Friday, July 20, 2012


Wednesday evening, giving us reason to wonder if we would even be able to even reach the rescue mission, powerful winds blew through this area dragging in their wake a torrential rain that threatened possible flooding. It lasted about an hour and then, just as suddenly as it came upon us, all ceased. My son-in-law showed up with his saxophone and the two of drove down to meet with the other half of our group. Arriving a few minutes early, we found the dining area already set up for church, but occupied by maybe a little more than half the usual crowd, the weather, no doubt, having eliminated the others in any attempt to walk there through such fury. Whether it could be held responsible, as well, for my own struggle during the hour we were there to worship with them is debatable. I’m more inclined to think it just part of life as it comes to us. Nonetheless, in truth, not only was it hard connecting with what the others brought forth, when those final few minutes were handed to me, it felt like I was merely serving warmed-up leftovers instead of manna from heaven. It happens… In Edersheim’s “Jesus the Messiah”, the author speaks in one chapter of the angel Gabriel appearing unto John the Baptist’s father, Zacharias, while he is alone just outside the Holy Place. The old man has been chosen to assist in a yearly temple ritual and the task carries with it great honor; but, struck dumb because of his unbelief, he is unable to completely fulfill his mission and the stigma will mark him as “unclean” for future assignments, treated with benevolent contempt, known by a label roughly translating to “idiot” priest. Such label, for whatever reason, has settled into my thoughts, the very idea that men should, in any way, consider themselves to be sanctified, righteous, or “set above others in their social status” through whatever merit they think themselves to have gained on their own seeming ridiculous to me. “Anointed” or not, there is no permanent transfer of all that He is unto us. We remain vessels, human in our stumble, used of Him as He sees fit, the glory always His, the lesson always ours to learn…….

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