Shining Spirit

What do these things have in common?
Chickens at home on the roost
Cows coming across the pasture toward home
A farmer reaping what he sowed.

Consequences.

Maybe if we sing the hymns louder
preach the sermons longer
form a new committee
commission a task force
hold a convention.

Maybe if we tried harder
prayed longer
I know! Let’s have a picnic
or a retreat or a rally.
We’ve got to do something!

Here’s an idea: Let’s read
Amos 5. Amos, the prophet?
Amos in the OId Testament?
That’s him! Obscure, grumpy
old Amos. Read it more than once.

Finally, come to grips with this
prophetic-biblical reality: It’s never
been about you or me. It has always
been about us. Social implications
ignored gets us to exactly where we are.

Sorry, Amos. We did it again.

The little red sports car calls my name! I’ve always wanted one, always dreamed of one, never owned one. The toy model I hold in my hand is as close as I will come. If only I could will myself to be smaller, even tiny so I could drive by her house, honk the horn and wave.

I weigh too much. I know it. It’s not something I can hide. In my middle years, my middle was different. O what I would give to be a 34″ waist again. If only I could will myself to be smaller, resurrect those pants folded in the cardboard box. I promise, I would never eat a donut again.

There’s a little voice that follows me around, not always welcome but always present. It doesn’t snicker or chide or accuse; it points out reality. It waits for one of my “if only…” moments, and then says: “This is now. Live it.” The voice is right. Wishing doesn’t make things happen.

And then, in a particularly thoughtful moment, I remembered times when I contradicted the voice, times when I succeeded in making myself smaller, less than I am: that time I knowingly settled for the easy way when it meant violating values. I became a smaller man. Or, that time when I ignored my neighbor’s plea for help; looked the other way. I became a smaller man. Or, that time when I knowingly worked against justice or mercy or kindness; sought revenge; demanded retribution. And I became a smaller man.

I have the hardest time remembering to live by a deeper nature; beyond self into servant; in this moment instead of the barren land of “if only…” I am me. I am now. I will not be a smaller man.

Sometime today, and only God knows when, frustration and fear will tap you on the shoulder and you will hear the raspy voice of condemnation: “how bad you are!” or “you’ll never make it!” or even “you don’t deserve to be loved!”

Don’t believe it! It’s a lie!

Sometime today, maybe sooner than later, somebody will smile and say “you did a good job!” or “how nice you look today” or “you are a good person!”

Believe it! It’s the truth!

Sometime today, when you least expect it, the smile of your child or grandchild will come into your mind or a friend will give you a big hug or a song will trigger good memories or something will happen that will cause you to stop and feel the warmth of genuine gratitude.

Say “thank you! Be grateful.

Then tonight when you think about your day and all that happened in it, take the cruelty of thoughtlessness and all that came from the brokenness of the world and throw it away. Flush it! And then take all the moments when you felt loved, appreciated, valued, blessed and put them in your treasure box. Keep them as precious jewels. It won’t be long before you will need to buy a bigger box.

By the way, it’s true. You are special!

I stood in the rain today.
Hands upraised, face looking into
little droplets of life falling,
falling, striking my forehead,
sliding across the bridge of my nose,
bluish-silver collections of
holy molecules, each one
part of the next, all the same
but different.

I stood in the rain today,
mind open; spirit drinking the
sacred sky as it tumbled to the earth.
Metaphor?  No, gentle reality carried
on the breath of the early morning.
It didn't take long for the droplets
to dissolve the crust of protection
I wear, the porous armor that
satisfies my need to be
safe in the midst 
of serenity.

Have you ever looked up to see
love falling upon the earth?
Open your mouth, taste the
sweetness of grace.  Feel
the intoxication grow.
Allow yourself to be
swept away into
the endless
river.

The day begins.
Lord, if...
I don't think of you,
please remember me.

If I kneel in prayer
and my old knees won't work
in the getting up,
please help me.

If I hurt or offend anyone today,
give me the wisdom and the will
to apologize and to make things right.

If I can bless as I am blessed,
show my who and how.

If I start down the wrong path,
detour me into 
your design and desire.

If I get lost and afraid,
rescue me with your love and 
your mercy.

If I do anything good today,
anything kind or loving or
caring, let me give you
the credit, for
You are my strength and my hope.

Amen

Sometimes we are compelled to seek Grace or Mercy for different reasons. Sometimes we are driven by guilt or shame; sometimes we are drawn by gratitude or joy. Different routes – same destination.

At The Altar

Two people knelt at the altar today,
unknown companions, each seeking a way
to encounter life's Author, to know without doubt
the fullness of God, what life is about.
Shoulder to shoulder, on their knees in prayer,
sharing the feelings of delight and despair.

They came to this moment by such different ways,
compelled to hear the voice of God say:
You are loved, my child; you belong to me,
and in this moment you each shall be
held in mercy's affirming hand,
renewed in strength so that you may stand

unafraid, unashamed, two daughters of Light
awakened to see with spiritual sight
the Mystery that surrounds you day after day,
to know the joy of work and play
in the garden of Grace, your home in my heart,
the place where nothing can keep us apart.

Two women learned a lesson that day.
Some people are driven by guilt and shame,
some drawn by Love's undying flame
to find the Source of life's common claim.
Driven, drawn both compelled toward the Light
where they rise from the altar with sacred sight

to see themselves, newly blessed by Grace
seen in the light of each other's face.
Many roads compel, gratitude or shame,
but the reasons dissolve at the sound of his name.
In Him, through Him, with Him is found
our common quest, Love's sacred ground.

I have enough.
Maybe not as much as I want,
but enough.

Beneath the sorrow and the pain,
under betrayals and bad times,
there is a quiet pool of abundance
that is never diminished.
I have all I need, not only to survive,
but to live the life of a prince.
All I need to do is move through
the torment into the treasure,
step of the edge into the arms
of sufficiency.

I have enough.
Maybe not as much as I want,
but enough.

When your mind speaks, listen. Rational, logical thinking is very important. Make sure you understand before you act. Calculate, do not estimate.

When your heart speaks, take good notes. That bit of advice appears on the front of…guess what…a notebook. Good notes, because you’ll probably be going back to the heart wisdom when reason and logic come up short. My mind says: Do this because it is efficient, practical and productive. My heart tells me: Do this because it’s the right thing to do; or don’t because it’s wrong. Not mathematically wrong, but morally wrong or ethically wrong.

Listening to “heart-speak” means you might go against the tide of public opinion, might take a position on some important subject that carries the price tag of popularity or personal advancement. In some rare cases, might put you in personal jeopardy.

This kind of “heart-speak life” might remind you of someone long ago who dared to live by different criteria, and you know what happened to him. Death? No, I’m talking about an empty tomb. Just as we can’t hold back the dawn, so the ways of the heart are intuitively and instinctively right. So, when your heart speaks, take good notes. But remember that the value in living this “heart-speak” way is not how many notebooks you accumulate.

Do you ever get tired of pastors and priests reminding you, week after week, to lead with your heart because that’s the way Jesus did it? Me, too. So let’s just do it.

Easter brought a lot of surprises to a lot of people. For instance, the biblical Mary mistook the Risen Christ for the local gardener. Surprise! King Herod, the one who murdered Jesus, thought he had everything under control after he took Jesus off the cross and put his body in a tomb. Surprise! Two people walking to the village of Emmaus, talking about the sadness of the day: Jesus was dead. A stranger joins them on the road. Surprise!

To be honest with you, the traditional celebration of Easter is missing the element of Surprise! because we know the outcome. Church leaders try hard to foster a sense of Surprise! in congregants, and we engage in the ritual, but I know the end of the story. So, today is the Monday after Easter. I’ve put away the Easter decorations, my Easter bonnet with all the frills upon it, and I climb back on the treadmill of reality.
And, as part of my morning meditation, I read one of my favorite authors, Mark Nepo. Look at this!
“Life is surprising, thank God, and God, the chance to know Oneness, lives in surprise. For God is seldom in our plans, but always in the unexpected.” Do you see what that means? The reality of Easter is not necessarily in the ritual, but in the routine of my days. One mark of a follower of Jesus is the willingness to be surprised. I encourage you to live in a sense of Easter Expectancy. Because just when you think you have everything organized, labeled and filed…Surprise! Easter living begins today with the discovery, the encounter, the realization. Keep one eye open for the unexpected. And you’ll still be surprised.

Was that…..? No, probably not. Well, maybe. SURPRISE!

Lesson number 83. The same lesson every year. Identical! He Lives! No tomb of fear or pain or disappointment or grief or disaster or loss or doubt or anything else you can think of; nothing can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus; our risen Lord! Not now, not forever.

HE LIVES!

Go! Tell it on the mountain. Then come down to the reality of suffering and pain. Tell it there, too.
Tell it with your word and your work. Let’s let our hands speak. Let’s offer the bread of life to the spiritually and physically starving. Let’s live so that people will know: He is not dead. He is risen. Let’s agree on one fundamental truth that can and will unite us: We serve a risen savior; he’s in the world today. Up from the grave he arose! He walks with me; he talks with me. O Lord, my God, how great thou art! This is my story; this is my song. Because he lives, I can face tomorrow. It is well with my soul. O yes, it is well with my soul.

May all be well with your soul, too, on this day of wonder.