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Posts Tagged ‘Paul’

This phrase about grieving the Holy Spirit has always jumped out at me. Reverend Spurgeon said, back in 1859, that causing grief touches even the hardest hearts. But today, for the first time, I linked the cause directly to my mouth.

Ephesians 4:29-30a
Do not let any unwholesome talk come out of your mouths, but only what is helpful for building others up according to their needs, that it may benefit those who listen. And do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God . . .

This revelation really clenches it for me: I must include “unconscious talking” into my fast.

I can just imagine the Holy Spirit within me, covering ears and thinking, “I can’t believe she really said that!” And then, crying. Doesn’t crying go along with grief?

Sometimes, there is anger too, and disappointment. There is helplessness in grief, because there isn’t much one can do to change the situation. And with grief, there is pain.

When a person is sorrowing, it is because of loss. And in that loss, there is love. But it’s love that is cut off, stopped, quenched, unresolved, blocked. . . for whatever reason.

So, whenever I speak out-of-hand, or gossip, or judge, there is a loss that happens there too. I am inching further away from my center where the Holy Spirit dwells. And the Holy Spirit is calling, reaching out to me, warning me, crying for me, whispering to me, but I am too focused on the outpouring.

Unlike fasting from food, which is relatively easy since the body is pretty good about reminding me about three to four times a day, “Hey, didn’t you forget something? Food! I need food!” But to fast from blabbing is more difficult. There won’t be any help for this one. It will be about mindfulness. It will be about “practicing the presence” of God. It will be about thinking before I speak. It will be about slowing down. It will be about listening.

And maybe, just maybe, if I can submit to this discipline, even for a short while, I will hear the angels singing after all.

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Here’s an idea: every time I tell a lie, it does harm to the Body of Christ. That Body requires truth. And anything less diminishes it. Either I have a corporate corporeal responsibility or not. I’ve managed to minimalize the impact. It’s so big after all. Well, time to think again.

Ephesians 4:25
Therefore each of you must put off falsehood and speak truthfully to your neighbor, for we are all members of one body.

Another image that comes to mind is one of those psychology experiments in college where small electric shocks are given to someone else based on the subject’s (my) answers or failures (or whatever the testing might entail). If I could see or feel the impact on this “Body,” would I act differently? If I had a chart of the body and every time I sinned or lied or cheated, a red dot representing pain in some other region or area of the Body would light up. Would I stop?

I know that’s silly, but really, am I a unique part of this larger Body or not? And does my place in it make any difference?

Telling the truth is the hardest of all really. I lie with my lips and I lie in my mind. I lie to others (sometimes masked in halves or exaggeration) and I lie to myself.

Sometimes, I get another crazy picture in my head like I’m standing at the “pearly gates” and, as I have been forewarned [Romans 14:12], I begin to give an account of my life. When I get to the lies part of the list, It’s so long, I end up in some kind of purgatory (waiting tank) after all.

Have I placed ALL the lies under the covering of the blood sacrifice? Have I stopped telling them? Really?

I will probably never get very good at the “not telling lies” part. Some of this is my quick mouth and some of it is the way I think and blab at the same time. I sometimes don’t even “hear” something until I say it. This leaves on option for me: silence. Not speaking. Also difficult, but probably a better choice for the sake of the Body.

I am planning another fast. I do these on occasion but this time, it’s as a result of my previous days’ revelations about the superficiality of the “old self” and the power of sensuality to rule. I’m thinking that food and unrelenting appetite fit into the same drama (not just sexuality and violence). And today, I can add lies and too much talking into the mix. Can I fast from so much talking? Something to consider.

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Photo by Mark Dodge Medlin

Paul refers to the “old self” as those behaviors, those superficial external actions that cloud and deceive the person within. I think of this old self as wavy glass, that glass we can sometimes see in the windows of historic houses. It’s beautiful in some ways, but truthfully it distorts, both looking as well as looking out.


Ephesians 4:22-24a
You were taught, with regard to your former way of life, to put off your old self, which is being corrupted by its deceitful desires; to be made new in the attitude of your minds; and to put on the new self, . . .

Wavy glass is transparent enough to be able to see what is on the other side, it’s just not clear. There are people all around me who are presenting this distorted self, yet unaware that they are doing it. With just a little extra effort, I could see the truth of what is there, just no detail.

It is not for me to break the glass, as though I know best because I am in relationship with the Christ. I think it better to say, “I see you” through acceptance and understanding and patience. Too often, I look at behaviors and appearance and language and thereby “write off” the other. Jesus was our model here: eating and drinking with “sinners.”

Jesus was/is clear glass. Everyone could see inside. That was the draw, the attraction.

I wish I could say that I was clear glass. But I’m getting better. Slowly. It’s a process.

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Here’s what happens when someone doesn’t do his/her part in a volunteer organization: other people have to work harder to pick up the slack. Even if it’s a justified slacking, the work remains. That’s the case with tasks, but what about practicing love?

Ephesians 4:16
From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.

Paul spends a lot of time in Ephesians talking about love and unity and maturity and operating in the call of grace. And the upshot here is that this work, this practicing of God’s presence (that is what this is all about), is how the Body of Christ is “built up.” Today’s group of people who are believers and participants in the work of Christ have been asked to become a whole by doing their part: live loved and give love; live in grace and give grace.

The message has not changed over the years, only the people who are here on earth practicing, reflecting, and trusting.

I used to think that doing my part was all the “doings” of a life in Christ like evangelizing or feeding the poor or visiting the sick and imprisoned or reading the bible or praying or going to church. And certainly, these manifestations do happen. The difference is that these “doings” are better as an outgrowth of the core “being” in love and grace.

There are no tick marks for service. There is never a point at which we have “done enough” because the needs will always be greater than the workers to meet them. Even in Jesus’s time, this was true. [John 12:8] We do not get points with God by being inexhaustible Energizer bunnies.

O God, help me do my part today. And out of this part – love and grace – may a soul be touched, a heart opened, a wound healed.

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Sometimes I sound like a broken record as I write these meditations. The same words keep rising to the top of my reading and writing: love, grace, others, and then more love, more grace, and so on. There is no good work, no anointed task, no Christ service, that is not first touched by grace.

Ephesians 4:7, 11-12a
But to each one of us grace has been given as Christ apportioned it. . . . It was he who gave some to be apostles, some to be prophets, some to be evangelists, and some to be pastors and teachers, to prepare God’s people for works of service, . . .

Anything else I do is still, all about me. I tell my teens and now twenty-year-old that the universe does not revolve around their “sun.” But, am I any different really?

Are any of us?

There is a song from the musical, “Dreamgirls,” in which the character, Effie, is dropped from the group and she sings, in between promises from her boyfriend/promoter, “What about me?” “What about what I need?” “What about how I feel?” This song resonated with me during the performance and I know it resonated with anyone who has felt that sense of being cast aside. Where did we miss it? How did we get sucked into this path?

This is still our fear in the face of stepping out on any new trail. Will God really be there? How will I be perceived? What if I fail? What if I am wrong and cast aside again? What if I am missing God?

During today’s sermon, we were asked if we would be willing to “step into the water” while it’s still rushing (based on Joshua 3). Would we step out in faith and trust in the grace?

I have had my share of disappointments in service to God. I’m pretty sure that most of these disappointments came about because I was walking forward with one part of my body while another part was looking back (just to be sure I could get back if I needed to). I always have a fail safe. If this doesn’t work out, I can always . . . [fill in the blank].

On my recent retreat weekend, a woman shared her desire to go into ministry by attending seminary. At first, she tried to do it part-time with the security of her full-time job. But then, she needed to jump in, head to toe. She needed to abandon the way back in order to fully trust the way forward. That is a form of grace.

That is the kind of grace I want to embrace. I think.

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We are asked to cultivate unity by using the “bond of peace.” A bond is something like a rope, handcuffs or Gorilla Glue. It’s a connection, a relationship, a hookup. It’s a union, an agreement, a promise. With these, unity is possible. And without, what do we have? Just watch CNN.


Ephesians 4:3-6
Make every effort to keep the unity of the Spirit through the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit . . . one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

A bond of peace cannot be achieved alone. It takes at least two. Oh, I suppose there is inner peace, but even that comes from an agreement between the mind, soul & spirit. Peace is not achieved by threat, dictatorship or commandment. That is just an absence of conflict. A true bond of peace comes out of mutual desire, love, commitment, and compromise.

There are a couple of people I know from my work who have learned one of the first steps toward creating bonds of peace. One of their distinguishing characteristics is not taking personal offense (even when it’s intended). I watch them in difficult or tense situations and it’s like the verbal attacks or innuendos float across their spirit lakes. They know how to listen fully. They don’t grab onto words or tone of voice and prepare a response ahead of time. They know how to wait. It’s disarming in the best way. In this way, they open a door to unity and understanding.

I want this but I’m not very willing to practice. I confess, I’m always taking offense. I’m always expecting the worst in a situation. I critique the tones, the eyes, the body language and if I come up with an attack assessment, I ready my own arsenal. I’m quick. It doesn’t take long to raise the battle flag.

Unity is all those “ones.” One body, one spirit, one God and so on. Can I let go of mine long enough to enter the One? It begins with small steps, I think. Bonds with family and friends. A peace driven by love.

And so I take a breath today. I take a breath and ask for mindfulness again, to remember, to make peace.

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Not as the world gives power, but as God gives power, what do I get? More paradox. We are brought up in a world of Donald Trumps where power means control, self-aggrandizement, immediacy, and ambition. But Christ modeled something else.

Ephesians 3:20, 4:2
Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, . . . Be completely humble and gentle; be patient, bearing with one another in love.

It’s not as though Jesus couldn’t do dynamic things. He had enough power to do it all. Instead, much of that power was channeled toward a more difficult task: humility and gentleness, patience and loving others unconditionally (with forgiveness–a mark of unconditional love).

We tend to be wired for self-protection. We say, “If I don’t take care of myself, who will?” or “I don’t want to become a door mat” or “How long must I wait?” We keep putting ourselves in the center of our universe.

When it took two years to adopt our daughter, I kept pounding on God’s door asking why it was taking so long and how unfair it was and what had we done wrong? Finally, through a friend, I heard these words: “What makes you think this delay is about you?”

To practice the acts of humility and patience and truly loving, is “other” oriented. It’s passing power to them. It’s letting the overflowing water get others wet. Power is energy and cannot be efficiently constrained. But how amazing, that this energy is passed along through release and not the exertion of force.

Help me get this today. Help me practice opening my hands and heart, releasing the power of the Holy Spirit.

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