An Amazing Man

In 1934, a man named Michael King went to Germany to visit various historical and religious sites.  A God-fearing man by nature and part of the Baptist church in the south, Michael was none the less enraptured by the work of Luther, the amazing German reformer, who spoke of a freedom that Michael, and his wife Alberta, rarely witnessed.  So, moved by Luther's witness to the world, Michael King legally changed his name to the reformers and became Martin Luther King, Sr.

His son, Michael, Jr., his namesake, would also change his name to Martin Luther King, Jr.

There are many facts that I've come across this week as I peered into a life that seemed to have been touched by Elisha's bones; the skeleton encased by a cave where the dead, after coming into contact with the bones, came to life.

King attended Booker T. High School, where he was said to be a precocious student. He skipped both the ninth and eleventh grades, and entered Morehouse College in Atlanta at age 15, in 1944. He was a popular student, especially with his female classmates, but an unmotivated student who floated though his first two years. Although his family was deeply involved in the church and worship, young Martin questioned religion in general and felt uncomfortable with overly emotional displays of religious worship. This discomfort continued through much of his adolescence, initially leading him to decide against entering the ministry, much to his father's dismay. But in his junior year, Martin took a Bible class, renewed his faith and began to envision a career in the ministry. In the fall of his senior year, he told his father of his decision.  (From Biography.com)

Most people do not know that Martin Luther King, Jr. had, in the beginning, deep questions about faith and religion.  His search for God and spirituality was a true quest; the grail of his father's faith seemed to be out of reach and strangely, his father did not want him to enter the ministry.  Perhaps this was due to the fact that those who are questioning faith don't necessarily find it in the day to day grind of taking care of the spiritual lives of others - sometimes it is quite the opposite.  But young Martin encountered his faith in the place where the Living Word becomes living faith.  In the Bible.

In the book Finding God, a Treasury of Conversion Stories, the editor relates the impact that the Word of God had on Martin Luther King, Jr.'s life and in its use and reflection, his last public words ring with tremendous praise and prophecy:

I don't know what will happen now.  We've got some difficult days ahead.  But it doesn't matter now, because I've seen the mountaintop.  And I don't mind.  Like anybody, I would like to live a long life.  Longevity has its place, but I'm not concerned about that now.  I just want to do God's will and he's allowed me to go up to the mountain.  And I've looked over and I've seen the Promised Land.  I may not get there with you, but I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land and I'm happy, tonight.  I'm not worried about anything.  I'm not fearing any man.  Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord!

Hours later, he was felled by the assassin's bullet.

How do the scriptures turn us?  How do they make a difference and convert us from disbelief to belief?  How do we find the words, like the desperate father who can't find his faith, 'Help my unbelief?'  

This world is desperate for a new spirit of peace and patience, joy and encouragement, hope and faith.  To see beyond the mountain of the world's discontent and view the Promised Land of which God assures us, is of utmost importance.

As Martin Luther King, Jr. sensed a convergence of faith and life through his own conversion to faith in the Way, Truth and Life, so we too can read through the scriptures, alone, but especially with believers, to see how a life a freedom is incredibly transformative for a community and individual.  

Read through the Gospel of Mark this week, or the book of Philippians.  Ask some questions about faith and life and I pray that God gives you eyes to see.

Dem Bones

In my morning devotions last week, I came across a section of 2 Kings that I don't remember reading before.  Granted, as I read through the Bible again, the wilderness that begins in Number and continues through Chronicles is difficult for me, but how did I miss this?

Elisha received the mantle of prophecy from Elijah when he, Elijah, was drawn by chariots of fire to be with God in heaven.  In his journeys to this point, he's already done some interesting things including calling bears from the forest to attack a group of precocious youths who had found great humor in Elisha's shiny dome of baldness.

Nearing the end of his life, Elisha is suffering from a sickness which will eventually take his life and Jehoash, the king of Israel at the time who 'did evil in the eyes of the LORD and did not turn away from (sin)...' (2 Kings 13:11) comes to visit him and weep over him because, it seems, that if Elisha leaves, the nation will be overrun with Arameans.  He fears for his rule, his control and his power over the people - perhaps even losing Elisha's buffering to God's wrath.

So, on his deathbed, Elisha tells Jehoash to strike the ground with some arrows.  Jehoash strikes it three times and Elisha, even in his weakened state, becomes apoplectic with the king's own weakness.  "You should have struck the ground five or six times; then you would have defeated Aram and completely destroyed it.  But now you will defeat it only three times." (2 Kings 13:19)

I read this passage and I kind of think to myself, "How was Jehoash supposed to know that he was to strike the ground multiple times.  Even the invitation to whack the ground once seems odd, but five or six?  Come on, Elisha."

But Elisha's last words are full of anger and bitterness.  He is frustrated, as I read it, that this king under his watch has continued in sin just like the last kings (except for his grandfather Joash.)  Perhaps Elisha felt that his life's work was a failure, that somehow these thick-headed kings couldn't trust and depend on God like they ought.  Perhaps he was frustrated that even in the midst of being able to see the mighty hand of God over the people, the nation kept turning back to idols because of their power-addicted kings.

The next verse after his anger is released against Jehoash?  Elisha died and was buried.  (2 Kings 13:20)

What a way to die, with bitterness and anger.

But then there is this strange story juxtaposed into the narrative.  It has nothing to do with the line of broken kings, only a convenient way to salvage the character of the Prophet Elijah and his place in the line of prophets of Israel.

Now Moabite raiders used to enter the country every spring.  Once while some Israelites were burying a man, suddenly they saw a band of raiders; so they threw the man's body into Elijah's tomb.  When the body touched Elisha's bones, the man came to life and stood up on his feet.  (2 Kings 13:20b, 21)

If I understand this correctly, some Israelites were going to bury a dead man, I don't know why they didn't have a plot picked out already, and because of the raiders (not of the Lost Ark), they unceremoniously dumped his body in a preoccupied tomb - Elisha's - and when this dead man came into contact with the long-dead prophet's bones, he was given new life!

This makes me ask the question: if Elisha's bones could bring people back to life, why wasn't this tomb the most popular in all of Israel?  Shouldn't there have been a long line of mourners carrying their loved ones preparing to grab a femur and bring joy back to the house?

I don't know the answer to that one, but miraculous things happen when we encounter people who are driven by God in faith.  The bones of the saints seem to radiate life and hope to all the people they encounter.

What are the dark places in your life that seem to a place of death?  Who are the people in your life that seem to be dropping you off in caves of the dead?  Who are the people in your proximity that bring new life to you? 

This week, seek out the people who you appreciate and in connecting with them, thank them for their faithfulness.  Alternatively, think about the people the bring you down and drop you off alone.  How can you either talk to them about this or find ways of allowing them to find paths apart from you.  (Is that a nice way of putting it?)

Have an excellent day of finding dem bones.

In the next couple of days, I want to tell you a story about a faithful prophet from the 21st century who brought life to many people.

Unbelievable

John 9:35-41

35 Jesus heard that they had thrown him out (the blind man) and when he found him, he said, 'Do you believe in the Son of Man?'

36 'Who is he, sir?' the man asked.  'Tell me so that I may believe in him.'

37 Jesus said, 'You have no seen him; in fact, he is the one speaking with you.'

38 Then, the man said, 'Lord, I believe,' and he worshipped him.

39 Jesus said, 'For judgment I have come into the this world (or cosmos, in Greek - universe), so that the blind will see and those who see will become blind.'

40 Some Pharisees who were with him heard him say this and asked, 'What? Are we blind too?'

41 Jesus said, 'If you were blind, you would not be guilty of sin; but now that you claim you can see, your guilt remains.'

I came across this episode in my devotions this morning, and I wondered if there are any more difficult passages in John.  Here are the difficulties:

1.  Jesus healed this man on the Sabbath, which was a great difficulty for the Pharisees who would preach to Jesus not heeding 'God's word.'  There is a tasty irony with this.

2.  The blind man has been thrown out of the presence of the religiocracy for presuming to 'lecture' the Pharisees about theology.  (9:30-33)  His new found 'sight' has given him courage.

3.  Vs. 38 is not in some early manuscripts.

4.  Vs. 39 is very confusing from the original language, and beautiful at the same time.  A better way of translating (in my opinion) would be ... 'so that those who can't understand will understand, and those that think they understand will become blind to understanding.'

5.  What are the Pharisees blind to?

6.  This is a great twist of phrasing by Jesus: If you were physically blind, you would not be guilty because you wouldn't have seen me.  But because you claim that you understand, your sin sticks with you.

Let's give these difficulties a shot.  I am no master at Greek, but the text speaks so well to us when we use it in this passage.

Much of the difficulty that comes from understanding the Pharisees is that we don't have a Christian group like them in the 21st century.  Or do we?  The Pharisees believe in rigid, fundamentalist reading of scriptures and of course their own interpretations.  In order to be in a right relationship with God, every jot and tittle must be followed.  There were so many idiosyncrasies, that no one in their right (or wrong) mind would be able to memorize and follow them unless they simply ceased to live.  Because Jesus healed this person on the Sabbath, one of the most pre-scripted commandments given, he was considered guilty of breaking the commandment.  Unbeknownst to the unbelievers, the Word of God was accused of not fulfilling the written word.  At the end of the previous chapter, Jesus, after claiming to be part of the creation process before Abraham, is given a death sentence and stones are picked up.  Pharisees are always trying to kill Jesus.

There are certain groups of 21st century Christian Pharisees who are so incredibly bent on following the rules, they actually miss the point of their own religion.  You've probably heard these before:  "Make sure you stay 'pure' before marriage, because if not..."  "Make sure that you tithe to the church, because if you do not, you are making an idol out of money, and then..."  "Make sure that you respect your elders, go to church on Sunday, don't kill unless you are in the blessed-by-God military; no stealing, lying, coveting - because if you do, you'll go to..."

Heaven's sakes.  It's no wonder Jesus gets frustrated with most of religiocracy and offends them time and time again for their spiritual blindness.  It's not as if the commandments are a bad thing - quite the opposite actually, they are the perfect tool for understanding life in relationship with God and community - but they have no use in truly seeing (understanding) what God is all about.  When Jesus heals the blind man on the Sabbath, it is in response to the blindness of the disciples who still believe that physical ailments are punishments by God on an unbelieving world.  "No," Jesus responds, "Neither this man nor his parents sinned but this happened so that the works of God might be displayed in him!'  (John 9:3)

The blindness, our true lack of vision in life for God, is only removed by an encounter with Jesus, not an interview with the Law.  The love and mercy of God in Christ Jesus stands in stark contrast with the unforgiveness and dis-grace that the Law can bring, and when the man who was once blind asks the truth to be revealed, Jesus responds, 'That day is here.  You have seen him and recognize him - right here, right now in front of you - before your eyes!"

How difficult that is for Pharisees.  To have their whole world of power, privilege and prestige crumble before them by the words of the visible Son of Man! Is it not the same for us? Inside all believers is an inner Do-It-Yourself-Christian that sits like a tiny gold idol in the shape of ourselves near the throne of our hearts.  It is painful to give all power and dominion to God - to believe and worship, right then and there.  When we encounter Jesus and his word, we are released from our spiritual blindness!  And we see and understand!

This scripture is so much less about the man-who-was-once-blind (especially if you read it in some of the early manuscripts where vs. 38 is not there) and so much more about the walking Word of God standing in the midst and confronting all of our unbelief that keeps us blind.  And we still hold desperately to that blindness because it seems so much easier to try to keep the Law than to hand the Law back to God.

Now that we have understood, it's time to give up our spiritual blindness.  In the midst of spiritual sight, new, hesitant steps can be made going forward.  It's almost like learning to walk again. Once you have your sight, everything changes.

God bless you as you believe and worship the one who brings sight back to the world!

Put That Away

As parents, we've all been there.  As children, we've all done that.  As humans...

I guess there's a part of us that always likes to be distracted.  The present moment in which we live can, at times, seem droll, or routine - dull enough to want to be somewhere else.  When Gen Xers were entering our 'boring years' (simply the years when all teenagers exclaim 'I'm bored...' when they haven't been stimulated for eleven seconds) we turned to video games like Atari or Nintendo with various games like Pong and Asteroids.  Amazingly, we'd play for a little while and then turn it off because, frankly, shooting spinning rocks in dual color on an old Zenith TV was not really that much different than being bored in real life.

Each successive generation of teens has their own escape from the tedium of life.  I won't expound on the ways we deviate from the real to the unreal, but in the last ten years or so, the obvious method of escape is through handheld devices.  Some people, teenagers and older people included, are incapable of being without this digital security blanket.  So much so that putting them down for even a few moments might cause an existential crisis of life.  We've learned to live somewhere else.  Our energy has been focused not on being present but being distant.  When we ride public transportation, silence reigns because wifi has filled our ears as the headphones go in.

After dutifully neglecting the chores at hand, it's almost like my mom used to shout down the basement steps, "Put that thing away!"  Enough blasting away at two dimensional spinning rocks and enter the real world where people are waiting to be part of your life AND where your chores need to get done.

If you are anything like me, I get snared by the stories and the actions of Jesus and neglect the narratives of his heritage.  For instance, this story came through in our staff Bible study they other day.  In 2 Samuel 4-6, Israel's comeuppance occurs when their arrogance precedes them in battle.  Because they'd been losing to the Philistines, they decided to bring the ark out because they know that God's glory rests within.  Thus their thinking:  we'll just 'use God' to show those filthy Philistines a thing or two about our God.  Unfortunately, we find out that the Israelites haven't been exactly faithful to their God - they've got their own false gods in their tents, Baals and Ashtoreths, household gods (foreign gods) of power and sexuality.  The people are really in no position to expect anything from the true God because they have turned away.

And the unthinkable happens.  Unlike Indiana Jones' assessment of the Lost Ark of the Covenant, the army which carries the ark is not invincible, and the Israelites find that out first hand.  The Philistines capture the ark.

As the story goes, the ark is taken back to Ashdod (Philistine city) and placed in their own temple at the foot of their god, Dagon, who, during the night, falls over because the power of God rests in the ark.  It's as if the false god is bowing down to the real God.  Anyway, various maladies occur to the Philistines and they eventually send it back to the Israelites who are quite thankful that God's power in the ark has returned.

Samuel, Israel's prophet and leader, had to speak to his people about their distraction - turning away from the God of the past, the future and especially the present.

Then all the people of Israel turned back to the Lord.  So Samuel said to all the Israelites, 'If you are returning to the Lord with all your hearts then rid yourselves of the foreign gods and the Ashtoreths and commit yourselves to the Lord and serve him only, and he will deliver you out of the hand of the Philistines.  So the Israelites put away their Baals and their Ashtoreths and served the Lord only.

Notice the wording.  Samuel told the Israelites to 'get rid of'' their foreign gods of power and sexuality (fertility) but the people 'put them away.'

There's a big difference.  As humans, we seem to always want to have the 'what if' power.  What if I really need that later?  What if that particular object seems to give me power over my insufficiencies?
Here's the other side: what if the distractions of life pull us so far away from reality, that we don't actually experience the true majesty of who God is?  Maybe this is the moment when we return to the Lord with all of our hearts and serve him.

I'm not suggesting that we throw away our Smartphones, or get rid of all technology; that's just plain stupid, but their is moment in every day where we can certainly pull our noses back to the present and live the life that God gives us, here and now; this time and place.

Good luck with getting rid of distraction!

It's Time

Winter, in Australia, should usually be written about in the context of quotation marks.  It's not as if I am a stronger person for surviving particularly difficult winters in the Midwest of the United States, but I hold back smirks when some of my neighbors complain about the 'freezing cold' of the South Australian 'winter' season.  Take today, for instance, the twenty-first of July - in essence, the very middle of 'winter.'  The sun is shining; it's a beautiful 18 degrees C. which is the equivalent of 64.4 degrees F. according to my online temperature translator.  I translate that as an amazingly gorgeous day.

And yet, I sit in my office typing with cold fingers, stocking cap affixed tightly to my head, sweatshirt and coat warming my body.  I can't seem to warm up and even the body fat that I've accumulated in the 'winter' seems to have no insulation properties.  Thus, I suffer from both the cold and being seasonably overweight.  I'm not going to find the ideal height to body fat translator for that one.

A few days ago, my eldest daughter, Elsa, after returning home from a trip to Cambodia with a team called Grow Ministries, wondered how cold I was.  Recently, our furnace had gone out in the house (we'd been without heat for a week) and I had stooped to using Greta's hot water bottle in the shape of a fuzzy blue bear, filling it with boiling water and placing it on the inside of my pocketed sweatshirt.  This is how the conversation went.

Elsa:  Dad, are you really that cold?
Me:  Yes, Elsa.  You've had the benefit of spending ten days in the tropics.  I, on the other hand, am freezing my hands off.
Elsa:  Getting weak in your old age?
Me:  So much better to hear from someone who shares the name of the Ice Queen.
Elsa:  (rolls her eyes.)  So what are you doing?
Me:  I'm warming my hands up.  (holding up the hot water bottle between my hands)
Elsa:  Oh, I see, did you fill the other one up and put it in your sweatshirt?
Me:  (looking down)  Uh, no, Elsa.  That's not a hot water bottle.  That's my stomach.  Thanks for noticing.
Elsa:  I didn't mean that... um...what I meant to say was...

It's time.

Time to once again go through the pain of hand to hand mortal combat with my shrinking metabolism which has withered with age.  The tire gaining tread around my middle needs wearing, but I know that with the tending comes effort and sweat and finding extra time in 'winter' when I'd rather be sitting on the sofa reading books and munching on tortilla chips.

As I reflect on the weight I've gained and the extra pressure I'm putting on joints, not to mention that I'm significantly slower running around the track, I also see the metaphor approaching me rapidly.

It's time to shed the extra weight of comfort that I have in my faith life.  It's time to start exercising my faith and putting it through the spiritual paces.  I've been trying to think of any biblical person who had a comfortable faith.  Moses. No.  David.  Not so much.  Esther.  Talk about a crisis of faith.  Prophets?  Give me a break.  And yet my own fallback position in life is to pray for comfort and ease.  Thus, both the breastplate of righteousness and the belt of truth need to be adjusted.

Last week, I was having coffee with a friend, and as we sat in the foyer of the shop ruminating about faith, life and other matters, the question of spiritual growth came up and in the midst of conversation, I tried to think back about the last time I did my devotions that did not involve preparing a sermon.  When was the last time I read the Bible with the lenses of spiritual training?  What has the Bible come to mean to me?

This week, in our fourth week on the Luther's Solas (Grace alone, faith alone, in Jesus Christ alone, scripture alone and glory of God alone), I tried to think of the perfect metaphor for what the written word of God is.  So often, we look at the Bible and have been trained to see it as a map, or a guidebook or at its worst, a self-help tome.  But the written word, which contains the living Word - Jesus Christ - is...

A forge.

It is the consuming fire which burns us alive and burns within us with purifying force the power for living a life worthy of Christ's name.  With all forges, the heat is increased by the bellows which push more and more air into the flame stoking it to consume and melt the hardest of substances.  But this forge needs more than one person, someone to pump the bellows, which is why we must continue to be in dialogue with others with regards to how we read and see the scriptures, or we will fall into the trap of, what William Willimon, Bishop of the Methodist Church says is, 'a dangerous, individualistic, personal reading of scriptures that uses only personal experience and ideas to validate their own opinions and ideas.'

This week, find another person to discuss with you this Bible verse from Hebrews 4:12 - For the word of God is alive and active.  Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.

Answer these questions together:

1.  Why does the author of Hebrews worry more about the sharpness of the word, rather than a description of the tool?

2.  What is the difference between soul and spirit?  Why does the word need to separate them/

3.  What are the thoughts and attitudes that are judged by the word of truth in the written scriptures.

Put yourselves through some spiritual training.

It's time.

Seeing the Future

Sunday morning worship was exciting.

When I was growing up, I don't think I would have ever written that sentence out loud.  It's not as if I didn't appreciate the congregation; they were completely amazing people, but there were times when Sunday mornings seemed tedious, like going to a necessary teeth cleaning at the dentist.  I already knew what was going to happen: we would chant the liturgy, the pastor would give a twelve-and-a-half minute sermon which would go through the same pattern of every other sermon ending with Jesus miraculously being raised from the dead to give us new life... Alleluia.  Someone old would read the scriptures.  We would sing a few hymns played gustily by an organist who had been there as long as anyone could remember, her white shoes sitting beside the organ, stocking feet rushing around the foot pedals.

And then my parents would talk for what seemed hours, while my brother and sisters and I would moan noisily like zombies wanting to go home to eat.

That is not the definition of Sunday morning excitement.

I loved that congregation - still do - but something happened this last weekend that I'll treasure for quite a while.  I think we can call it...

Seeing the future.

A lot has been said about the demise of Christianity in the West, and although Australia is one of the most secularized cultures in the world, I saw a glimpse of how God is moving us forward, out of the doldrums of strict traditionalism (but with theological steadiness) to a place where God meets us in a new way in worship.

On Sunday, the 10:30 service started in its normal procession; a crowd of people speaking before the service and an entire mass of humanity showing up fifteen minutes later after the announcements have gone by, but then I introduced our worship leaders for the day:

The de Wit family. 

Wynand and Marilene and their four children: Wian, Divan, Miane and Anmare, had prepared to lead all parts of the service.  I had met with them at their house twice to go through the service and they were ready, especially Wian and Divan who are about eight and six years old, and their sisters who are three and two.  The de Wit's are originally from South Africa and speak Afrikaans fluently.  As we visited their house, the two youngest girls would flit back and forth between Afrikaans and English.  It was fascinating to listen to, like being on the other end of an intercontinental telephone conversation.

With great aplomb, Marilene and Wynand spoke the call to worship, the confession and blessing; the boys read the lessons - Divan reading from his children's Bible.  Miane helped with the offering and it was a true blessing to the congregations for a three year old girl to lift the offering bowl up onto the altar, not as entertainment, but as a look into the disciples in our midst no matter their age.  Her small legs walked next to me to the altar and with a great big toothy grin, she pushed the heavy bowl up onto the edge.  Excitedly, she walked back down the steps to the congregation who was preparing for the Lord's Supper next.

The boys, Wian and Divan, were Communion attendants.  Each of them held onto the brass tray containing the wafers which I, and another member then distributed. 

Wian looked up to me between settings and through gapped teeth smiled at me and said, "Pastor Reid, I just have to let you know, I'm not that mad that my brother's plate is bigger than mine."  I almost started laughing out loud.

But then, as Wian served me the wafer from his own eight year old hand, he said, "This is the body of Christ given for you Pastor Reid."  He paused and added:  "I've never been this proud in my whole life...

I'm never going to stop sharing my faith."

The congregation didn't hear these words, but they have been tattooed onto my heart.  If only every young person in every congregation could feel valued enough by being engaged in all worship services to pronounce that their faith is an outflowing of their lives.  If only we, as church leaders, could see the small disciples in our midst who are desperate and longing to share whatever gifts they have to practice the faith.  Should we not be doing things like this every Sunday?

I have opened up the calendar for families to put their hands up on Sundays to lead worship - families of all flavours, one, two or three generations taking part in bringing Jesus to all of us. I'm already into September with volunteers.

What a vision for the future!

When in Athens...

There is a curious phenomenon, a fake-news item, for sure, about a species of animal that takes 'following the crowd' to a new level.  According to an article by the ABC, the myth of 'lemming suicide' actually derives not from an actual scientific study, but from an original rodent master himself, Walt Disney.

Here is what the author writes:

The myth of mass lemming suicide began when the Walt Disney movie, Wild Wilderness, was released in 1958. It was filmed in Alberta, Canada, far from the sea and not a native home to lemmings. So the filmmakers imported lemmings, by buying them from Inuit children. The migration sequence was filmed by placing the lemmings on a spinning turntable that was covered with snow, and then shooting it from many different angles. The cliff-death-plunge sequence was done by herding the lemmings over a small cliff into a river. It's easy to understand why the filmmakers did this - wild animals are notoriously uncooperative, and a migration-of-doom followed by a cliff-of-death sequence is far more dramatic to show than the lemmings' self-implemented population-density management plan.

As the popularity of Disney grows, I guess so does his influence over all aspects of life...

But spiritually speaking, sometimes we can all adopt the lemming method of spirituality.  Far distanced from our past insistence on both scriptural literacy and integrity, our contemporary world simply follows head to tail with the one who seems most in tune with either theology or spirituality.  For instance, it would not be a surprise to most Christians to learn that in a Barna report in 2014:

...a majority of U.S. adults (81 percent) said they consider themselves highly, moderately or somewhat knowledgeable about the Bible. Yet less than half (43 percent) were able to name the first five books of the Bible. The statistics are similar to the previous 2013 report which also showed that only half knew that John the Baptist was not one of the 12 apostles.

In his own experience, one student, Berding recalled, did not know that Saul in the New Testament was different from King Saul in the Old Testament. Another student thought the Old Testament figure Joshua was the son of "a nun," unaware that "Nun" was actually the name of the father and not a member of a Catholic community of women.

In essence, instead of understanding the direction in which God's will is taking us by daily reading the Bible and adhering to practices long established so that, as Paul writes, "(people) would seek him and perhaps reach out and find him, though he is not far from any one of us." (Acts 17:27) 

In essence, we leap unconcerned off the non-scriptural precipice of selfishness and blame God for abandoning us when we lie crumpled in a heap in the abyss of our shattered dreams.

So it was with the people of Athens.  As a place concerned with the inner life, Paul encountered a group of people, some Jews and 'God-fearing Greeks' as well as the smartest idle men in the city who "lived there and spent their time doing nothing but talking about and listening to the latest ideas." (Acts 17:21)

At least they were talking about new ideas, I guess.

But Paul was appalled by the proliferation of idolatry in the country, and if there was any one thing that God did not like it was idolatry.  (See the first two chapters of Zephaniah if you want to know how that's going to turn out.)  So, Paul engages with the people and their understanding of God and points to an altar where, presumably, sacrifices were being laid to 'an unknown god.'  They were trying to cover all the bases.  If I can just find a way to make sure that all the gods are appeased, I should have no problem being blessed by health, wealth and happiness in this life...

Sounds familiar, doesn't it?  In a contemporary world that almost completely disengages with anything spiritual, it is no wonder that the root of its discontent is that of idolatry - the endless quest to fill the spiritual with the physical.  Without any reflection whatsoever, we buy the newest, the brightest, the fanciest and most entertaining gadget that we hope can somehow appease the one we've set up as god:  Ourselves.

But Paul points out to the Athenian spiritual lemmings: "The God who made the world and everything in it is the Lord of heaven and earth and does not live in temples built by human hands, as if he needed anything.  Rather he gives everyone life and breath and everything else."  (Acts 17:24,25)

You who are jumping off the cliff into the abyss of materialism and egomania, beware that at the bottom, in the dark of that which you can't see, is the breaker of all dreams that God has for you.  And when your back is broken in the cliff of despair, you will have two options:

1.  You can blame God for 'leading' you over the edge.

2.  You can still cry out to the only one who can save you.  To God in Jesus Christ. 

To be sure we all have, myself included, longed for something more, something different, something that will bring out a greater sense of happiness.  Paul even says that God provides everything else, and the material is not a sin in and of itself, but when in its addictive state, it is just a 'chasing after the wind.'  (Ecclesiastes 2:10,11)

This altar to an unknown god which Paul addresses, he says is the God that they don't know - Jesus Christ and in him alone is the resurrection of the dead.  In him alone is the fulfilment of the scriptures.  In him alone is life and breath and everything else.

As Paul winds up his diatribe with the people of Athens, he says this: in the past God overlooked such ignorance, but now he commands all people everywhere to repent.  (turn back to God)  For he has set a day when he will judge the world with justice by the man he has appointed.  He has given proof of this to everyone by raising him from the dead.

God's peace to you as you turn back to him this week.  God's peace as you encounter the one who gives not only life and breath, but new life and renewed breath.

A Better Way?

I went to a football game last night.  My team, the Fremantle Dockers, took ineptitude to new and exciting levels and after the deflation of seeing my team lose so badly, surrounded by tens of thousands of rabid opposing fans, it was with great dejection I left the stadium.  Putting on a brave face and absorbing the almost pitying sounds of home fans as they noticed the colors of the team I was supporting, we walked with the throng along the street to the ranks of buses.

Just opposite the stadium, directly in the path of the flow of the river, a booth had been set up with a sign perched high in the air which proclaimed in bold and underlined letters: All have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God!  REPENT! For the kingdom of God is at hand! 

Although I agreed with the sentiment, the man speaking, holding onto the booth like one grasping a downed branched in a flooded river, shouted to the jubilant spectators, "Jesus has come to save you.  All you need to do is have a personal relationship with him!  All you need to do is open your heart!  All you need to do is accept that you have sinned..."  One of the women walking behind me responded, "I'll get down on my knees before God if he will just give my team the championship."  I don't think that was the point of the man's argument.

A few other people heckled him on the way past and the irony was not lost on me.  As he presumably stood strong in the torrent secular culture flowing like an engorged river from the bastion of sporting entertainment, his voice rang hollow.  Make sure you have a relationship with God because I, myself, don't (and probably won't) have one with you.  Make sure you do the right things.  Make sure that your efforts and your energy all do...  When he said these words: "All you have to do..." I cringed because unknowingly, perhaps, he had stripped the gospel message of all its power and put it back into the hands of humanity.  If its up to me and about what I do, well I'll certainly get to it later when I really need a savior.

This kind of preaching doesn't work anymore.  Maybe it never worked - the doomsayers, the placard holding Pharisees who stand in the middle of what they believe to be the cesspool of secular culture pronouncing judgement against the happy crowd.  Instead of reaching out to people, engaging in their joys and sorrows, the man at the stadium overlooked what everyone human on the face of the planet needs...

Connection.

Yes, with God, certainly, but with people who are willing to walk alongside them and wait for the right opportunity to talk about God's grace as well as the law.  To pronounce judgement on the sin of the crowd without an opportunity to hear their names or their stories is inviting, almost begging for, irrelevance.

Dietrich Bonhoeffer writes it beautifully: "Do not try to make the Bible relevant... Do not defend God's word, but testify to it. Trust the Word. It is a ship loaded to the very limits of its capacity."

In Christianity's attempt to bring relevance to the Bible, music, art, worship and all things 'churchy', all things which try to make Jesus 'cool', rather than trusting that the Word of God, Christ incarnate, and the written word, the cradle of Christ, we have actually done the opposite; we have made Christ irrelevant in modern society.  There is no room for a delicately flowing-robed Jesus, gently coiffed hair and neatly trimmed beard, who speaks about sin - because our culture accepts the fact that all activities are relative - and therefore irrelevant.

But there is room for the Son of Man who was given from heaven to be in relationship with all humanity, to hear their names and their stories, to heal and to preach repentance in a way that drew people to him and to salvation.

As Easter draws close and the purifying beauty of Lent rushes to an end at the cross of Christ, can we ponder once again how we speak of God?  How do we stand in a modern world which is flooded with distractions, to engage with a God on a long term basis - one fraught with difficulties and joys?  How can we avoid being crushed by the onslaught of negativity and mockery from a world that thinks it sees no evil, hears no evil and speaks no evil?

How can we draw on the message of the cross of Christ to deliver wonder to a wonderful world which is wondering about a hesitant future?

We connect. 

In the next days - let's take a look at Paul's opportunity in Athens when he seems to be doing the same thing as the man outside the stadium.  Acts 17:16-34.  Walk with me.

Negativity

With all the horrors going on in the world today, it's interesting the things that 'break the internet.'  I'm not fond of the phrase, 'breaking the internet,' like things going viral which, up to last week, was a BBC correspondent in Korea whose children decided to crash the interview.  The social media sphere did its best to make this man and his family the most famous people in the world for a little while and as I watched various interviews with him and his family afterwards, the most difficult thing for them was the fact that most people believed that the woman who crashed into the room was his nanny and not his wife.

Racially sensitive, the internet is not.

As I turned on my computer last week expecting the typical regressive articles regarding ways to make the President of the United States look bad (some of which he does himself), I came across what I would say describes the thread that unites all of our current socialized media...

Negativity, or rampant shallowness.

I smacked my head when I read that what was 'breaking the internet' two mornings ago was a trailer for the movie 'Wonderwoman,' and the heartfelt disgust that the character of Wonderwoman, in the editing room, has had her armpits bleached.

Let me write that again:  People were genuinely concerned that the moviemakers bleached her armpits so that any stubble might not be seen on the 'perfect' woman.

Objectification of women should not be trivialized, but for heaven's sake, the first female 'superhero' that Hollywood has come out with since Black Widow (is she a superhero?) is being torn to bits because of underarm hair?  For heaven's sake...

Speaking of heaven's sake, negativity has a way of leeching into almost everything - it has from the beginning of time.  Humans distrust God; humans distrust each other, and so they belittle and tear down because they believe at the same time it will prop them up.  Have you ever been around toxically negative people?  Do you ever stop to wonder how much life and energy is sucked out of you by being around them?  Even though you want to care for them, and support them, there is no black hole in human relationships like negativity.

Take for instance, Nathanael, the disciple.  I'm sure that he was not a constant source of negativity, well, to be honest, I'm not sure because there really isn't that much said about him, but his first words upon discovering Jesus, 'the one Moses wrote about in the Law, and about whom the prophets also wrote - Jesus of Nazareth, the son of Joseph,' (John 1:45b) were of negativity and disbelief. 

"Nazareth!  Can anything good come from there?"

It wouldn't be the last time Jesus' qualifications are questioned; simply by the town he lived in, negativity enters.  He is the son of a carpenter?  Please.  He has brothers that everyone knows?  I think we're barking up the wrong fig tree.

Philip is not put off, but wipes aside the negativity and the shallowness of the response.  "Come and see!"

In a world that insistently tries to brush Jesus off, like dandruff from a dark blue shirt, we are called not to combat the negative claim but invite them to encounter the Savior firsthand.  "Come and see!" We say with a smile knowing that there is something so incredibly, what's the word, vivid, about Jesus.  Through all of his encounters and connections with people, he stands in stark contrast to the negative world positively charging it with altered understandings and expectations.  Moses may have pointed them to the Law, but the fulfilment of that Law points them gracefully back to God. Immediately, he speaks positively about Nathanael; he combats the preconceived notions by encouraging him.  "Here truly is an Israelite in whom there is no deceit!"  (John 1:47)

Whether he was telling Nathanael that he was not lying in speaking about Nazareth that way, we don't know, but what Jesus revealed was that he already knew Nathanael immanently and intimately. 

How do you come before Christ in your connection?  Is it one of negativity?  How do you respond to the negativity that surrounds Christianity?  Do you begin to join the chorus of mockers in the call to crucify Christianity, or do you say to those who puff out their chests and say, 'We have moved past religion,'

Come and see!

Not come and read, or come and think, come and pretend...  Come and see the risen Christ in the body of believers who are not a collection of perfection, but a rabble of sinners claimed by the one who sees us standing still under the shade of our own personal fig trees.  Come and see!

Pointing the Other Way

As painful as it is, I have to confess...

I watched a recap of the Academy Awards ceremony.  Guiltily, I watched celebrity after celebrity hear their names called, pretend to be surprised, look shocked and hug the persons near them who were basking in the limelight for a few seconds and then ascend the stairs to the platform of their own self worship.

I don't know why I watched.  If there is anything in the world that I loathe it is groups of people on the 'inside' self congratulating and patting themselves on the back, smiling beautifully and smugly into the camera while some of the world marvels at what they call their 'craft.'

Let's put an honest face on it: these multimillionaires are paid to look beautiful, recite a few lines which they have the opportunity to redo and retake for as many times as needed, and then walk the red carpet to sit together at the beginning of every year to watch their fellow 'crafters' use the stage as their platform to either make fun of the current presidency, or to stroke their own egos.

And yet I watch.  Odd, isn't it?

I wish I was paid to look beautiful, could have as many retakes as I needed with my job, receive congratulations and adoration every year and then receive my thirty-eight million dollar paycheck in the mail.

Who am I kidding, though.  I'm not particularly beautiful by Hollywood's standards.  I don't get retakes and being a celebrity is not all it's cracked up to be.  There are all sorts of negatives with the kind of popularity that goes with being a great actor or actress:

You're never alone.
It's almost endemic to the community, but divorce is almost assured.
Although the money can buy things, it can't buy peace and it certainly does not buy happiness.
To be a celebrity means one lives one of the fakest lives available.

And strangely, as they mount the steps, as much as I admire their ability to capture an audience's interest, I feel sorry for them.

Does it really pay to be a celebrity?



Now this was John's testimony when the Jewish leaders in Jerusalem sent priests and Levites to ask him who he was.  He did not fail to confess, but confessed freely, 'I am not the Messiah.'

John 1:19,20

Here was John's opportunity to be the greatest at his craft.  Because of his celebrity status, people were flocking from Jerusalem to see if he was the Messiah - the one who would save them all.  Imagine how much more popular John would be, how many likes he would have, how many hits his cavesite would get...

After the leaders pressed him, "Who are you?  Give us an answer to take back to those who sent us.  What do you say about yourself?'  John recognizes two things about himself - maybe he's been thinking about them awhile, or maybe the Spirit is speaking through him:

1.  He is a spokesperson - one who speaks in a desolate place to people who are desperate for any kind of connection with God.  His voice not only prepares the way for the Lord, but it guides the people to him.

2.  He knows his place in perspective.  Illusions (or delusions) of grandeur have no place and carry no value for him.  The one who is coming is so great that John, even though he has a legion of people streaming out to meet him in the desert, cannot even touch Jesus' feet.

In essence, with all his force, John points the leaders in another direction.  He is connecting them with someone who is already in their midst.  Not a celebrity, but a Savior. 

Who are the people in your life who, in great humility, point away from themselves toward the Savior?

Who are the 'celebrities' in your life who consistently speak the truth and straighten the paths for others?

The hardest question: "What do you say about yourself?  Who are you in the kingdom?"

The Connection

A comedian once said, "I really like the saying, 'Before you judge someone, walk a mile in their shoes.'  Well, not only do I get to judge them, but I've got their shoes and a mile head start."




I wonder what thoughts were coursing through God's mind as the plan for the incarnation came into effect.  Throughout the centuries, time after time God's people continued the endless cycle of idolatry, sin, punishment, repentance and forgiveness, God continued to give second and third and fiftieth chances, but it never seemed to entirely take hold.  The connection between deity and human was so difficult because although humans could see the power of God in the heavens, on the mountains and even through the seas, it felt as if they were always saying, 'Well, God, it's easy for you because you can do anything.  You don't really know what it's like to suffer.  You don't know what it's like to feel doubt or pain or abandonment.  You don't really know what it's like because you haven't walked in our shoes.'


Which was the last straw that broke the camel's back?  Was it the grumblings of the slaves in the desert?  Was it the Israelites rejection of both judges and God to have a king like the other nations?  Was it those same kings who drew their people into revolting patterns of idolatry and sinfulness, doubting the living God for ones made of stone, metal and wood?


My guess is that it was not a last straw.  It was the first straw, or the first piece of wood, perhaps, from the Garden of Eden.  When the Deceiver placed the idea into the center of the mind of humanity, that God was unnecessary, or worse yet, greedy, the entire course of history needed to be emended. 


In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God and the Word was God.  He was with God in the beginning.

I would presume the greatest connection that we have is with the word that comes from our mouth.  What issues forth from our lips, even Jesus proclaims, is what comes from our hearts, and what comes from our hearts is as inseparable from us as the DNA from our cells.  Of course you can tell almost everything about a person from their words and what issues forth from God's mouth, the Word - is creation, life and light.  These three things are the central connection of the Trinity when God spoke His Word that took on flesh.  Literally, God's breath began to walk another mile in our shoes.  It was God who established that connection; It was God who made the first move.  It was God who responded to the cry of his people, and in that hearing, God established a connection that could not be broken.

When we speak to others, especially in the name of Christ, we remember that in our baptism, we have been drowned in the Word and it is no longer we who live, but the Word which lives in us.  How we speak can have immense implications on our connection to others. 

Ponder God's connection in Trinity and how it pierces your own idea of connection.

Can You Hear Me Now?

Sometimes I like to let my mind flashback to the things of the past.  I'm sure all of us have objects that bring back memories, or memories that objectify a time which seems to be turning more golden each and every year we breathe.  Just recently, in various daydreams, I've thought about Matchbox cars, little green army men, that electronic football game where the players vibrate all over the board and of course, Tinker Toys.

Then, just yesterday at church as I was watching the Power Point screens pass in front of my eyes, I started giggling because it reminded me of Bible Camp in the '80's and there was always that one person standing, or should I say kneeling, at the front frantically trying to keep up with the songs by changing the plastic see-through sheets for the overhead projector.  Remember when we had to do that for ministry or teaching in school?  Desperately trying to figure out which way the words were supposed to go, flipping them upside down or back and forth until you got them right?  What a way to communicate, right?

So, now that we live in a digital age where a phone - or should I say a computer, which fits into your pocket, not only can take the place of a wall mounted phone, a calculator, a walk-man (I'm dating myself again, but I'm revelling in it like a dog in the mud) and flashlight - but can communicate in so many different ways than I never could have dreamed when I was growing up: shouldn't communication be so much easier?  Shouldn't communication just be second nature now that we can see everything?

One of the things that I truly enjoy about Jesus' understanding of his ministry was his ability to stick pins in the consciousness and consciences of the people who were nearby.  When he was trying to communicate with people, he tended to use the words "The one who has ears, let them hear."  He didn't say, "The one who has eyes, watch this!"  Although Jesus did do very visible miracles which communicated the love of God in all sorts of ways, it was his words that changed people's lives. 

Hope is conceived not in the eyes but through the ears.  Faith gives birth to life through this hope in Jesus and unless we can hear again the message of Christ, of repentance, forgiveness and life eternal, we are sentenced to a life of sight without seeing, and lukewarm faith without belief.

In this new age of communication, I decided that I would take a lap around the Gospel of John and see how both he and Jesus communicated and I think I've found the focal point, or the hub, of everything that they were trying to do:

They were making connections.

When they made connections, new life was found.  Jesus connected people to God ('For God so loved the world...)  Jesus connected people to people (It is the Father living in me who is doing his work.  Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the works themselves (sight!).  Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works that I have been doing, and they will do even greater things that these, because I am going to the Father!)  Jesus connected people on the inside to people on the outside (- to the Samaritan woman - "Whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst!)

So, for the next few weeks, read with me, come with new ears, find the connection that Christ brings us to, not just a Spiritual connection, but a living, breathing human connection with those around us.  Find the questions to ask others; find the questions to ask God and ourselves.  Find your ears.

With each segment of John, I'll be asking these questions:

What is the connection which is being made?
How is it weak or strong?
What is God's response in connection with the event?
What does the Word have to say about it?
How can I communicate this connection to others?

There may be other things that come up, but this is a good template to start, I think.  If you have any reflections, send them on to me.

Between the Pincers

I went fishing with Santa Klaus on Wednesday.

During my first week at Good Shepherd, Verne made his way up to me and stuck out his hand.  I shook it and enjoyed the eerie visage that greeted me.  Verne peered at me behind bifocaled spectacles that made his eyes look bigger than they really were, and as he spoke, the hairs of his moustache blew out in little puffs, like cotton balls being tossed in a light, spring breeze, and his beard hung raggedly white on the chest of his shirt.

"Do you like to fish?" he said, his voice gravelly but mirthful. 

I stared up at him, to the top of his head which looked like the snow encrusted peak, El Capitan, in Yosemite National Park.  Verne is about six feet four inches tall and I would have guessed from his appearance that he would more likely fit in by handing out presents with elves than holding a fishing rod. 

"Do I like to fish?" I repeated as if this was the silliest question in the world.  "Don't all disciples like to fish?"  Weird Christian jokes fail sometimes and I think Verne was already wanting to rescind the question.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."  He was still smiling, which was a good sign.  "How about we go out fishing on Wednesday and I'll show you how to catch blueys, which is the local lingo for blue crabs." 



I rolled out of bed at five a.m. after a restless night's sleep.  Because I was excited to get out on the ocean for the first time, I woke up before my alarm, dressed in my fishing clothes, grabbed my hat, a few morsels for lunch and headed out the door.  Surprisingly, there were quite a few people on the road at 5:30 a.m., but I made it to Verne's house in fifteen minutes where he was already outside his house waiting for me.  As I approached and his form filled the headlights, I noticed he was looking at his watch.  He looked like St. Nicholas stamping his foot for the last of the toys to be loaded into the sleigh.

I got into his pickup truck and we started off down the road.  After a little small talk, he told me about some of his fishing adventures and what made him tick.

"So, you see," he started, his voice echoing above the classical music station in the background, which surprised me also (I expected Waylon Jennings or Johnny Cash), "I don't wear my teeth when I go fishing anymore.  One time I went, I got sea sick, and I burleyed the water (which means 'chumming' where I come from) and my choppers ended up with some shark, I'm sure."  In other words, he puked his teeth out.  I bet that was an amazing visual experience for the other fishermen in the boat?

"Wait, so you get sea sick?"

"Yup," he responded proudly, "But I take the tablets and I wear a little wrist thing."  I thought this was one of those jokes Australians play on me sometimes, that I would believe a little wrist band would miraculously cure seasickness, but he swore by it.  "I don't know how it does it, but this little band does something to steady me."  I was doubtful - I think most doctors would call them 'placebos.'  I wish I would have had one of those on the trip out onto the reef.

"And, here's the other funny thing - I'm allergic to shellfish.  Can't eat them.  Make me sick.  Allergies and things."  I looked over at him to see if he was serious, but his eyes were staring straight ahead into the road.  I had to formulate my thoughts:

I'm going fishing with a shellfish intolerant, toothless, seasick fisherman.  This is so AWESOME!

"What do you do with the blue crabs when you catch them?"  I asked.

"I give them away.  They're worth about $35 per kilogram.  There are always people who are willing to take them and eat them.  Giving them away makes me very happy."

Fantastic.

The sun burned the sky a crimson blood red on the way out to the crabbing grounds.  As the boat skimmed the surface, I watched out over the back and the heavens looked like a lava lamp bubbling and roiling and changing colors.  It was spectacular.  After half an hour of motoring across the relatively calm surface of the salt water, Verne pulled up over a place that his GPS tracking brought him too.  Telling me that he'd always caught blue crabs there, we then proceeded to take three crab nets each, stuff a dead fish into a little mesh pouch, clip it down and chuck it overboard.  As the sun was still coming up and over the Adelaide hills in the east, Verne sat on the edge of the starboard side(right side - it sounds like I'm a real sea salt, but I had to look it up) silhouetted.  Imagine Santa casting his toys over the edge of the sleigh into chimneys far and wide.  He explained to me that the crabs, as they were scavengers, would crawl over the net and attempt to pick apart the dead fish in the mesh at the bottom.  After waiting a certain amount of time, we were supposed to pull up sharply on the rope connecting the crab net to the boat and then haul it up as fast as possible.  Verne said that you can usually tell by the weight if, or how many, crabs were in the net on the way up.  Invariably, he was right.

After a few minutes, he pulled his net up and sure enough, the brilliant blue crustacean with eight inch legs and two inch claws was in the middle of the net.  I think Verne was trying to impress me, but he grabbed the crab by the pincers and threw it into the ubiquitous white bucket that once held some kind of industrial putty but now held seafood. 

"I wouldn't recommend you doing that on your first go," he said.  I wasn't sure if it was wisdom or a dare. 

"We'll see what happens," I responded intent on showing Jolly Old St. Verne that I wasn't just some Midwestern Yankee who couldn't handle his fishing.

Within minutes I was hauling up a net.  Nothing.  Then two more.  Nothing.  Meanwhile, Father Christmas was pulling in blue Yuletide gifts up and over the side peeking over his glasses to see if I was watching.

"Maybe that side of the boat was better?"  Certainly it wasn't me, the inexperienced crabberman.  Verne shrugged.

Finally, though, I pulled up one of the nets and sure enough, there was a nice big, blue crab hanging on for dear life as he was pulled from his aquatic home.  And, there was another one on the bottom.  "Hey!  I've got two!"  Unfortunately, I only got one in the boat which I anticlimactically dumped into the bucket rather than risking my fingers between the pincers.

"The most I've ever got in one net was five," Verne said as he chucked two more into the bucket. 

Why is fishing such a competitive sport?  Why did I feel as if I have to avenge my honor with Father Christmas?  Just enduring questions that may never be answered.

We caught our forty crabs, one squid a few whiting and trumpet fish which Santa called 'shitties' (and one small shark which tangled all of the lines.  Santa wasn't happy about that one.) and then headed back in to shore where on the way, a dolphin was practicing for the show, leaping high into the air.  Spectacular fifteen feet into the air, the jumps took my breath away.  Just seeing that was worth the trip out.

It was a good day, and as we journeyed back in off the great briny sea, I recognized a true sense of contentment in Verne's eyes.  He was happy to be sharing his boat, but especially his time, with someone new.  It was a great gift that he gave me.

And that was what I was to find out about Verne.  He is one of the kindest, most giving people I've met in a while.  Even after we finished our crabbing experience, he brought me back to his house, gave me a tour of his garden from which he produced some beautiful zucchinis and then a shoot of basil, volunteered to clean the squid and whiting that we caught and then smiled all the way as I drove off. 

He truly is Santa Klaus. 

Or should I say, Santa Claws.

Ouch.  Sorry, I couldn't help that one.

Moving

To me, moving is not really that painful.

Sure, there are different stresses and difficulties that come having boxes packed, strips of tape riiiiping and echoing in the hallways of the house which will soon become your ex-house.  And as you are looking at your new house on the internet, dreaming of all the memories that have yet been made, you almost feel guilty...

Honestly, the excitement of a new adventure someone cancels out the anxiousness of moving, but as I ponder what's happened in the last couple of weeks, I realized something profound (or at least deeper than normal)...

It's not the moving that's painful - it's the leaving.

Moving is part of life.  Once movement stops, or even the presence of stagnation, I start to get slower, sedentary and maybe even a little obese in the way that I approach life.  All things need to move - that's why God gave us legs.

But, the leaving part.  Ugh. 

Our last nights in Queensland for a while were spent with Christine's parents.  Because we are citizens of countries on opposite sides of the planet, we have grown accustomed to living apart from parents, but that doesn't necessarily mean we like it. 

I suppose the departure from parents is biblical - in Genesis we are told that we are to leave our parents and cleave (cling) to our spouses, but that departure process is like a riiiiiiping sound echoing in the collective married soul, and even though there is excitement in the moving, the leaving is difficult.

Abram's father, Terah, lived to a ripe old age of two hundred and five years.  I don't know if you continue getting riper the older you get, but Terah must have been very mature.  When Terah was well into his older years, he took his entire family, Abram and Sarai - yet childless - included.  They left from their home in Ur to go to Canaan.  In Genesis, we are not given the reason for Terah's departure; better land, adventure, new life, didn't get along with his 185 year old sister - who knows - but they settled in Haran until he died.

But his son, Abram, moved because of something different - a word, a promise (better yet) whispered on the wind to a childless septuagenarian and his barren wife, Sarai.  Genesis 12:2,3

I will make you into a great nation,

and I will bless you;

I will make your name great,

and you will be a blessing.

I will bless those who bless you,

and whoever curses you, I will curse;

and all people on earth

will be blessed through you.

In contemporary society, most people would attempt to dissuade Abram from moving; they would tell him it was just his conscience speaking.  That little voice you heard in your head - ignore it.  There is no such thing as God; just a fairy tale, a false hope to get people through life.  Just embrace the fact that ultimately we are all alone and we will all eventually sink into the great darkness.

How easy, and rational, it would have been for Abram to simply stay where he was in the land that his father had settled, meet up with the relatives after synagogue on Sundays, play a little Middle Eastern cricket on Saturday afternoons, live out his next one hundred years in relative stagnation and ignore that niggling whispered promise.

But the next words in the scripture, verse 4, So, Abram went, as the LORD had told him...

He was seventy-five years old.

Conditions aren't always perfect for moving.

But moving does not always mean transporting yourself to another country, or another town or even across the street.  Moving can simply mean taking a step in another direction from where you thought you were supposed to go.  For Abram, perhaps he had already envisioned a future, living out the remaining one hundred plus years of his life, childless, but still in love; and then at the point when you least expect it, that whispering promise on the wind.

Go from your country, your people and your father's household to the land I will show you.  Go from the place you were planted, an be re-planted in a different dream I have for you (so paraphrased.)  And in the promise of God, that movement and leaving, painful as it is, will rejuvenate your life and bring new dreams and you will be blessed and be a blessing.

God bless you on your moving today!