Shining Spirit

Do you remember the phrase “Random Acts of Kindness?” It wasn’t so long ago that we were encouraged to look for “random” opportunities to be kind. During the day, be alert to and prepared for that moment when you can do a kind thing for someone else. Great phrase and great idea!

But, let’s change one word of the phrase for a different emphasis. How about “Rehearsed Acts of Kindness?” Random = Watch for opportunities. Rehearsed = Make the opportunities. Reactive vs. Intentional. Here’s how it works: think of all the events and things you will do during this good day. Maybe there are meetings, or appointments, or social gatherings. Next, in at least one of those scheduled moments, think of a person(s) who will be the recipient of your Rehearsed act of kindness. The point is to enter the activities of your day with a Kindness Plan…and carry it out.

Then, tonight when you go to bed, give thanks to God for all the moments of Rehearsed Kindness, for each one was provided by the Spirit. God’s grace is sufficient, but grace is just a word until it is turned into acts of intentional kindness. Okay? Start planning.

Blaise Pascal, the French philosopher once said that people “never do evil so completely and cheerfully as when they do it from a religious conviction.” Someone who is absolutely convinced that he or she is right by the authority of God, and that I am wrong because I disagree with the “authorized” version, is at least misinformed and at most dangerous. It must break God’s heart to observe the meanness of people who are fanatic about their “God given rights” and who ignore the fullness of the Gospel taught by Jesus. Anytime the Gospel is narrowed down to “the basics”, you can bet there is a narrow mind somewhere in the neighborhood.

Using God for personal or political gain, no matter if you ride a donkey or an elephant, is evil. I grow weary of hearing pulpits tell us how to cope rather than how to create. The only people who can, and should, address this phenomenon are Christians, and it’s about time. WWJD? Jesus told us to walk the narrow way, but he never meant with a narrow mind.

I’ve heard the comment that our nation is toying with the concept of democracy as a political system. That may or may not be true. More likely we are moving toward a referendum on the Christian faith as a meaningful expression of human life. I neither expect nor want Christian preachers or national Christian organizations to engage in the tactics of who can shout loudest. I do expect that the undeniable message of Jesus will echo across the land, and that message is not about passive toleration. It is about passionate transformation of rage into relationship, anger into mutual agreement, cruel comments into compassionate acts.

The pablum days of Christianity are long gone. As I was told the other day in a local restaurant: Our menu has changed. So it should. Today we feast on truth, justice, compassion, mutuality and mercy. It’s time to order. Bon Appetite.

Yellow flowers decorate the hillside;
soft yellow, not the harsh look of well-
mannered hot house creations.  
These are bush flowers, not stem plants,
clusters of randomness perfect for the
unpredictability of the Sonoran Desert.

Whoever named this gentle obstinance "Brittlebush"
should be ashamed.  It is flexibility, daring and
courage stirred together to form a tenacious plant
that dresses the desert in festive attire.

Tall, elegant Sahuaros look down on the desert's
yellow floor and swoon at the sight of
the earth's undulating carpet.  
Bees sniff from yellow to yellow, a
slender coyote naps in the ample shade of
the rounded bush.

Soon summer will replace the juices of sweet Spring.
June follows too closely.  August is the brutal reminder
that this is desert, not Disneyland.  There is nothing
make-believe about savage heat and precious drops
of water.

Yet, few things die in summer's assault.  They simply sleep
to bloom another day, like yellow flowers that,
in this stunning moment, announce that
life is stronger than death,
more flexible than we think,
and capable of producing
wonder.

Amazing what drops from heaven can do.

Nobody planted this field of Brittlebush. No straight rows. No careful cultivation. They bloom because they’re there, on the corner of a busy intersection, quite visible for everyone to see. You’ve heard the phrase: Bloom where you’re planted. Maybe it should be “bloom wherever you happen to be,” in every unexpected moment, every unplanned encounter.

Be alert today to those moments when you can act in ways that portray the character of Christ. An extra moment spent in listening, a word of encouragement given, forgiveness offered or received, a simple smile accompanied by a “Good Morning.” If each of us did this, wouldn’t the world be a beautiful place? Then, just before retiring for the night, do a little honest inventory. Where and how did I show Christ to the world through my words or actions? The truth is, if you just show up in the moment of encounter, if you are alert to it, and if your spirit is joined to that of Christ, He will do the rest.

So, today bloom wherever you happen to be. You can make the world a better place, if for a moment. You can change the landscape of life into something very lovely. You, and the Christ who abides within you. May it be so, today and every day. Press on.

Moving from one location to another, as I did very recently, means that you have to prove who you are over and over again. It’s that necessary but distasteful “change of address” process. Merchants, doctors, the Postal Service, it seems that the whole world has to be notified about your new address. And some of them are pretty picky. For good reason, I know, but picky is picky.

In a phone call to an insurance company, I was asked: Your name, please. Your address. Your phone number. The last four digits of your social security number. Your former address. Your spouse’s name. Your date of birth. The location of your birth. The twenty-seven digit number of your policy. The date of the policy issue. The name of the person who wrote the policy. At this point I said: Sorry but I don’t remember the man’s name. That was thirty years ago. Then came the verdict: I’m sorry, the voice said, but you have not proved your identity and I cannot help you. Then he told me to write a letter to the insurance headquarters.

It takes about 25 questions answered correctly to prove who I am to an insurance company. It takes one act of kindness, charity, or compassion in the name of Christ to reveal my true identity. I am a child of God and a brother of the Risen Christ. You and I are not in the “doing good deeds” business. We are in a relationship that names who we are and guides behaviors that become blessings for others. I rejoice in the profound simplicity of my true identity and for the one who knows me through and through. He knows my name…just like he knows yours. Thanks be to God for the Shepherd who knows his sheep.

Last week, God, I saw beautiful paintings in an exhibit nearby,
but nothing is as beautiful as Light painting the earth inch by inch
as the sun rises each morning.

Recently I heard a poem that moved my heart. O, but it cannot
compare to the feeling of joy that fills me when I see the eagle,
wings extended, riding the updrafts of ocean breeze.

Thank you, Beautiful Creator, for glimpses of wonder revealed
in the common and ordinary. Help me start this day with an
intention to look for signs of your Presence, for I know those
signals surround me at every moment.

I bow my head in willing submission to Your will. I raise my
open hands to receive your blessing. My heart beats to the
rhythm of the universe that You graciously created. The eyes
of my heart see You in everything and everyone. And I smile
at the prospect of being with You forever.

Glory and praise in this dawning day. Glory and praise
to God. Amen

Which account of the Lord’s resurrection do you favor? Which one draws you into the living Presence? May I summarize them for the sake of conversation?

Matthew: Early on Sunday morning, two women go out in the darkness to visit the tomb. A bright light bursts upon them and the tomb guards, the stone rolls away and an angel sits on it to tell them that Jesus is risen from the dead. The women run to tell their friends and as they do, they meet the risen Jesus.

Mark: Just before sunrise, a group of women go to the tomb, wondering who will roll the stone away, presumably for the anointing ritual. They find the stone moved, they go inside where they meet an angel who informs them that Jesus is risen; they run from the tomb trembling and bewildered. And this is where the ancient manuscript of Mark ends. But, at least two endings were added later, one of which has Mary Magdalene going to the grief-stricken disciples, telling them what she had seen, and hearing from them: We don’t believe you. Later resurrection appearances confirm that he lives.

Luke: Similar to Mark, Luke tells of women going to the tomb to anoint Jesus, finding him gone, meeting two angels who inform them of his resurrection. They run back to tell the men, and, again, the grieving men think their story sounds like nonsense, and they refuse to believe a word of it. Then follows the brilliant Walk To Emmaus story in which Jesus is recognized in the blessing, breaking and sharing of bread.

John: This telling of the story has women at the tomb, crying, visibly shaken. They meet angels who question them, and when Mary Magdalene turns to leave, she sees a figure close by, assumes he is the gardener, and asks where the body was taken. When the man speaks here name, Mary, she knows who he is. The risen Christ stands before her, recognized in the calling of her name. Later appearances of the Risen Christ confirm his resurrection.

Each Gospel telling offers food for spiritual thought and reports a bit differently. Women play a prominent role, men question and want proof, angels announce and confirm, and the Risen Christ comes to them, most beautifully, in the intimacy of relationship (He called her name) and in the sharing of a meal together (Emmaus). While the stories differ in detail, they all come to the same conclusion. Christ is risen! He is risen, indeed! May the message of these stories live in you always and may you meet the Risen One in your daily experience. Press on.

The words of the prophet Isaiah ring so true. To a nation weary and worried, Isaiah wrote these words of encouragement and promise: “Strengthen the weak hands and make firm the feeble knees. Say to those who are of a fearful heart, ‘Be strong! Do not fear’…for the wilderness shall be glad and the desert shall rejoice and bloom.” I like to think that all living things, not just human beings, but also trees and rivers and animals and flowering bushes sense the power of resurrection. Diverse and delightful creation, sometimes besieged by worry and hard times, still draws hope from the message of Easter. How can we not?

My desert home has lost control. The dry land is bursting in color. Excessive, rampant, flagrant beauty is everywhere. Driving along some of our major roadways is like moving through a tunnel of vibrant colors, and people of faith, people who grasp the meaning of resurrection, rejoice in hope. So, today I will have a conversation with my weak hands and feeble knees, and I will thank God for the reminder and the reality of hope in difficult times. Maybe you should, too.

Today they walk holding hands.
Yesterday they didn't speak.
Today the world is new
because they forgave
each other.  That's
Resurrection.

The beautiful forest was badly burned.
It was carelessness that caused it.
That was years ago.
Today young trees
sprout through
the blackened
earth.
Resurrection is real.

A  bird dropped seed as he flew.  One
seed fell into a crack in a large boulder.
The seed waited to die, but the
Sun and Rain smiled upon the
seed and it felt a stirring that
replaced all the darkness.
One day Rain and Sun
and seed all joined
hands.  And...
Resurrection.

All because the stone was rolled away,
death gave up in the face of Love.
Life now moved beyond the grave.
Hope became more than a
passing illusion.  The
world witnessed the
Wonder of all time.
And the news
spread to all
the world.
"He lives!   Christ Jesus lives today!
He walks with me and he talks with me."
The Resurrection that defines and
denies all darkness, even
yours and mine.
Christ is Risen.  He is Risen indeed.

May you know again and again the
thrill of birth in the Spirit.  No stone
can hold you back, for we are
people of the empty tomb.
He lived.  He died, and
He lives again 
in you.
"I serve a Risen Savior.
He's in the world today"
Resurrection!
Thanks be 
to God.

Amen

The design of this little bird was a 
triumph in the overall scheme of creation.  It has been
several years ago that I caught him quiet
enough for a quick picture.  But our questions of
each other have not changed.

"What is that bird thinking as he stares at me?"
Would you like to be friends?
If I move closer, will you fly away?
What is your life like day by day?
Are you afraid?"

"What is that two-legged creature thinking as he stares at me?
Is he going to pull out a gun?
Will he throw rocks like the others?
Can he be trusted?"

Wouldn't it be wonderful to know the minds of
our animal friends?  We might discover 
that we have lots in common.
I think so.
Thanks be to God for the beauty and the 
mystery that surrounds us.
this and every day.