. For over 40 years the Dems have been fighting the "war on poverty" and it frankly isn't being won. When there are poor neighborhoods, it's easy for a politician to go there and stir up the base with promises.
In the same way the Rainbow/Push coalition needs racism to continue in America. The NRA needs anti-gun legislators. Labor unions need "stingy" bosses. Fundamentalists need immorality.
I have yet to hear of a charter for an organization that includes a clause giving the conditions whereby that organization will no longer be necessary.
When this little piece of realism hits home I begin to see how organizations may rise up to fight a good fight against an immoral or unjust foe, but be a little careful. Don't get swallowed up and taken in as the power brokers will do what needs to be done to maintain their power.
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