Ragamuffin Gospel

Revisiting The Silmarillion

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It’s been a while, but I’m back.

Much like people who revisit familiar places as vacation destinations, I’m going back to revisit a favorite book series of mine, starting with The Silmarillion.

A primer is in order first. The Silmarillion is like Middle Earth 101 (or to risk being a little sacrilegious, the Middle Earth Bible). It starts with the creation of all things and progresses from there.

If you love The Hobbit and The Lord of the Rings, this is where it all started. Literally. J. R. R. Tolkien began working on this manuscript way before The Hobbit and worked on it continuously until he died. His son, Christopher, published it  four years after Tolkien’s death.

It’s not for the faint of heart. It’s Wagnerian in its scope and not quite as warm and friendly as The Hobbit or LOTR. I don’t see how anyone could adapt this into a feature film (though I imagine someone will make an attempt in the near future).

I could have titled this blog post “Yes, I am a Nerd (and Thanks for Noticing).” I don’t mind. I can think of very few who could create such a fully realized reality such as Middle Earth, complete with an assortment of beings who had their own histories and languages. Though Tolkien didn’t intend them as allegories in the strictest sense, you can pull all sorts of inferences from his writings.

For the record, I am a fan of all things Harry Potter and Narnia. I also love the Wrinkle in Time series by Madeleine L’Engle. At least those are the ones that come to mind.

Hopefully, I won’t rush through this time. I want to stop and savor all of Middle Earth. Too bad there’s not a “I went to The Shire and all I got was this lousy t-shirt” t-shirt.

 

I Think It’s About Forgiveness

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I’ve been thinking about forgiveness quite a bit lately, particularly in the context of the story of Joseph and his brothers.

I imagine most of you are probably familiar with the story, but I’ll give a brief summary. Joseph has dreams as a teenager and (unwisely) decides to tell them to his family. That and being the favorite son doesn’t do him any favors.

His brothers end up selling him into slavery (making Joseph the first recorded victim of human trafficking). He winds up in Egypt, where he goes from a slave in Potiphar’s court to wrongful imprisonment to a high-ranking position in the government (thanks in large part to his God-given ability to interpret dreams.

One of the dreams he interprets predicts a coming famine to all the known world. He’s able to prepare by storing up large amounts of grain during a time of plenty, so that Egypt not only has enough to survive but also to sell to neighboring countries.

Some of the people who show up to buy food happen to be those very brothers who sold him in the first place. Joseph is able to see how God used their evil act for good to save a multitude of people, including his own family.

Joseph could have chosen bitterness. Or revenge. He was well within his rights to seek retribution against his brothers. He probably could have even had them killed if he wanted.

People will say that forgiveness is a cop out for the weak. I say forgiveness takes great strength. I will go so far as to say that true forgiveness is impossible without God’s help. As my pastor said recently, forgiveness is releasing the expectation that the other person or persons can fix what they did. That’s hard.

Joseph was able to forgive because of his perspective. He saw how God had been with him time and time again though every stage of his journey from home to Egypt, from son to slave to ruler. Joseph was able to see the bigger picture.

Forgiveness ultimately sees that there is nothing that you’ve done or that has been done to you that God can’t work for good and His glory.

Who do you need to forgive (including yourself)? Who do you need to seek forgiveness from?

I love the image that forgiveness is opening the door to a prison cell to release the prisoner only to discover that that prisoner was you all along.

Forgiveness is a beautiful thing.

 

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.