Despicable People

 “Can you see the one the Lord has chosen?” Samuel asked all the people. “He has no equal among the people.” But some despicable people said, “How can this man save us?” They despised Saul and didn’t bring him gifts, but Saul didn’t say anything.                                                                                                                  1 Samuel 10:24, 27

The ones who failed to trust God in the selection of Saul as king are called despicable. Their doubt, their inability to see God at work, their lack of faith that God could work in and through Saul earned them a rather harsh assessment.

Yet in our culture, and sadly, even in the church, we would hold such people up as shrewd, careful and reasonable. We admire those who won’t be “duped” by “fanciful” notions of faith, such as trusting God to provide and direct, who won’t be “gullible” enough to be amazed at the way God can work in and through people. We don’t believe God can change people, that God’s nature is more powerful than human nature, or that people can really be reborn in Christ.

A friend of ours recently returned from a mission trip to Uganda, where one of his tasks was to distribute reading glasses. A girl who needed glasses to be able to continue her education came to get a pair. The team had collected glasses in certain strengths, the strongest of which did not help the girl. That morning, our friend had found an odd pair of glasses in a strength they had not collected for their trip. He laid it aside, but when this girl came, she tried the glasses and could see. Our friend had no explanation other than God, because the glasses had not been in their collection the day before, and they had carefully cataloged what they took prior to leaving the States.

Why can God only act in miraculous ways in Africa, or in a hospital or among the poor, and not in a church budget committee meeting? Why do we not believe that God can provide the resources we need in our first world, upper middle class churches to do God’s work? Why do we, the members of these churches, cling so tightly to what God has given us, as if it is all we can expect to receive from God? Why do we worship the idols of scarcity and fear and rationalism instead of the God of abundance and peace and joy? Scripture has a word for us: despicable.

All powerful God, who created all, have mercy on us for being despicable people who doubt your ability to act, who fail to worship you, who think we know better than to trust in your provision. Rend our hearts and minds, smash the idols we elevate as greater than you, strip away anything that we trust other than you. As we stand empty and shaken before you, fill us with your joy, your peace and utter trust in you, that we may be forever changed from despicable to disciples. Amen.

The Perfect Present

Recently I’ve been thinking about the notion of perfection. Although we tend to think of perfection as flawlessness, I wonder if a better definition of perfection is the fullest appreciation of the present moment.

I spent a quiet day yesterday at Green Bough House of Prayer. It’s a place I go when I need to hit the pause and reset buttons on my life. As I sat outside yesterday morning on the porch of the retreat house, anticipating the silence, a mockingbird war broke out in the yard in front of me. Fully distracting and plenty loud, three mockingbirds hissed at each other and flew at each other, fighting in midair. They did this over and over again. There was nothing quiet about this quiet space!

I could have gotten frustrated with the lack of quiet but instead I thought, “Perfection is being here, not having perfect silence.” Isn’t this true about many of life’s situations? Perfection could be having your grandchildren visit, even if your picnic is rained out. Or maybe it is putting up a batch of peach jam for Christmas gifts even though one jar doesn’t seal (that’s the one you get to eat). Or maybe it’s getting the garage cleaned out enough to get a car in it, but not completely empty.

When we can celebrate the present moment’s blessings instead of falling into the defeating attitude of “if only” thinking, that, to me, is perfection. Rejoicing in what is going right helps us to be light-bearers for Christ. When we wallow in regret and discontent, we extinguish the light of Christ within us.

Paul, even while imprisoned said, “Be glad in the Lord always. Again I say, be glad.” (Philippians 4:4) Certainly if perfection for him had been the ability to move freely in the world, he would have not been able to be so joyful. But Paul had the fullest appreciation of the present moment, and God’s presence in that moment. If Paul could be joyful in prison, what is holding us back from perfect joy?

Mindfulness vs. Busyness

And I find [God] never guides us into an intolerable scramble of panting feverishness.

–Thomas R. Kelly, A Testament of Devotion

This past weekend my husband and I attended a wedding in North Georgia. We were in the heart of Georgia wine country, and because we had arrived prior to the time we could check into our accommodations, we decided to stop by one of the wineries to pass the time with a wine tasting. The tasting consisted of half a dozen different dry wines, two white and four red. Paying attention to the often subtle differences among the different wines, I was reminded of the importance of mindfulness.

We sniffed, sipped and noted the hints of flowers, oak or other characteristics of the various samples. I expected to be able to differentiate between the tastes of whites and reds, but was surprised at how I could tell the differences among seemingly similar red wines. Because my full attention was devoted to what I was doing, and because I was not in any hurry, my senses were more acute to details I might have otherwise missed.

We stayed the night at an eco-friendly lodge. On Saturday morning after breakfast, we had the opportunity to tour the grounds and learn about permaculture practices the owners had adopted. While there was more than I could absorb in one walk around the lodge, what I did learn was that the owners paid attention to which areas received morning or afternoon sunlight and also the direction of prevailing winds. They grouped plants so that the different plants helped each other by providing shade or beneficial insects or important nutrients. For them to experience success with their practices, the owners had to approach their project with mindfulness.

The process of slowing down enough to pay attention enough to taste the differences in wines, or to notice which way the wind normally blows at one’s home, or to see that someone’s eyes are sad even as they are responding “fine” to you as you ask them how they are, requires practice for most of us, because we are so used to rushing from task to task and place to place. Living our lives at a frantic pace is not following the way of Jesus. Jesus could minister to people because he was deliberately mindful.  Jesus promised a light burden if we follow him. Following “The Way” means mindful living, not panting feverishness.

Understanding and Indifference

Come, let’s go down and mix up their language there so they won’t understand each other’s language.”  Genesis 11:7

Our church is doing a summer sermon series on Genesis. This past Sunday, the message was about the building of the Tower of Babel (Genesis 11:1-10). It has been good to revisit a familiar story that I probably haven’t read closely in quite a while.

This account explains why we have different languages. Yet even when we speak the same language, we don’t understand each other. It’s more than dialectical differences that separate us. It’s the differences of culture and family history and economics (to name a few) that keep us from understanding one another. Frankly, I’m not sure that we always want to understand each other, because that puts us in the uncomfortable position of recognizing that we need to change—our beliefs, our habits, our ways of seeing others and the world.

We can choose not to change, but when we make that choice, we grow a calloused layer of indifference around our hearts. This is an evil indifference for it arises out of knowing and not caring. Once you know something, you cannot un-know it.

Understanding is risky business. It is deep and disturbing and that is why we are much happier in our ignorance. When we don’t understand, we can spew our shallow knowledge at each other, using our limited understanding as a weapon to defend our position rather than letting knowledge grow into something that draws us to those who are different from us.

In the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve ate of the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. If knowledge is a tree, we too often choose to cut it down for spears to hurl at each other rather than nurture its growth and welcome its gift of shade for us, inviting others to join us in its shade. When I see the way we treat each other, I wonder if any of our ancestors really did eat any fruit of the tree of knowledge. Our unwillingness to understand each other seems evidence to the contrary!

The Way to Peace

“This Companion is the Spirit of Truth, whom the world can’t receive because it neither sees him nor recognizes him. You know him, because he lives with you and will be with you . . . Peace I leave with you.”     John 14:17, 27a

Truth and peace go hand in hand. If we have Christ’s peace, we also know the Spirit of Truth. It dwells in us and gives us peace. The world doesn’t know truth because it cannot recognize peace. At least it seems that way in our culture. We are a fearful, anxious, reactive society. We put our faith in impermanent things—money, status, power and possessions—but because they are impermanent, we are perpetually anxious.

We need to recognize that truth is not found in worldly power but in letting go, in generosity, sacrifice, humility and weakness. It is the way Jesus came. “I am the way, the truth and the life.” (John 14:6) This is about how to live. The way is a life of downward mobility and humble service, the pattern of living that Jesus modeled for us. We have turned it into an exclusivity that allows us to build ourselves up materially and egotistically. We never get to truth and life if we don’t even follow the way.

It is why we cannot recognize the Spirit of Truth, because what we recognize is ego, power and accumulation of wealth. We don’t understand that to be strong, one becomes weak. To gain one’s life, we must give our life away. To be born in Christ, we have to die to self.

We cannot have the peace of Christ if we are constantly protecting our egos, our possessions, our status and our power. We think peace is found by defeating our enemies, but we find peace by defeating our ego and its overwhelming appetite for control. When I have nothing left to protect or defend, nothing I must possess or control, when I release the burden of self-preservation, I then have the unshakable peace of Christ and a home within for the Spirit of Truth. 

Why I Love the Lectionary

I thrive on order and structure. My husband knows that to spring something on me on short notice is to create stress for me. Years ago, I heard a speaker describe a “time fence.” A time fence is a boundary around your time. For those who are spontaneous, their time fence is small or nonexistent. Time for them is like the open prairie. You cannot trespass on their time because they freely give whatever you need.

For others, like myself, time is bounded by a large fenced enclosure. I sit in the middle, but I want a large space between my fence and myself. I want to see what has come into my fence from a long distance away. I like time to plan and prepare. I am one who looks at restaurant menus online if I know I am going to an unfamiliar establishment. I want to know my options ahead of arrival.

My preference for structure may be why I like the lectionary. The lectionary is a listing of scripture readings appointed for given days. The Revised Common Lectionary used by many Protestant churches includes readings from the Old Testament, Psalms, the Epistles and the Gospel, with some variation depending on the seasons of the Church. Many pastors preach from lectionary texts. The beauty of the lectionary to me is that I can read and pray over the texts prior to attending corporate worship and hearing a message preached on one or more of them. This is a particular advantage if you are traveling and attend an unfamiliar church. If the pastor of the church you are visiting preaches from the lectionary, you can still prepare for worship by praying over the texts ahead of time.

Since my dad died, we’ve been traveling often to his house in Tennessee. We attend worship at his church on Sundays when we are there. It is such a joy to arrive and to hear the texts preached that I have already spent time with in prayer. This preparation makes corporate worship more meaningful for me.

On a larger scale, I know that others all over the world are hearing messages preached on the same set of texts. It connects me to the wider Church in a deeply spiritual way. Across differing denominations and worship styles, the lectionary is a thread that binds us all together. It keeps us from falling into ruts of only hearing “favorite” passages. It challenges us to read scripture more broadly than we might otherwise. It calls us to structure and discipline, to growth and order, by giving us a framework for scripture study. And because the Revised Common Lectionary is on a three-year cycle, it calls us to revisit the same passages time and again, so that the texts meet us in different stages of our lives.

The discipline of praying the lectionary texts has become a transformational spiritual practice for me. The more I do it, the more I appreciate the beauty of the lectionary.

The Lighted Path of Righteousness

Light is planted like seed for the righteous person. 

                                                                                Psalm 97:11a

It is enlightening (bad pun) to think about light as seed. It’s easier to think of seed needing light to grow. Imagine the ground looking like the sky on a dark but clear night, light beaming out all around your feet. It is like a scene from a Disney movie, a path so illuminated that it is nearly impossible to stray from the right path.

Ah, you say, if only the path were so clear! But is it really that hard to see the right path, the path that God has for you? I believe that righteousness, while a gift from God, grows within us as we practice living rightly day in and day out. It’s not about “being good” but about such an overwhelming love for God that you want what God wants. This deep love compels you to faithfully walk in the way of Christ, and as you do, it becomes easier to see and follow the path.

Like exercise, the regular practice of walking in the way of Christ strengthens our faith muscles, and what was once unnatural for us simply becomes who we are. Several years ago my New Year’s resolution was to eat more fruits and vegetables. It was quite hard at first to change my eating patterns. I had to crowd out the other foods to make room for more fruits and vegetables. But consistent practice has changed the foods I crave. It is the same with living righteously. It begins with falling in love with God and grows to be who I am, instead of something I have to consciously do.

That doesn’t mean I never fail. Righteousness does not equate to perfection. Righteousness is a way of living in obedience to Jesus, an obedience that bubbles out of you because the center of who you are is overflowing love for God. We daily learn to follow more closely and we discover that our failures are caught in the net of grace! We can acknowledge our failures, repent of them, but not be defined by them or held hostage by them. They don’t rob us of our joy. They don’t turn our vision from the light on our path.