Shining Spirit

When you go to the community gathering for worship at your church, do you feel a sense of expectancy? Is something out of the ordinary going to happen? Or, is it pretty much the same week to week? Richard Foster, in his book Celebration of Discipline, warns us about going through the motions of church worship.

“Just as worship begins in holy expectancy, it ends in holy obedience. If worship does not propel us into greater obedience, it has not been worship. To stand before the Holy One of eternity is to change. Resentments cannot be held with the same tenacity when we enter His gracious light. As Jesus says, we need to leave our gift at the altar and go set the matter straight. (Matthew 5)…to worship is to change. Holy obedience saves worship from becoming an opiate, an escape from the pressing needs of the world.”

To put it in the condensed version: If you don’t expect anything from worship, you get what you expect. Not open to change…no change. No anticipation of hearing the whisper of the Spirit…no sound. And, as important as “holy expectancy” is, it is to be matched by “holy obedience.” The Spirit moves through a congregation waiting to hear the words “here I am, Lord. Send me.” Holy expectancy on one end, holy obedience on the other. Stand by! That’s worship!

The landscape of rural Virginia is littered with wineries. Stop in and have a taste! And so I did. It turned out to be a large apple orchard with a couple of small buildings where the thirsty traveler could purchase sample tastes of cider products. Who am I to disappoint these good people who care for the luscious apples and produce the nectar. I sampled.

It was like drinking the sweetness of the earth. Apple ladened trees stretched as far as the eye could see across the rolling hillsides. Warm sun, gentle breeze, and the sweet taste of freshly made cider. How fortunate I am. I should be grateful for a moment like this. I should remember the suffering and struggle most of the world endures while I sip cider. I do. I do.

And so, Living Spirit, let something like this cup of cider not only quench my thirst, but let it be a reminder of life on this earth, life that is filled with moments of joy and moments of disappointment and sadness. The earth is yours, Generous God, and it produces bounties of many things. May we who inhabit this floating home recognize not only tastes of sweetness but also our responsibilities to foster peace, justice, and mercy everywhere and for everyone. This is none other than the cup of salvation. I lift it to you, Lord, to honor and to hope. I lift it to You as a sign of my commitment to Your Kingdom of kindness.

May it be so. Amen.

“This is the day the Lord has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it.” (Psalm 118:24)

It seems that we all have an inherent need to ponder “The Other”. Some people pursue that felt need, some don’t. Some people call “The Other” God. Others feel more comfortable and connected by using a different title or name. The good news is that no matter how you pursue this need, or the name you use to commune with that which is greater than yourself, or when or where…we are all in different tributaries of the same river and that river is carrying us slowing and carefully toward the great confluence, a coming together in the place and The One for which we yearn.

Float gratefully today, for you are a voyager on the way. All rivers come together in the presence of The One who calls us.
So many tributaries; so many boats of different sizes and shapes.

One home. Amen

Loneliness is inner emptiness. Solitude is inner fulfillment.

Solitude is a state of mind more than a place.

Simply to refrain from talking, without a heart listening to God, is not silence.

I appreciate Foster’s observations about solitude, a very important word and life reality for many who seek spiritual insight. I would add that solitude does not isolate; life does that in many ways. Solitude fills the empty places with an assurance that is strong enough and deep enough to change the course of life.

Finally, while some people are able to live in a state of solitude every day, most of us are happy to experience even a few minutes of solitude, often unexpectedly. When I stood among the fir trees, looking at the Canada Geese on the little pond, I knew a moment of inner connection, solitude. I wish there were words to describe such an experience; maybe Foster’s last comment above comes close: Just to eliminate all the clatter and noise of your life isn’t the most important thing when seeking solitude. A listening heart, a listening heart. It is spirit to Spirit, created to Creator.

Life speaks to the listening heart. And what it says is magnificent, an inner fulfillment beyond words. May you, this day, step into a moment of sacred solitude, fleeting as it may be. When you do, welcome the Sacred Surprise and listen with your heart.

It is a beautiful planet! From 30,000 feet, passing over fertile fields, geometric designs marking fields and pastures, billowing clouds adding accent, rich blue skies all around. Yes, it is spectacular. Everyone should have a daily dose of such wonder.

Come to think of it, we can. Maybe not at 30K feet, but along the pathway where you walk. In your neighborhood. In the creative gifts of The One who continues to shape and form wonder. Look around today and be surprised by uniqueness and sameness. The most precious gift you will receive today is waking to the majestic mural of life. Don’t take it for granted. Treat it gently, as the special gift of Someone who cares deeply.

Thanks be to God; Creator, Sustainer, Life Giving Source.

Amen.

What a way to start the day!

Early morning, brilliant sunrise, wicker basket hanging under a multi-colored hot air balloon, rising into the clear blue sky. No thanks. Not for me. I’ll take a nice, leisurely bike ride any day. Or, maybe a brisk walk. Or, maybe just sleep in while other people do all the doing. Isn’t it nice that our world is populated by people who have different stories and dreams and hopes and practices and beliefs and preferences?

You and I are the same but different. We share a planet that begs to be healed and asks us to care for it. We need meaningful relationships. We hope, even though our hopes may vary. And, we all originate in the same love that created all things. We have purpose, common purpose. Today I will honor our alikenesses and our differences. Today I will appreciate the gift of the day and I will use it, not just for myself, but for the common good of all living things. Amen

A bouquet for you this fine morning!

I know. It’s not a real bouquet; it’s alive and lovely in nature, not snipped and wrapped in plastic. It’s not organized with the darkest color shades over here and the lighter shades over there. Not color coordinated. It’s the real before it becomes the regulated; originals before being organized. I wonder what it would feel like to live one day with such complete freedom? I wonder why Jesus used wild flowers as an illustration of a deep spiritual life?

So, I hope you enjoy your Saturday bouquet. Please don’t try to snip them and put them in a vase. They are meant to grow in the rich soil of the earth, drenched in sunshine, cooled by shade, blessed by soft rain. No two are identical; each has its own unique place and purpose in the bouquet. What if, in neighborhood or community, you and I are one among many in the human bouquet? What if we were designed to be one essential among other essentials?

Every flower, every leaf in the Saturday bouquet contributes to the lovely picture. Believe it or not, so do you. Because you are blessed, be a blessing.

“You are the salt of the earth. But if salt loses its saltiness, what good is it except to be thrown out as useless.”

If it looks like a duck,
and walks like a duck...
That sure looks like salt, but there's only one way
to find out.  Put a little on the end of your finger
and taste it. You'll know if it's salt or not.
If it has a little zing...salt!

But how does one lose her saltiness, 
his zest?  One way is to sit on the shelf too long.
Shelf-life, they call it.  Check the expiration date.
What's the point of being salt if you
stay in the cupboard all the time?

Another way to lose it is to be scared
of pepper's demise, so that you never take
a chance, never try something new, always
start your sentences with "Well, at my age..."
Trying to grasp saltiness because of a fear
of losing it squeezes the life out of life.

You and I will never be useless, but we will, also,
never claim as our purpose the frantic fallacy
of "I must stay young to be vibrant and vital."
Can salt lose its saltiness by trying too hard
to retain flavor?  Faking it?  Sure.
It's an ego thing; life done for the wrong reasons.
Fear can drive you to the cupboard or into
a ditch.  Either way, the game is over.

We are the salt of the earth for the sake of the earth,
not ourselves.  We are salt in the name of the One
who claims us.  We are salt for our neighbor
and for the stranger.

The depth of flavor and the quality of saltiness
has less to do with age than with attitude.
Where are you on the Zing-O-Meter?
You unplugged it!