A Blog for Friday, July 22

I finally got around to watching the Lawrence Olivier adaptation of Hamlet from 1948. I bought the movie some time ago when Borders was going out of business and got it for 50% off.

It was worth the wait. The acting was, of course, fantastic, but my favorite part was the cinematography. The dark and gloomy castle setting almost felt like a character in its own right, and the black and white photography brought out the impending sense of foreboding and doom that foreshadowed the entire film.

My favorite line is the last line spoken– “Farewell, sweet prince, and flights of angels sing thee to thy rest.” It gets me every time.

Of course, my favorite part of Friday is sleeping in the next day. Not having to set the alarm on my phone for 5:15 am? Priceless. Knowing that I will wake up with a sleeping and very contented cat on the pillow next to me? Even better.

Lately, I love my sleep even more if possible. Ever since my mild case of pneumonia, I tend to get tired more quickly and not have quite as much energy as before. Hopefully, that will soon remedy itself.

I’ve never been more disturbed and concerned about the current political situation than I am for this upcoming election. I’ve never been less impressed with the two major political candidates for President. Maybe this will be the year that a third party shakes things up a bit and causes both the Democrats and Republicans to take some hard looks in the mirror about their own parties.

I still love my Mac. My only regret is not taking the plunge back in 2012 when I thought they were overpriced and not worth the extra moolah. They were and are. This laptop is so much better than my Sony Vaio.

God is still great, life is still good, and grace is still very much what I need the most.

The end.

 

All Is Still Grace


That’s it. At the end of the day, all is still grace.

That breathing in and breathing out thing you’re still doing? Grace.

Being able to see and hear and touch and feel and smell and live? Grace.

That job that you go to every day and the car you drive in to get there? Grace.

The food in your belly and the pillow beneath your head at night? Grace.

Karma is you getting what’s coming to you. Grace is you getting what you never expected in a million years and never counted on because you knew you didn’t deserve it.

Waking up tomorrow to a new sunrise and new mercies? Grace.

 

Reminders from Uncle Mikey

I’m laying in bed next to a very sleepy geriatric cat. That’s what I call the good life. It has nothing at all to do with what follows, but I thought I’d throw that little tidbit in for free. You’re welcome.

I’ve been thinking a lot about last night’s Kairos. It started off with a blown generator and a bunch of us sitting in the dark. That always makes for an interesting evening.

It also marked the triumphant return of Mike Glenn to Kairos as guest speaker. It felt like old times again.

He talked about how while each of us have given names at birth, we all have names that either we’ve given ourselves or we’ve been given by others. These names are usually the result of our mistakes and failures. I’m sure many of us have names that involve profanity of some sort.

The prime example is the possessed man among the tombstones who identified himself as Legion. There were so many competing voices in his head that he couldn’t find his own identity anymore.

When Jesus calls someone, He gives that person a new name. Think of Paul becoming Saul, or Simon becoming Peter. He gives us a name that describes not who we are but who we are becoming, our very best self that Jesus is in the process of bringing about.

You are not your worst mistakes. You are not the names people called you before they wrote you off as hopeless. You are not your addictions or your fears.

You are who Jesus says you are. You are Chosen, Beloved, Son or Daughter, Friend.

You have a name that only Jesus knows that one day He will reveal to you. One day, He will write it on a white stone and give it to you. Then and only then will your story make complete sense and you will see how everything in your life has led to you becoming who Jesus always meant you to be.

Thanks, Uncle Mikey, for another good and timely word. Do come back to Kairos soon.

 

To E. G.

I confess I hadn’t thought about you in a while until tonight. I sat across from someone at Chick-fil-A who reminded me sharply of you.

I hope you’re doing well these days. I imagine that you’re married, maybe with a kid or two. I hope that you’ve found a career where you’re successful and are able to make a difference in the world around you.

I’m beyond thankful that God put you in my life for a season. You encouraged and blessed me more than you probably will ever know. The time you told me that you read my blogs still ranks as one of my all-time favorite surprises.

I will always think of you whenever I get those grape-stuffed leaves from Kalamata’s. I will always think of you whenever I think about The Mall at Green Hills and the time we  walked through that place without any idea of where we were going.

If it’s God’s will for me to marry, I hope she’s a lot like you. You are one of those rare people who make life better just by your being in it.

I doubt that I will ever see you again this side of heaven, but just know that if you’re ever back in the Nashville area, there’s an open seat at the Starbucks in Green Hills with your name on it.

God bless you, friend.

 

My Deepest Awareness

“When I get honest, I admit I am a bundle of paradoxes. I believe and I doubt, I hope and get discouraged, I love and I hate, I feel bad about feeling good, I feel guilty about not feeling guilty. I am trusting and suspicious. I am honest and I still play games. Aristotle said I am a rational animal; I say I am an angel with an incredible capacity for beer.
To live by grace means to acknowledge my whole life story, the light side and the dark. In admitting my shadow side I learn who I am and what God’s grace means. As Thomas Merton put it, ‘A saint is not someone who is good but who experiences the goodness of God.’

The gospel of grace nullifies our adulation of televangelists, charismatic superstars, and local church heroes. It obliterates the two-class citizenship theory operative in many American churches. For grace proclaims the awesome truth that all is gift. All that is good is ours not by right but by the sheer bounty of a gracious God. While there is much we may have earned–our degree and our salary, our home and garden, a Miller Lite and a good night’s sleep–all this is possible only because we have been given so much: life itself, eyes to see and hands to touch, a mind to shape ideas, and a heart to beat with love. We have been given God in our souls and Christ in our flesh. We have the power to believe where others deny, to hope where others despair, to love where others hurt. This and so much more is sheer gift; it is not reward for our faithfulness, our generous disposition, or our heroic life of prayer. Even our fidelity is a gift, ‘If we but turn to God,’ said St. Augustine, ‘that itself is a gift of God.’

My deepest awareness of myself is that I am deeply loved by Jesus Christ and I have done nothing to earn it or deserve it” (Brennan Manning, The Ragamuffin Gospel: Good News for the Bedraggled, Beat-Up, and Burnt Out).

Occasionally, I like to bring in special guest writers. By that, I mean that I am too tired (and/or lazy) to do my own writing and I quote from a writer who expresses my own thoughts better than I ever could ( with the lone exception about having an incredible capacity for beer, which I do not). This is why I named by blog The Ragamuffin Gospel.

I’m Dreaming of a Crisp Autumn

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I think I have been sweating non-stop since June. It’s been that hot. I believe that I am less tolerant of the heat than before, if that’s even possible.

What that means is this. I am officially ready for fall. I am officially and categorically and emphatically over summer. At least the 90+ degree weather part. And the 90% humidity.

I am ready for flannel and caramel apple spice. I’m ready for jackets and hot chocolate. I’m ready for crisp autumn breezes and leaves changing colors on the trees. I am ready to not sweat so much all the time. I’m ready for autumn.

I realize that I can’t realistically expect autumn temperatures until probably at least mid-October. I can dream of an early cool spell in August or September where the highs are in the 80’s instead of the 90’s. Maybe even the 70’s.

I suppose in the meantime I can watch movies like When Harry Met Sally that are set primarily during the autumn season. I can pray without ceasing that the air conditioning never goes out.

Only 65 more days until autumn (for those who are counting). Like me.

 

Everything Is Mine in You

I heard this song at The Church at Avenue South recently and the words impacted me powerfully. I dedicate this to anyone who is still waiting on a promise from God and who grows weary in the waiting:

“Everything is mine in You
Even when my heart is breaking
Everything is mine in You
Even when my hands are empty
Everything is mine in You
Oh, in You

Everything is mine in You
I can trust You with my longing
Everything is mine in You
Even though the road is lonely
Everything is mine in You
Oh, in You

‘Cause You are, master over all
And You say, You are my inheritance
And in You, I have everything I need
And You are, seated in the heavenlies
And You say, forever You’re my hiding place
And in You, I have everything I need” (Christy Nockels, Ellie Holcomb).

Though all the lonely seasons and through all the heartaches, you and I still have everything we need in Jesus. We are still whole and complete in His sufficiency, no matter what. That’s what we hold onto when that proverbial road gets hard to walk and the struggles seem never-ending.

The story never ends with broken hearts. The story never ends with waiting. The last line in every narrative is this– Jesus is enough. Jesus will always be enough.

That’s enough for me.

 

Two Kinds of Love

“There are two kinds of love: we love wise and kind and beautiful people because we need them, but we love (or try to love) stupid and disagreeable people because they need us. This second kind is the more divine because that is how God loves us: not because we are lovable but because He is love, not because He needs to receive but He delights to give” (C. S. Lewis).

This is why I’m not a fan of karma. Karma says that you get what’s coming to you. That’s it. No discussion. Side note: I notice that a lot of people are wishing karma on everybody else but want and expect grace for themselves when they screw up. I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work that way.

But what if I don’t want what’s coming to me? What if I know that at times I’ve been stupid and disagreeable?

The secret is to treat others like you yourself want to be treated? The key is to love others like God has loved you.

Of course, none of us ever come close to that perfect standard of God’s love. Most of the time, we do good to love those who love us. We do less well with those who annoy us.

Still, the more God’s love has its way in us, the more we are able to love those who can’t reciprocate that love, who can’t repay our kindnesses. The more we become like Jesus the more we love those disagreeable people (sometimes without even realizing it).

It all starts when you really and truly believe that God loves you as you are and not as you should be. God loves you no matter what. You can’t do anything to make Him love you more and you certainly can’t do anything that will cause Him to love you less.

The more you believe that, the more your love looks like His.

 

Revisiting An Old Franciscan Benediction

I posted something similar to this a few years back, but in light of recent events I thought this might be a good time to bring it back for an encore. This is from an old Franciscan benediction that should be our prayer in the days and weeks and months ahead:

“May God bless us with discomfort at easy answers, half-truths, and superficial relationships, so that we may live deep within our hearts.

May God bless us with anger at injustice, oppression, and exploitation of people, so that we may work for justice, freedom and peace.

May God bless us with tears to shed for those who suffer from pain, rejection, starvation and war, so that we may reach our hands to comfort them and turn their pain into joy.

And may God bless us with enough foolishness to believe that we can make a difference in this world, so that we can do what others claim cannot be done.”

There’s nothing I need to add to that. Except amen.

 

Feeding the Multitudes: Inspired by Tonight’s Kairos Message

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Jesus said something that struck me as a bit odd during the account of the first feeding of the 5,000. When the disciples asked how they were to feed all the multitudes who had followed Jesus, Jesus said to them, “You feed them.”

On the surface, it seems strange that Jesus should ask such a monumental task of 12 men to feed what probably amounted to 20,000 people (counting women and children). Why would Jesus ask that?

I think what Jesus wanted was their willingness to sacrifice whatever they held in their hands for the work of Jesus. In this case, it was two fishes and five loaves given to them by a small boy. It was at the same time a sacrifice and a confession of woeful inadequacy.

That was what Jesus blessed and multiplied to minister to the many.

In this day and age, many of us are praying for peace. We ask that Jesus step in and make peace by bringing unity to the racial tensions and strife.

Jesus says to us in turn, “You go and make peace.”

“How?” we ask.

“What do you have in your hand?” Jesus asks us.

“Not much. Not nearly enough to accomplish reconciliation. But whatever I have is Yours. I give it to You.”

What Jesus is looking for in us isn’t extraordinary ability but unconditional availability. What He asks from us isn’t great acts or passionate speeches. What He asks for from us is our very selves.

That’s where the miracle begins.