Friday, December 17, 2010

Numbers of things...

God is not human, that he should lie,
   not a human being, that he should change his mind.
Does he speak and then not act?
   Does he promise and not fulfill?
(Numbers 23:19)

God is not...   We can fill in the end of that sentence if we're ready to admit who we are, what we're like. We are "People of the Lie" as M. Scott Peck pointed out in his book by that title.  To lie is the basic sin act, I think. Perhaps the old traditional list is correct when it names pride, sloth, and the rest as the seven deadly sins, but lying is how those show up.  Lying is the shield those sins strut behind in order to remain anonymous and safe and maintain the illusion that they are clever choices. We lie, but God is not like us.

God does not lie.  There's a lifetime of reflection in that short sentence, isn't there? A modern conversation starter in all visioning meetings, whether in churches, businesses or personal growth groups, begins with this question: what would you do if there were no limitations? Consultants know that we blame our limits for holding us back; we use them as excuses. If we had no limitations, they reason, then we would be free to clarify our goals, we would become all we hope to be, go where we want to go, do what we want to do and finally be satisfied with the experience of living  or working. We would accomplish much more expansive goals. For a few moments, we join in and imagine differently. But would we recognize a limit when we tripped over it?  What really limits our lives? What keeps us from joy, from receiving loving care, from being wasted when we fail, from death itself?  God does not lie.  But we believe legions of lies from other directions and of our own making to justify not trusting him. 

God does not change his mind.  Well, I've met more than a few people who propose to be godly in that way!  Down here, we call that stubbornness.  In God, it's great faithfulness.  What's the difference? The does-not-lie part (see above). Lies squirm and camouflage themselves like chameleons to avoid being discovered.  They stretch themselves thin, hoping to be swept under the rug, unnoticed. Truth is like salt, you can taste it if it's in there. Truth is like strong light shining from a hilltop. Truth has integrity as in the very person of Jesus. Truth doesn't change.

Now comes the quiz on what we've learned. Does he speak and then not act? Does he promise and not fulfill?  It's a no-brainer, as we say. Rhetorical. No need to fill in the blanks. But there's still a large essay question remaining and lots of empty space in which to write your answer. What comes next?  How does knowing this, believing this, now shape your life?

I write.
SH

Sunday, December 12, 2010

Advent 2010

“this will be a sign for you...” (Luke 2:12)


Even a little child knows
that babies should be wrapped in cloths.


So, while the shepherds were wondering
about the angel hosts
and Mary was pondering
what had just happened,
as a little child, I was worrying about that sign,
worrying that these shepherds
might not find him with those directions.


Probably not that many babies were lying in mangers,
even in Bethlehem that night,
even with all the visitors,
I reassured myself.
Yet, wouldn't they have to search a lot of stables?


Couldn't at least one angel go with them,
and hover above the nativity
with a scrolling “Gloria”?
Wouldn't a star be a better sign?
Maybe a comet with a long,
downward-streaking arrow for a tail.
Or shouldn't there be halos, like in the paintings,
so he and his mother would
stand out in the crowd?


No -- even a worried child
suspects that would not do,
suspects that was not what God was doing.


Was it a miracle they found him,
Even 'though he looked like
a regular, little child,
Even 'though he himself
had to be the sign
of what God was doing?


Or, I wondered, 
might it happen again, just that way,
even for a regular little child
looking for what God was doing
on any regular day?


"this child is set...for a sign" (Luke 2:34) SH

Friday, November 5, 2010

Productive

"Let anyone who has an ear listen to what the Spirit is saying to the churches." (Rev. 2.7a)

Working means being productive.  I'm told I have a strong "work ethic."  It's a compliment, I'm sure.  Well, most of the time. We who are seniors do worry that that trait might die off with us. If so, we're being short-sighted, however. Society-wide, if we don't do it ourselves, we demand it.  Push.  Fix.  Make things happen. Get somewhere by the end of the day. Get to the point!

And, yet, if we pick up and read God's words with this working-agenda, which we see as virtuous, we forfeit something, I think.  We're likely to push past what seems perfunctory, preliminary, or merely preface in order to get right to work, even when our "work" is studying the bible.  With God, however, there are no little words.  Or, perhaps, better, all little words might fall into the category that my Grandma used to describe just as I would be opening a very small birthday present, "Good things come in small packages."  From God, they often do.  And that foresight makes me open such verses with expectancy still.    

That's the way I read the opening phrase in the verse above. I believe it is our Lord's hope -- our Lord's call -- our Lord's heartfelt desire that anyone who has an ear will particularly listen to this.  Let anyone who wants to put his or her ears to work as they were intended to be utilized, be alerted to this: to what the Spirit is saying to the churches.

What is the Holy Spirit saying to the churches?  It strikes me as I type that that isn't an open-ended question.  It isn't a question to which we should respond immediately drawing from what we already know or speculate about, based on our best judgment or what we hope for.  But neither is it a rhetorical question.  It has an answer.  The way to discover that answer is to do what our Lord says.   To listen.  Not to read on rapidly without pause or deliberation.  Not to pass judgment on all the others who obviously "need" to hear this lesson.  But to listen humbly to the words that sound forth from these pages, to let them take voice and speak to us.  All of us who are the churches.  The Church, with a capital C.   The left.  The right.  The mainstream.  The fringe.  All with ears. Many of us flawed and divided by what we've been listening to instead. 

I'm thinking this little word-package might contain a prayer.  What do you think?
Much Grace,
SH