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Posts Tagged ‘Jesus’

Body Seed

Posted in Ordinary Time, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on June 30, 2010| Leave a Comment »

Had some fun this morning thinking of my body as a seed being prepared for planting. Each seed is different. Each seed has its own characteristics and with each 3-D life event, the seed is affected (both good and bad). Each seed then creates a “plant” — a new entity.

I Corinthians 15:36b-37
What you sow does not come to life unless it dies. When you sow, you do not plant the body that will be, but just a seed, perhaps of wheat or of something else.

It never occurred to me before that a resurrected entity would have as much diversity (or more) than these human bodies we now have.

Really, until Jesus “revealed” himself to the disciples after resurrection, they didn’t really recognize him. He had to manifest something they could understand: the nail-driven hands and feet, the pierced side. But they certainly didn’t recognize his clothes or his features at first.

What else don’t we recognize? They say we “see what we want to see.” We see what we expect to see. For all we know, the resurrected guys are walking around among us. I’m just sayin’…

In the parable of the sower and the seed, the success of the seed had a great deal to do with environment and circumstances. Some of this environment we cannot control initially (caustic families, poverty, etc.) but as we mature, we are presented with more choices. We can actually seek change. We can look for good soil. The human seed does not have to be passive. And apparently, when a bunch of seeds get together they can really transform circumstances.

I know these are just flights of fancy, but word pictures are important because I cannot really fathom anything about this “other” world I have called “heaven” all my life. It’s not just a place . . . it’s a state of being.

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My Baptism; His Resurrection

Posted in Ordinary Time, tagged , , , , on June 29, 2010| Leave a Comment »

I understand there are tons of people who argue endlessly about the need for water baptism, the type of baptism, and the reasons for baptism. All I know, there is significant symbolism in the coming out of the water with intended resurrection. It’s a powerful image. I remember my baptism clearly.

I Corinthians 15:29
Now if there is no resurrection, what will those do who are baptized for the dead? If the dead are not raised at all, why are people baptized for them?

I was still in my first year of faith in New York City. I continued to resist all trappings of Christianity. I feared, above all, that I would lose all of my former friends and somehow become a “geek.” I definitely didn’t want to attend a church. Finally, my friend convinced me to at least “try” his church on 62nd Street that had a 3:30 pm service. That sounded humane.

But nothing could have prepared me for one of the most bizarre experiences ever (in that point of my faith walk). I had never seen Pentecostals in action, from the beehive hairdo’s (late 70’s) to the full orchestra playing hand-clapping hymns to the manifestation of the “gifts” like tongues and the plentiful “Praise the Lord’s.” You would think I would have turned around and left immediately. But it was just so different from anything I had ever known. I became intrigued and mesmerized. And then the pastor, who seemed about 100 years old then, but of course, he couldn’t of have been since he was there some twenty years later. He had an amazing gift for bringing the scripture to life and, in the end, I stayed to learn from him.

In addition to the afternoon service, I discovered the church actually had three separate services on Sunday and a service every night of the week. That’s right, EVERY night except Monday. There were no duplicate services either and generally, the assumption was that everyone would attend. This was their life. The weekday services were usually led by evangelists or missionaries from around the world. And somehow, after a few months, and the determination of my friend, I agreed to be baptized by one of the upcoming evangelists one weekday evening when they were holding baptisms.

It turned out that the man was from the south and I almost died when I saw him–like walking out from the pages of Elmer Gantry, he had long yellow white hair that fell in his face, a booming voice, and a southern drawl that begged to be mocked. If I hadn’t invited four or five friends to “witness” my immersion, I would have backed out immediately. He was my worst nightmare.

I survived. I had to wear a little white gown thing over my underwear (we were instructed to bring dry replacements) and we (there were six or seven of us) stepped into the baptismal font one by one with the music and singing blaring. All I really remember is his eyes. He looked at me intently and quietly said, just to me, “Are you ready?” And like a flash, everything I thought I knew or expected, fell away. He wasn’t Elmer Gantry, he wasn’t funny or weird or anything else. He was a message. All I could answer was simply, “I am.” And a minute later, I was wet and out of the water and smiling. Turning point.

I never saw that evangelist again. And that night, I will never forget.

The simple question is still there. Am I ready? All of it happens in just a second, the change, from one state to another, from dry to wet, from death to spirit, from darkness to light, from ambivalence to certainty, from death to life.

To resurrect, something has to die. When the phoenix resurrects, it’s always the same afterward. But in true resurrection, out of the death, comes something new.

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Grace Called Me and Changed Me

Posted in Random Thoughts, tagged , , , , , , , , , , on June 25, 2010| Leave a Comment »

It comes up a lot: grace. It is one of the greatest mysteries of the Christian faith and the least likely to be immediately understood. Grace is a power. Grace is a state of being. Grace is personal and specific. Grace is a gift. And Grace . . . is a change agent.

I Corinthians 15:9-10a
For I am the least of the apostles and do not even deserve to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church of God. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace to me was not without effect . . .

As a believer, I can look back and say that grace has changed me during these years of following after Christ. That would only make sense since it’s all about God’s grace.

But, what about the time before? Can I understand that the really hard times before I accepted Christ were also about grace? Can I understand that losing my father at age nine included grace? Can I accept a bi-polar mother, poverty, loneliness, and a failed first marriage still had the mark of grace?

That is certainly the message of Paul, the great persecutor of the early Christians, a “pharisee of pharisees” [Acts 23:6], he thought he knew it all. He was an insider. And from his perspective, the followers of Jesus were desecrating the law, blaspheming against God, and disrupting a tenuously achieved “order.” He took it as a personal mission to destroy or incarcerate all followers of Christ. He was a righteous champion for God.

In many ways, after his conversion, he was still the same man: a man of passion and conviction. He was relentless before and after meeting Christ on the road to Damascus.

But all the while . . . he was under the banner of grace. And although he would carry the guilt and shame for those years of persecution and would have to face the friends and relatives of those he had killed, he also recognized the call that was there throughout his journey.

I feel the same way really. In the Methodist church, they call it “prevenient grace,” that time when God was putting together all the pieces, manifesting in ways unknown, unrecognizable, and yet, still present. For all of the tough times in my life, I have to admit I was graced with many strengths as well.

I am more like a little terrier dog that will not let go. I have persistence and I have energy. I have hope and I have resilience. These are also gifts of grace that I needed as I slogged through those early years without understanding and with a veil still covering the eyes of my heart.

None of us can assume where someone else is on this journey. God forgive my judgment of others. Help me recognize the hand of grace on them, just like it was on me.

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Heart Laid Bare

Posted in Ordinary Time, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 18, 2010| Leave a Comment »

The right words at the right moment touch the heart and something happens. It can be a moment in a play or a movie, a speech or a book, even a casual conversation or in the midst of instruction. And when that word pierces the inner self, we are changed.

I Corinthians 14:24-25a
But if an unbeliever or someone who does not understand comes in while everybody is prophesying, he will be convinced by all that he is a sinner and will be judged by all, and the secrets of his heart will be laid bare.

I saw this happen some years ago while in a church service. I had a friend who had been struggling with lifestyle decisions. He was like a feather being tossed about, looking for a safe place to land. I invited him to a Vineyard church service in Atlanta (back then, such services were cutting edge and specifically geared for the younger set). After the service, one of the guys asked my friend if a small group could pray for him and my friend agreed. It was during this prayer that someone in the group spoke a “prophecy” over my friend about an impending choice in his life. She told him of his past and his fears. She spoke specifics about his life and my friend’s heart was laid bare. It was the most amazing thing to observe. He knew, in that moment, beyond any doubt, that he had been touched by the divine.

That day is seared into my own memory, not only because of the time in church, but the deep soul searching my friend had the rest of the afternoon. He would go through periods of shaking and crying and even laughing. He would sit silently and then he would talk, deeply and honestly, about his life, his future, his mistakes, his losses, his hopes and his disappointments. He turned a corner that day and for many years, he followed a new dream because of that day.

I remember a different experience, also in my late twenties, when my own heart was ripped wide open. It is not a particularly pleasant memory as it was a searing, rending of emotions that brought me to my knees. I had only been a follower of Christ for about two years when I had a terrible row with a creative, yet highly volatile man, with whom I was trying to build a dance/theater company in New York. His harsh words stripped me bare of any illusions about my craft, my direction, my role. I left our rehearsal and walked the parking lot, sobbing, crying out to God, stripping myself of assumptions, and casting myself at the feet of Christ. That day changed my path forever.

When the heart is truly laid bare, it can happen gently with love or it can happen with wrenching pain. Often, the pain comes from our own efforts to keep the heart’s shield up, to attempt to protect ourselves.

“Lift up your heads, O you gates; be lifted up, you ancient doors, that the King of glory may come in.” [Psalm 24:7] For me, this verse refers to the gates and ancient doors of my heart that must be open to allow the King of glory to come in. I have to trust God will not hurt me. I have to permit entry. And only when my heart is laid bare, the doors open, can I be renewed.

I would like to report that my heart has been open the whole time since that fateful day, but it has not. In fact, each time my heart has been trashed by someone, I tend to add locks and bars to those doors. God forgive me.

Today, I am being called to begin this process once more: the unlocking of doors, the lifting up of gates, the laying bare of my inner heart again. It’s a risk. It’s always a risk. It’s another paradox: to find safety, I must be more vulnerable. So be it.

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Spiritual Languages

Posted in Ordinary Time, tagged , , , , , , , , on June 17, 2010| Leave a Comment »

Tongues, or spiritual languages, are a mystery. Anyone who says they are not, probably hasn’t experienced them. I think it’s intriguing that a person’s spirit can both sing and speak.

I Corinthians 14:15
So what shall I do? I will pray with my spirit, but I will also pray with my mind; I will sing with my spirit, but I will also sing with my mind.

I’m not interested in the controversies of whether to use tongues or not or whether they are a sign of the “baptism of the Holy Spirit” or the arguments that say tongues are “no longer needed in this age.” There are books a plenty that have disgorged on these topics. But I can share something of my own experience.

I came to my faith in Christ in December, 1979. Tom, who introduced me to the Bible and challenged me to read it (which is how I came to that Truth), followed up his introduction in the ensuing months with much talk about the “baptism of the Holy Spirit.” At the time, I had no idea this was not the norm. Since I knew so little about being a follower of Christ, it didn’t seem odd that I wouldn’t know about this either. He said I simply had to ask for it in prayer, and so I did. Nothing happened. Oh well.

Then, about a week later, during prayer (and in those early months, prayer was downright fun), I found myself no longer praying in English but in Latvian, the language I grew up with as a child. Now, that may not seem like a miracle to most people, but anyone who knows about languages, knows it’s a “use or lose” situation. The less one speaks, the less one is able to speak. I had been totally disconnected from my parents’ native language. And yet, here I was, speaking fluently in prayer. I didn’t even care about “tongues” then; this was way better.

After some weeks, I discovered the Latvian was a gift of sorts and with it came a deep healing as I prayed about my father, who never did learn to speak English. Through prayer, I was able to sort out my grief, disappointment, anger, and sense of abandonment at a father who died when I was only nine years old. By praying in Latvian, I was able to speak through God to my father. I forgave my father and clearly heard my God answer, that He would never leave me or forsake me [Hebrews 13:5]. I met “the Father” part of God in a clear and significant way in those first months of my faith journey.

Days after that, the Latvian morphed into one of those mysterious “tongues.” No effort, it just happened and I reveled in it. Only in later months and years did I discover contentiousness about this phenomenon. But I never cared about those who belittled the capability. I had already experienced something authentic and meaningful and nothing would take that away from me. And since it was clear that spiritual languages are for personal growth and devotion, that was all that mattered to me. I am no more or less spiritual because of it and yet it has enriched my prayer life.

I have been in corporate settings where group singing has manifested in tongues. When it was genuine, it was quite lovely and mesmerizing. When it was forced or triggered by the determination of a leader or practiced by tradition, I found it hollow. In any event, it’s not something to be performed. Singing in the spirit is another form of personal prayer.

“. . . the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.” [Romans 8:24]

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Speak! Listen! Speak!

Posted in Ordinary Time, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , on June 16, 2010| Leave a Comment »

Whether it’s speaking, writing, or teaching a class, it’s critical to do so authentically and to check in with the listeners, the readers, the students. Are they getting it? Are we having a conversation? It’s one reason I’ve grown tired of traditional church services: too lopsided. I need dialogue.

I Corinthians 14:11
If then I do not grasp the meaning of what someone is saying, I am a foreigner to the speaker, and he is a foreigner to me.

I think it’s one of the reasons blogs, social networks like Facebook, Twitter, etc. are so popular. People write/talk and someone responds or leaves a comment. It’s like saying, “I hear you. I’m listening.” In some churches, this is accomplished by listener responses: “Amen” and the like, but it’s a primitive exchange. People write books and yes, we assume they love the process, but the real joy is in knowing the books are being read.

Another element is intent. Why does anyone write about God or Christ or faith (or anything else for that matter)? Why do we speak or teach? I’ve always struggled a bit with this question? I mean, there has to be a certain confidence that I have something to say. What is the balance between humility and spunk?

Teaching requires a class. Performing requires an audience. Writing requires readers. We’re back to the old Zen question, “Does a tree make a sound when it falls in the woods if no one hears it?”

Paul writes in verse 6b, “. . . what good will I be to you, unless I bring you some revelation or knowledge or prophecy or word of instruction?” What we say, what we teach, what we write, are the answers, hopefully, to the burning questions in the hearts of the people with whom we want to connect.

Mike and I encountered our favorite pastor some twenty years ago. His sermons were generally compelling but the times we liked best were Sunday nights and Wednesday nights when we could ask our questions, lots and lots of questions. We challenged him and he challenged us. The dialogue was alive and vibrant and unassuming. This was our time of greatest growth and learning.

Was it only because we were younger in our faith or was it the conversation?

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Love Never Fails

Posted in Ordinary Time, tagged , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , on June 14, 2010| Leave a Comment »

Power in the basics. There is such a simplicity to the message: love God, love others. One builds on the other. One is enhanced by the other. And along the way, the love itself creates a momentum for the ages. Love is like energy: it never disappears.

I Corinthians 13:8a, 13
Love never fails. . . . And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.

I know about energy intellectually, but it’s not something I think about every day. Energy is bouncing around us all the time. Energy is transformed from one state to another, always moving, morphing, or actively waiting. And so is love.

This is how love never fails. Love is resilient and creative. Love is strong and gentle. Love is comfortable in the world of paradox.

Love is the most powerful force in the universe. And instead of harnessing it, we have cheapened it with images of Valentine hearts, cupids, and “Precious Moments” figurines. We have allowed love to become sex. We have watered down the strength of love.

But it is still there. Love is still available, because love never fails. Love is not just the words. Love is a space where energy can flow back and forth. I can’t really love pizza, it’s an inanimate object.

God is love [I John 4:8]. God is light [I John 1:5]. God is energy. God cannot be destroyed. To love others is to “god” others.

If we want to introduce God to others, then we’d better start at the ground level with love. And if we’re not sure what that means, then we need to learn I Corinthians 13 by heart, ground it in the heart, move it through the heart: kindness, generosity, patience, humility, caring, calm, soothing, forgiving, unassuming, and contented.

Love is a practice.

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