"Infinity..........................."

“Jeopardy” and “Millionaire” are two of my favorite television programs, possessing a knowledge of trivia not my greatest asset, but collecting bits and pieces of it, here and there, certainly a long time passion of mine. It stirs the mind and provides food for the journey. The other night, for example, I learned that only the first four of our solar system’s planets are “terrestrial”, the others merely spherical concentrations of gas. How such fact has escaped me all these years, I know not; but, beyond that, the revelation of it has me wondering why Pluto’s state of flatulence got it expelled from the line-up. So it goes with me, though: Questions. Questions. The universe will no doubt always be more than any clear definition we gain as we go. That doesn’t mean a man has to be content in his understanding of it… In our mid-week Bible study tonight, discussion concerned our gaining a “Biblical world view” of everything around us, our making the Book the source of all we believe. While I was in agreement with our being “grounded” in the Word, yet I noted how we, within the Church, shape God in our own image using chapter and verse, how, rather than having our perspectives set in concrete, we need, at the same time, to be “flexible” to the Holy Ghost. Carrying one’s cross means “following” Truth wherever He leads us, not believing we “possess” truth in a box. With each step there is another lesson to be learned, another piece of the puzzle to be gained. What we get in this is a Guide to go with us in the journey……

"GPS....................................."

Monday marked the beginning of our second full week of school, the first ten days given to getting the kids readjusted to room changes, renewing old acquaintance after summer break, testing the waters on just how well what’s down on paper works when rubber meets the road. Individual schedules have been learned, in so far as taking each child to specials such as art, music, and library, and now we have begun to introduce the basics: mathematics, vocabulary, working with clocks and money. It’s an Autism unit, so the room is almost always alive with the sound of someone crying, or screaming, or just filling the air with excited jabber. Such is the assignment. Keeping it from becoming, like any other job, merely a numbering of days, a paycheck and nothing more, requires a heart for what you’re doing, a belief that it matters, a remembering that He holds it all in His hands… I swung up the expressway exit ramp on my way to work this morning, a red traffic light momentarily halting further progress. There, on the grassy tract just outside my window lay scattered multiple beer cans, pop bottles, and one or two crumpled up empty snack bags. It irritated me, at least to some degree. How often have I pulled up elsewhere and, waiting to turn, noted lengthy piles of discarded cigarette butts, drivers apparently finding such pause to be excellent opportunity to empty their ashtrays and the mess left for the city sweeper to catch next time around. What brings humanity to such a place that there is no sanctity at all in the little things, life is but a “me, myself, and I” survival existence? Surely when His purpose for us is not part of the equation, it has to be, if nothing else, lonely out there……

"Perspective....................."

Yesterday’s early morning sermon was entitled “When Challenge Exceeds Courage” and was delivered by the assistant pastor. I love to hear him, whether preaching from the pulpit, teaching in a class-room, or just in conversation with him as it comes to me. There is a fire kindled in the depths of who he is, an excitement, an exuberance that bubbles and shines in his eyes as he speaks. In this particular message, he pointed to the strength of our faith as depending upon the “object”, or “source”, from which we obtain it, referring to it as the “great gift” that all in Christ possess and going on to suggest that far too many of us settle for the “normality” of simply walking day by day with no real expectancy of knowing Him “alive” within us… During the evening service, then, near the end of worship, the lyrics to one certain song led to any within the congregation going through financial difficulties in any manner being called forth for prayer under a declaration of “the promise of prosperity pronounced by God upon the Jews now given unto us as believers”, such theme continuing for the remainder of the meeting. The message, again, embraced “faith”, but this time the man of the hour likened it unto an inner, divine connection with heaven on high, one bestowed to us “by” Christ, but one never given any personal identity other than a power we are meant to choose and utilize in the gaining of whatsoever… The second fellow had no less a flame than the first, his roots running down to drink from the same fountain; yet I find our vision blurred and our understanding in error when the Holy Ghost is not recognized as the very substance of such faith, the third member of the Trinity and the absolute authority in all matters. He is grace; He is wisdom; and when we fail to fall into Him, thinking ourselves “the swinger of the sword”, we may not be committing “high treason”, but we are, in my opinion, off center. It hurts me in my “belly”, even as, in prayer, I question if perhaps the old man doesn’t need some new bifocals……

"Super Glue............"

Somewhere within the volume of one of several books recently read, there was mention of Fray Luis Ponce de Leon, one of the maters of literature from Spain’s Golden Age. Barely surviving the Inquisition, having offended authorities by translating the Song of Songs into Spanish and criticizing the Vulgate, he was dragged from his classroom in the midst of one of his lectures, incarcerated and tortured for four years. Four years later, the old, stooped, nearly broken professor was allowed to return to the same university, indeed, the same classroom; and, opening his notes, he simply began by saying: “Como deciamos ayer”-(As we were saying yesterday), and then continued from exactly the same point in his teaching where he was when so rudely interrupted… The story returned to me about six yesterday afternoon, the first full week of school over and this old man’s brain, more so than anything else, in need of some quiet relaxation. The wife thought me a bit crazy when I abandoned my recliner, donned some sneakers, exchanged levis for cargo shorts, and wrapped a rolled-up bandana around my forehead; but that three mile stretch down and around the park gives me more than physical exercise. It’s a sanctuary, of sorts, a course usually travelled alone, but only so far as what others see of me. A few steps outside my front door, long before my feet turn north on the main road that runs beside the creek, my mind has already entered another world, examining life as it has come to me, the Gospel as I’ve heard it preached, as I’ve found it to be along the way. I’d describe that hour or so as “medicine for the soul”, as a “prayer closet” where my knees are not on the floor and my hands are not clasped together in “proper position”, yet, nonetheless, a time where “two become one” in an examination of the road thus far. There is no audible voice, neither His nor mine, unless, in the middle of it all, as it sometimes happens, tearful worship, often in tongues, begins to over-flow the well. Even then, though, it remains a private conversation, one not shared with others who are in the arena. Do distractions occur? Do my thoughts often fly like some bird, from branch to branch, my consciousness awakening to discover I’ve left Him “sitting in another tree”? So frequently as to embarrass me for my humanity, to make me thankful for both His patience and His fidelity. Always – He is right there where I left Him, waiting for the dove to return, still willing to fellowship, a little amused, perhaps, but just pleased with my hunger to know His presence in the journey……

"Degradation.................."

Wednesday’s mid-week class was the third in a series under the theme of “Fan or Follower”, a fifteen minute video clip with each session. The teacher, however, is a fellow with a great gift for drawing others into discussion and most of the ninety minutes we possess is a matter of sharing opinions, the “movie” an after-thought. In such manner, last night began with our considering the present state of America in so far as this society’s somewhat obvious loss of morality, he stating how, even though this country’s beginnings were founded in Biblical, it is easy enough to conclude the Scopes Monkey Trial the one historical event responsible for an ever-increasing erosion creating the cesspool we know today. If, initially, it only opened the way for the introduction of evolution to be taught in our public school system, such blow led to a complete restructuring therein, eventually the Ten Commandments forbidden to be displayed, prayer restricted and removed as well. As one might expect, there were plenty of “amen!”s, everyone in agreement that “the world” was guilty as charged… When somewhere along the way, though, a certain seminary, denominationally known for its Scriptural rigidity, was noted as recently having quizzed its incoming freshmen on whether they really believed Jesus to be “the only way by which a man might enter into heaven” and receiving a negative reply from eighty-six percent of those polled, this old man could no longer sit quietly minding his own business. “If that’s so,” I asked, “should we be pointing our fingers at the world, or at the Church? Doesn't the Word say that "greater is He that is in me, than he that is in the world? Maybe the problem has more to do with us ritually demanding others to swallow our Christianity rather than sharing with them any evidence of Christ in us?”… Discussion was over. It was time to ponder it all while watching the next segment of the presentation.

"Price tags.........................."

Rummaging through my closet awhile back, I found an old journal began in January 2001, but abandoned June 28th that same year. Each page contains a devotional for that day, some sort of trivial anecdote followed by a question posed to be answered. Why should I have renewed the task in an effort to complete the volume a decade later is beyond me, but one entry in July gave me pause yesterday. Referring to an item in Ripley’s “Believe It or Not”, the writer pointed to an iron ingot being valued at no more than $5 as it was, but if fashioned into a pair of horseshoes, its worth rose to $50, if formed into sewing needles the amount jumped to $5000, and if made into balance springs for exquisite Swiss watches - the bar would bring $500,000! His point with such illustration, however, was to suggest that it was just the same with believers who would develop their talents, abilities, and spiritual gifts as a force for divine good in this world; but I would beg to differ… It is not our individual potentials that distinguish us in the eyes of God. Rather it is our willingness to be used of Him in whatsoever capacity He might require of us, for whatsoever commitment He might determine. While His calling may well be, as the apostle Paul declares in Romans, without repentance, nothing is necessarily permanent therein, in so far as any particular assignment. I’ve known far too many, along the way in this, who seemed to think the pulpit to be their only ministry, any other need beneath their dignity…….

"Insanity............................"

Sunday afternoon I watched the final portion of a ten disc DVD series on WWII as fought in the Pacific. It was Hollywood, not some documentary, too full of profanity to suit my tastes, but probably very close to what being in battle was like, enough to make you think you were right there on the island with them. It wasn’t the gore that held me, though. Watching soldiers die in various form and fashion is not my idea of entertainment. The human spirit, however, life as it is, does tend to stir my thoughts; and there was plenty of that within the cold hard facts of this one: men trying to make sense out of what seemingly had no rhyme or reason to it, death no respecter of persons, fear holding one’s breath in check, one’s actions merely an engrained response to lessons learned. One might examine the universe in its infinity and be in awe of its wonder, its beauty; but man’s inhumanity unto man leaves us empty, wounded in the truth of what we are on either side of that condition. Void of any connection with the One who created us in the first place, all things, including our own existence, begin to lose their significance. Day by day drifting without Him will eventually get us there, but the horror of armed conflict is an immediate examination of the soul…..