Ragamuffin Gospel

The Prince of Peace

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“Returning hate for hate multiplies hate, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate, only love can do that” (Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.)

It seems like every time I turn around, there’s more hatred and violence. There’s more racism and division. I know ultimately that it’s not a hate issue or a race issue. It’s a sin issue.

It’s the sin that indwells the hearts of every man, woman, and child. It’s the same sin that indwells my own heart, the sin that causes me to not do what I want and to do what I don’t want to do.

That same sin issue won’t go away by electing the “right” President. It won’t go away by passing the “right” laws or by deporting the “wrong” people.

The answer to all the hate, violence, racism, and division lies within the Prince of Peace, who chose to keep silent in the midst of His own injustice and suffering.

He chose the wrongful death so  that we could live. He chose to bear the weight of my sin and shame so that I wouldn’t have to be a slave to it any longer.

That’s what brings me comfort on nights like these when the world outside seems to have lost its collective mind. There are a lot of talking heads out there offering a lot of different ideas about what can solve the mess we’re in, but only one real solution: Jesus.

The sobering thought is that I am just as sinful and in need of grace as those who shout racist epithets and those who riot and loot. In the deepest part of my heart, I see that same darkness. I see glimpses of what I am capable of apart from the incessant grace of God.

So I’m praying for peace to the Prince of Peace and resting in the promise that the victory over evil has already been won and that one day everything wrong will be made right.

I’m Not Even On Drugs. I’m Just Weird.

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I’m not even on drugs. I’m just weird.

That sums up my day. I’ve been racking my brain for 30 minutes thinking of something noteworthy to write about, but apparently, the literary part of my mind has already called it a night and gone to bed.

I read where having your dog sleep next to you on the bed helps you to sleep better, reduces anxiety and depression, and increases your lifespan. I wonder if sleeping next to snoring cats has the same effect.

I believe that Fall officially starts in two days. For those of us (like me) in Tennessee, that means we have all the pumpkin spice beverages to consume while it’s still at least 90 degrees outside for another month or so.

Still, I’m thankful. I’m grateful for every day of life that I get. I’m appreciative for good health and mobility. The older I get, the less I take these things for granted because the more I know people who didn’t get to wake up this morning and experience the miracle of life.

I highly recommend that you get either a dog or a cat who can sleep next to you in bed. I also recommend partaking in a pumpkin spice beverage at least once during the season. Most of all, I recommend giving thanks every day for at least one good thing, no matter how small. See how that will change your perspective.

 

Examen of Consciousness

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I’m still mulling over that little book, Seven Sacred Pauses by Macrina Wiederkehr. Did I agree 100% with every paragraph and sentence? No. Would I recommend it? Yes, for those with discernment. Did I love it? Yes.

One of the parts that resonated deeply with me was a section called the examen of consciousness, questions to ask yourself at the end of the day to see if you lived deliberately and mindfully instead of simply existing.

These are good questions for each of us to ponder at the close of another Monday:

  • Have I been a good memory in anyone’s life today?
  • Have the ears of my heart opened to the voice of God?
  • Have the ears of my heart opened to the needs of my sisters and brothers?
  • Have the eyes of my heart beheld the Divine face in all created things?
  • What do I know, but live as though I do not know?
  • Have I been a good student of the hours today?
  • How have I affected the quality of this day?
  • Have I been blind or deaf to the blessings of the day?
  • Is there anyone, including myself, whom I need to forgive?
  • When did I experience my heart opening wide today?
  • Have I worked with joy or drudgery?
  • Have I waited with grace or with impatience?
  • What is the one thing in my life that is standing on tiptoe crying, “May I have your attention please?” What needs my attention?” (Macrina Wiederkehr, Seven Sacred Pauses)

Hopefully, someone has asked you one or more of these questions today. All of us need at least one person to hold us accountable and not let us off with pat answers to the tough questions. We all need someone who will call us out on our crap and who will hold us up to being our very best selves.

Next, I think I’ll tackle reading through The Silmarillion by J. R. R. Tolkien yet again. Wish me luck.

Praying Over the World

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Sitting on the front row at The Church at Avenue South, I had a thought totally unrelated to the sermon from Genesis 45. Yes, I paid attention to the message about Joseph and his brothers and the need for reconciliation and forgiveness.

I was thinking about my friend, John Paul, lying in the ICU in Memphis. I may not be able to go to him in person, but I believe strongly that when I am interceding that I am just as present in that room.

It’s a mind-blowing concept that you can reach places through prayer that you’ve never seen with your own two eyes and you can connect with fellow believers that you might never meet in person on this side of heaven.

It’s feasible to me that when we do arrive in heaven, our impact will have been greater than we ever could have imagined. All those nights spent on our knees interceding for those missionaries halfway across the world will not have been in vain.

I truly believe that those we prayed for will have felt the presence of our prayers in those overwhelming moments. Maybe they will sense that we were with them in spirit, if not in the flesh, to agree with them in prayer.

I don’t make any claims to infallibility and I may be speculating more than just a little bit here, but I do believe that we may never physically get to all the places where the unreached people groups live, but we can go in spirit through prayer and intercession.

We can be near those who are hurting and dying through the gift of intercessory prayer, just as surely as the God to whom we pray is there.

Most importantly, the God who heals and answers prayer is there. The Holy Spirit who is interceding for both the one who prays and the one who is prayed for is there. Jesus, who ever lives to intercede for us before God in heaven, is there.

That’s what really matters.

 

No News Is Good News

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I didn’t do much of anything all day today. Sometimes that is a good thing.

I avoided all the craziness around people who are freaking out over an alleged gas shortage due to a busted pipeline and creating an actual gas shortage. I stayed home all day.

I finished up The Walking Dead season 6 with a little bit of time to spare before the kickoff of season 7 on October 16. I also wrapped up The Wonder Years, which left me feeling supremely warm and nostalgic (even if the ending felt a little tacked-on and less than satisfying).

I cooked pizza in the oven with the cardboard still on. I suppose that makes me my mother’s son after all. You just can’t get away from genetics. I suppose that means that I’m not adopted after all.

I got lots of quality therapy time with my geriatric teenaged cat who has morphed into the world’s best lap cat and all-around cat-napper.

I still like to go out and have spontaneous adventures. I will still be periodically embarking on my tour of all things downtown Franklin. I do plan on getting out and about when fall descends and the weather gets crisp.

But today I stayed home. I slept late and did practically nothing all day. It was great.

 

A Praying Life

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“God also cheers when we come to him with our wobbling, unsteady prayers. Jesus does not say, “Come to me, all you who have learned how to concentrate in prayer, whose minds no longer wander, and I will give you rest.” (Paul Miller, A Praying Life).

I’m not very good at prayer. Whenever I’m alone at the end of the day and I go to pray, I find that my mind can’t be still. Instantly, it’s like 15 televisions and 15 radios come on and start playing in my head, and I can’t get any of them to shut off.

I find that I pray in snippets, then my mind wanders off on a tangent (or I see something shiny), then I rein myself back in, then my mind wanders off again. I think my mind is like a toddler who won’t sit still.

The beautiful reminder for me is that even those awkward moments of silence are prayers. Those moments when we are desperately seeking the right words to pour out our conditions before God are  prayers. The groans and sighs that go too deep for words are prayers, because the Holy Spirit is inside us interceding for us and interpreting what not even we can decipher from all our jumbled thoughts.

When prayer becomes less about getting our laundry list of wants and needs before God and more about sitting at His feet, we are closer than ever to getting the whole prayer thing right. Even in those times when we don’t feel like we are even praying at all– just sitting in silence, away from the noise of life.

What’s important isn’t so much how well we pray or even how we pray but that we pray. As much as I’d like to get to the place where I can spend hours upon hours on my knees in prayer, spending any time with God whenever you get the chance is a win.

“What do I lose when I have a praying life? Control. Independence. What do I gain? Friendship with God. A quiet heart. The living work of God in the hearts of those I love. The ability to roll back the tide of evil. Essentially, I lose my kingdom and get his. I move from being an independent player to a dependent lover. I move from being an orphan to a child of God” (Paul E. Miller, A Praying Life).

A Good Night: Special Wednesday Edition

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“Oh me! Oh life! of the questions of these recurring,
Of the endless trains of the faithless, of cities fill’d with the foolish,
Of myself forever reproaching myself, (for who more foolish than I, and who more faithless?)
Of eyes that vainly crave the light, of the objects mean, of the struggle ever renew’d,
Of the poor results of all, of the plodding and sordid crowds I see around me,
Of the empty and useless years of the rest, with the rest me intertwined,
The question, O me! so sad, recurring—What good amid these, O me, O life?

                                       Answer.
That you are here—that life exists and identity,
That the powerful play goes on, and you may contribute a verse” (Walt Whitman, O Me! O Life!).

I did an abbreviated personal tour of Franklin this evening, hitting up all the usual haunts — McCreary’s Irish Pub, St. Paul’s Episcopal Church, and Frothy Monkey.

The reason I chose Wednesday for my tour is simple: I had a ticket to a singer-songwriter benefit concert for Preston Taylor Ministries. The main four were Barry Dean, Natalie Hemby, Luke Laird, and Lori McKenna.

I was already smitten by the music of Lori McKenna going in to the concert, but I was floored by all of them. These are people who know how to write good songs.

On a side note that has absolutely nothing to do with anything else in this post, I figured out one of the main reasons I can’t abide the current country music scene. Most of the songs are about as authentic as the fake twang that a vast majority of artists in the country music industry seem so fond of these days. I know I’m an old fogey. Get over it.

Still, it’s always a pleasure to witness four of the top songwriters doing what they do best. Generally speaking, I’ve found that it’s always a joy to see any kind of task done well by experts who love what they do, no matter what the field.

That’s what a watching world needs from you. They need to see you doing something that makes you come alive (to borrow from something Howard Thurman said), something that you are uniquely gifted to contribute– your verse to the great ongoing play of history.

 

Finding Your Calm

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More than ever, it seems there is so much upheaval and turmoil in the world. I find that some days there is more sadness than one can bear.

Today, I’m thinking about a pastor that I greatly admire and respect who recently resigned from his pastorship of 14 years, confessing that he was running on empty, burned out, and broken.

I’m also thinking of a friend of mine who was involved in a horrific head-on car accident that has left him in the ICU with multiple broken bones and internal bleeding.

If you let it, the sadness and pain can be overwhelming. The frenetic pace of the world can be exhausting with no rest in sight.

That’s why there needs to be a place of sanctuary in your life.

It doesn’t have to be a physical location. It can be a place in your mind where you go to be reminded that your true identity is not what you do, where you live, how you dress, or how much money you make. It’s the name Jesus has given you and the benedictions He is speaking over you.

I read recently that we need to believe the truth about ourselves, no matter how beautiful it is. Our great worth comes in bearing the image of God and being the Beloved ones of our Abba Father, who was not willing that we should perish, but that we should have eternal life.

Sin continues to distort our perception of our identity. There continues to be rampant evil and unnecessary suffering in the world. The tyranny of the urgent continues to distract and deter us from greater works that will echo long after we’re gone.

That’s why it’s necessary to find a place of solitude where we can hear the voice of the Eternal who existed long before the original sin and will be long after evil and suffering have ceased to be.

 

The Liturgy of the Hours: A Beautiful Prayer

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I finished The Seven Sacred Pauses by Macrina Wiederkehr and ran across this beautiful prayer that I had to share with you:

“Dear Artist of the Universe, Beloved Sculptor, Singer, and Author of my life, born of your image I have made a home in the open fields of your heart. The magnetic tug of your invitation to grow is slowly transforming me into a gift for the world. Mentor me into healthy ways of living.
—Help me remember to pause.

Make of me a faithful vigil in the heart of darkness, I want to be a sentinel through all the dark hours. When the deep darkness falls, let me be your star. Name me One Who Watches Through the Night. Reveal to me the holiness of lingering with mystery. Employ me in the holy art of waiting.
—O teach me to live with a vigilant heart.

Make of me a dawn. Let me be a small voice of joy, rising with the sun. Color me with sunrise. Let me be your awakening first light of new day. Make me a joyful, unexpected surprise in the lives of many, an everlasting birthday. I want to be your goodness rising, your grace poured forth in every hour. Name me Dawn, sweet beginning of every day, gift for a sleepy world.
—O make of me a rising dawn.

Make of me a midmorning blessing. As you breathe me into this day, let me become your breath. Transform me into early morning sun, bright with potential and possibility. Let me be your love made visible. Sing through me in the mid-morning hours. Make me your musical instrument.
—Strum a melody of blessing with my life.

Make me your noonday sun, bright with passion, on fire with truth, enduringly courageous. Let me be light for the world. Create in me a nonviolent heart. O let me be your heart. Help me believe the truth about myself no matter how beautiful it is. Let me be the peace for which I pray. Teach me to energize others, to stir up their enthusiasm without overwhelming them.
—Make my power to love stronger than my love of power.

Make of me a midafternoon shadow that I may soften the intensity of the sun. Let me be shade. Robe me with wisdom. Enable me to be at home with impermanence. Teach me the dance of surrender. O make of me a great letting go. May the sacred emptiness of my life help others to know fullness. May I never fear a death that brings me life.
—Let me rejoice in the harvest of each dying day.

Make of me a twilight: wake of color, trail of glory. In the evening of life transform me into a song of gratitude. I want to be an evening star for those who have lost their way. I want to be beauty at the end of each day. On my pilgrimage through the day, write mystery stories with my life. Out of my faithful attendance to the hours pour forth the incense of your praise.
—Transform me into a song of gratitude.

Make me your holy darkness, your blessed night. Transform me into a great silence that drowns out distracting noises. Fashion me into one who sees with the eyes of the soul. I long to be a protective mantle of comforting darkness for all who need rest. Give me insight into the Holy Mystery that cradles me through the night.
—O make of me your night prayer.

Help me to remember to pause on my daily pilgrimage through the hours. Teach me to live with a vigilant heart. Make of me a rising dawn. Strum a melody of blessing with my life. Make my power to love stronger than my love of power. Let me rejoice in the harvest of each dying day. Transform me into a song of gratitude. Make of me your night prayer. Enfold me in the circle of your Time-Enduring-Now, even as it was in the beginning  and shall be forever. Amen.”

PS I highly recommend this book. You can pick it up at Amazon by following this link.

Regret

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Since this morning’s sermon at The Church at Avenue South from Aaron Bryant, I’ve been thinking about the story of Joseph in the Old Testament a lot today. More specifically, my thoughts have been centered on Joseph’s brothers.

I’ve always wondered why it was that when his brothers came to Egypt to buy food during the famine that Joseph recognized them but none of them knew who he was.

I realize that he was probably dressed in Egyptian garb and would  have had his hair and beard styled in the Egyptian fashions of that time.

I wonder if one of the reasons he was able to spot them was that they were still stuck in that moment when they made the horrible decision to sell him into slavery over 13 years ago.

Some of you reading this are still stuck in the past. You’re frozen in time in the moment when a relative hurt you or a friend betrayed you or a spouse deserted you. You haven’t been able to move past that moment in time.

Joseph had moved on, both literally and figuratively. By the time his brothers showed up, he had been though slavery, false accusations, imprisonment, and later exaltation. He had seen how God was with him through it all.

He was able to see at the end how God used what his brothers had meant for evil and turned it into something good. In fact, God used what was done to Joseph to set up the salvation of an entire nation in the making.

You come to the place where you release the hurt and pain done to you when you realize how God has redeemed it. When you’re able to forgive those who wounded you, you open the door to the prison and find out that it’s you that you’re setting free.

God still works all things together for good– even the bad and hard things– and that includes your story. That doesn’t excuse what people have done to you and it doesn’t lessen the pain, but it does mean that your wounds and scars are not the end of the story. God has a way of redeeming and restoring what was taken from you and giving you something so much better in return.