"Anointing...................."

Rob, a friend of mine over at "Faith Meets World", was prompted to write a nice Valentine's Day post illuminating the apostle John's declaration that God "is" love. In Psalms, however, we are told to "extol Him that rideth upon the heavens by His name Jah", an appellation expanded unto Moses there at the burning bush as "Jehovah", or "I am that I am"; and it would seem that, while we can examine the Creator through individual filters, we can never capture Him completely with just one particular, individual word. He simple "is"; and, as such, sits beyond our understanding, our ability to approach by any means other than reverence on our part. We find communion with Him through Christ. We can step into His presence via merger with He whom Christ has returned unto us. God, through Christ, and Christ alone, is tangible and accessible! Why, then, is it that men shun the light, preferring darkness? Why is it that some, even in claiming to know Him, yet "neglect so great salvation"? Can it be that we are content with defining Him in our own terms, doctrinal totems an easier means of establishing our own righteousness without having to face His? We walk within such boundaries as have been taught us, by such beliefs that the journey has thus far instilled into our thinking; and this old man has become convinced that "enlightenment" was never ours to bestow upon others via linguistic means in and of themselves. The Holy Ghost, Christ "in" us, is the promise given; and either that resurrected renewed reality comes forth in our daily life, witnessing somehow unto whosoever shares whatever moment with us, or all there really is... is just "me" stumbling down the path.......

"Star Trek................"

"If you went to the ends of the universe, going long or going wide;

Would you hit a wall or only fall into what's on the other side?

What if but a thin membrane was there to penetrate;

and, passing through, all that you'd do was just reciprocate?

Or, better still, a rubbery gel that you bumped twice somewhere;

and answering your soft 'knock, knock', a deep voice asked 'Who's there?'

Laugh if you wish, as we sit and spin while soaring through outer space;

But reality demands to know 'What holds this all in place?'

And the answer's not beyond the moon. No; eternity's within.

The gulf was spanned at Calvary's Cross when He died and rose again.

For if a man listens with all his heart to what he's searching for,

he can know who's on the other side by just opening the door....."

"Transmission............................"

Wednesday evening’s class was focused on the Book of Judges, it being the target point for those up to date with the schedule for absorbing the entire Bible in ninety days; but, with everyone scattered in accordance with their own pace, our discussion was not restricted to that particular portion of the Book. We were observing how the Israelites, God’s chosen people, lived a “yoyo” existence in their acknowledgment of Him, continually needing deliverance from problems of their own making. One man likened it unto the United States who, in its own short history, appears to be abandoning its own Christian roots; and when he brought up the subject of “holiness”, his words took me to a verse in 2nd Samuel where it speaks of Ahab and Jehoshaphat sitting “in a void” and listening to all the prophets prophesying unto them. Whether my friend had utilized such term in reference to a lifestyle we try to achieve in Christ or His actual identity within us, I know not, but America, in my own opinion, isn’t in this present state of apostasy because of its populace, in general, having rejected its roots. Rather, its condition reflects a Church that, in many ways, has lost its witness. When faith is grounded in a doctrine, in words rather than a Holy Ghost alive in our midst, when faith is represented by no more than humanity at the reins, thinking itself somehow appointed not just “keeper of the Flame”, but the Authority in charge of it as well, God’s people need to go back to the Cross and begin again. While in Florida the past two weeks, I became acquainted with a millionaire widow who had been courted by her married pastor with little doubt as to what was on his heart. My sister resolved that issue, but it seemed to me damage had been done. On the day of my departure, I sat with them in a small diner for breakfast and, after our meal, asked if I could pray for her. My initial entrance into petition was prefaced by an assurance that men remain men, even “in” Christ, and that it wasn’t my “words” nor any claim of me being an ordained preacher giving importance to what we were about to do. What we sought was “connection” with a Deity who as both accessible and tangible, One who knew both her hurt and her need. Tears began to run down her face and the two of us stepped into His well. For a moment, the three of us knew His presence in our midst, seed was sown, and this old man simply flew home leaving the Spirit to continue further in her life. Witness isn’t impressing others of my own form of “righteousness”, but sharing the reality of His promise, His holiness, His grace alive in me…

"Potshots........................"

In spite of the reported successful box office gains that “American Sniper” is drawing, odds are that this old man won’t be purchasing a ticket. My pass on the opportunity, however, has nothing to do with the subject matter. From what I hear, the language throughout is satiated with four-letter vulgarities; and, while the use of an occasional mild expletive utilized here and there doesn’t offend me, there is a point, it seems to me, where it just becomes too much. As far as the story told in this one, my own history holds ten years of U.S. Naval service. Nothing that put me all that much into harm’s way. Some submarine duty in the Med playing “chicken” with the Russians. Having worn the uniform, though, there is a bond created, a “love of country” maintained, and the biggest item I wrestle with in this situation is not so much the idea of taking of another man’s life in battle, but the “authority” who chooses the war, picks the shot, and, in doing so, makes me a killer. Having just finished Brian Zahnd’s “Farewell to Mars”, a book devoted to embracing the Bible’s message of “love thy neighbor”, my own thoughts have been dancing with this theme before the movie was even released. Truthfully, my coming to Christ forty-three years ago altered my thinking in many ways. Is “pacifist” a label someone might pin on me? Like the author, my preferred choice would simply be “Christian”, there being no desire to fanatically chase some segment of the Gospel down the road. What I believe in is God’s voice, His tug on my inner anchor-line; and it is my personal contention that the road before us is accomplished in a stagger. Our Gospel may well be written in black and white (other than those possessing a red-lettered edition), but our next step will always be somewhere in the grey area, taken in faith, trusting in His grace. There is, it seems to me, that within the Book allowing me, directing me the right to defend my family. If war is pressed upon me, there is a self-defense permitted. Scripture instructs me to “be angry, and sin not”. Walking that thin line, obviously, is not an easy task. My major concern, therefore, is focusing on my own stumble, not a national hero. I salute the brave and the dead. I worry about this county…..

"The Throneroom..................."

The finality of what was shared with the men at the rescue mission last night pointed to a television commercial that I detest, one where some actor promotes security by investing in gold and silver and asks the question “What’s in YOUR safe?” My own use of the interrogative suggested that it might be better utilized to query what occupies our individual inner sanctuary, that secret place we all know within ourselves, that space that no one knows but me and God; and the only real item to explore is whether we have invited Christ inside to help clean up our mess. This, to me, is the heart of the Gospel, the kingdom He came to birth. Sadly, though, in looking around at the Church, at large, it puzzles me as to how well we have realized such truth. We establish our faith by how well we submit ourselves to the authority of the ecclesiastical institution, itself; and, in such manner, have split our identity into multiple fractions. We have deified the Book while, at the same time, framing from it enough theologies to rival Mars Hill. We have settled for good works as a means of expressing our conversion unto others, admittedly, admirable, but without a manifestation of His resurrected reality, just the right thing to do. People remain people, of course, and I are one; but that’s the very sermon I preach. That which convinces another of the Bible’s proclamation is not our humanity, not in in any form, that is, other than the vessel it can be for the Holy Ghost to come forth and reveal Himself! It’s not how glorious our worship service, how well we are able to recite chapter and verse, not even how much money and time we invest into outreach. The most powerful witness of this is Christ, Himself! If that seems to suggest Pentecostal voodoo” (for we have indeed injected enough of our vanity into speaking in tongues and assuming the Spirit to be ours to command), let me make it clear that our humanity in no way negates the fact that there is a true Indwelling desiring to so make Himself known unto the world. Be it through a still small voice or via some more awesome presentation, it begins with us investigating what really motivates our walk and then finds possibility in our surrendered willingness to experience it as we go…..

"Peace.........................."

The following is a "comment" to a friend of mine("Faith Meets World" linked on my sidebar), a "response" probably a better term, due to the length thereof. It's always a good visit, mostly because he lives what puts forth in print, the two of us not always completely in agreement, but mutually able thus far to discuss perspectives and remain anchored in Christ. In a world cluttered with voices crying God to be here, there, and everywhere, this is my recipe for maintaining a good grip on "the tie that binds"....

I’ve been reading Brian Zahnd’s “Farewell to Mars”, Rob, am about halfway through it, and am in deep thought concerning his message as well as yours. The book is already highlighted and with my own sideline remarks throughout. I loved his father’s advice about the majority almost always being wrong and found his own analogy of the crowd being “antichrist” right on target. When he writes, as well, though that “The spiritual experience of expressing a shared hostility can even be confused for the Holy Spirit… because of how it feels”, he comes close to my own thinking, my own hesitations to simply swallow any group’s “call to arms”, even when that last use of wording is endorsing the very opposite of what it seems to imply.

Your declaration here of it becoming clearer every day that humanity is being challenged with a stark choice to either learn and adopt the Gospel of peace or face self-destruction is without argument, in my opinion. Yet, when you say that humanity needs a “mechanism to periodically reduce our propensity to resort to violence” and suggest that Gospel “revelation” fulfills such a role, I’m left to ponder whether you refer to just the Book or the One who, in breathing it into, must now, as well, breathe into me. You give me hope when you speak of our needing more than “common sense or enlightenment” to ward off all threats, for, as Zahnd seems to imply, a believer, even a “born-again, filled with the Spirit” believer, still stumbles down the path clad in his own humanity. Where does that leave us, though?

I’m not wanting to give debate. We are agreed, hopefully, in the urgency before mankind as a global community. My own walk, however, has determined that the best that any individual can manage in this is to be a vessel for the reality of His resurrected Presence within us; and that involves a trinity: the Bible as well as we can decipher it; His tug on that paternal umbilical cord restored unto us via the Holy Ghost; and the journey, itself, as a lesson unto us as we go. I do ponder this present-day Church that seems to make a totem pole out of the Book, assume for themselves what, in truth, belongs to “Christ in me”, or throw it all out, lock, stock, and barrel, to create their own solution for what it takes to eventually enter through the Pearly Gates. The ecclesiastical institution, as a whole, as much, or more so than anything else, gives indication to me of “finality”. Judgment, it is written, must begin at the House of God.

"Stability..................................."

It’s been thirteen years since I retired from three decades of working on the railroad as a clerk. In 1971 my job involved simply driving a truck around the yard, hauling crews and delivering mail, several keypunch positions that communicated between various locations, and numerous types of office tasks otherwise. Being able to frequently move from one thing to another on that roster was initially a plus, my age, after two enlistments in the Navy yet young enough to enjoy change and, with more than four hundred slots to fill, somewhere someone was always dying, retiring, giving birth to vacancy in some manner. Seniority would eventually alter that somewhat. The introduction of the computer, however, was a killer and by the time I walked away, never to return, three huge national rail systems had merged into one that required no more than thirty-five or so individuals to handle that part of the business. What was once “security” for many men no longer extended to them such promise. Indeed, every so often my sleep finds me dreaming that I’m still employed in such manner, but facing a particular technical assignment beyond my ability to perform, so much so that my gut hurts pondering how to support my family when they fire me for my incompetence. Where do I go? What do I do now? It takes a few seconds after awaking with such fear to gather my thoughts as to reality as it actually is. How many today, though, have actually known this in their life, living now either on welfare checks or visiting homeless shelters? My boss, during that final segment of my employment, as men were being transferred across the country or else handed a small severance package, told me with a smirk on his face that people were stupid if they didn’t invest in stocks and bonds to protect themselves against future possibilities. The last report on him, after Wall Street crashed and the CSX decided they didn’t need his services any longer, was that he was divorced and selling insurance. There are no guarantees; tomorrow is in His hands; and any promise of peace is a matter of knowing Him through an inner connection. Such an anchorage has held me throughout whatever storm has come my way, an assurance confirmed each time this old sailor kneels at His altar. No nightmare can conquer that……