SCARCITY

I met a woman who had provided foster care for a few children.

Her name was Marcella.

One of them was a young man who began coming to our church.

He was tall for a 16-year old.  

Taller than I was by a few inches I think.

So maybe 6' 3".

He struggled at first socially, trying to find his place.

(I feel that most of us do, in some way...struggle to find our place)

There was another thing I noticed at meal time.

While we said grace, at summer camp, 

he was subtly and strategically moving the food on the table 

so that it was all within his reach.

Hamburger patties, Buns, salad, French-fries, tomato slices,

ice-water, all were re-located at arm's length to him,

at a table for eight.

Later, I asked his foster-parent about that.

We (my wife and I) were over to Marcella's for dinner one night.

It was just the three of us.

the young man was gone to a school activity.

After asking about the meal time behavior,

she dropped her head and smiled. Then she said, 

"When he first came to our house, it was much more dramatic.  

He pulled everything directly in front of him, and only after he had a first helping of it all, 

was he comfortable for the serving dishes to move to other places on the table.  

I asked his care-worker about it.  She told me that   

when he was younger, only a child, still living at home with his mother, 

before leaving she would pull some food from the fridge or cupboard and leave it on the floor. 

Then she might disappear for days.  

He never knew when she would return, or if she would return.  So, he got used to hoarding 

whatever there was.  I guess that's what you do when you don't trust in something 

consistently being available, you hold whatever you can, as close as you can to you."

I don't think this story really about food, though it obviously touches on that.

There are many, many things that are necessary for us to feel cared for; to trust

that our lives are secure and protected.

When they are absent, 

we form ways to prepare ourselves, 

shield ourselves

for that possibility that we will not have them again.

It could be food,

or shelter,

or trust,

or hope,

or....love...and friendship.

I have never known how to resolve this story, but whenever I think on it, 

it touches me deeply.  Maybe the answer comes to life in these words...

"...No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had...And God’s grace was so powerfully at work in them all that there were no needy persons among them. For from time to time those who owned land or houses sold them, brought the money from the sales and put it at the apostles’ feet, and it was distributed to anyone who had need."

And the cry of these words...https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9kn7E-OauJI&list=RD9kn7E-OauJI&start_radio=1

GOIN' WITH

"I'm goin' with," we said.

And then we clamored into a car heading for a ballgame, 

a movie, 

the lake,

or just to go cruising.

I won't try to define cruising here, other than to say,

it was a "together" experience. :)

And we would share the outcome of that adventure also...

Equally.

There are three men.

Hanging on separate crosses.

Life is slowly ebbing from their bodies.

One will remain angry and choose isolation.

Another is anxious and aware of his just consequences in contrast to the third

man on the cross next to him.

In desperation he asks for connection.

In desperation he asks for connection, 
"...Remember me!" he pleads.

AND in essence, Jesus says to this man, "No worries, you’re with me!”

In other words, Hereafter....you are “metah” (in the greek)

Or WITH.

It means "amid or accompanied by."

He's saying, it’s me AND you going to paradise.

Everyone there will know that we are inseparable.

Bob Benson used to say, “There’s no space between Jesus and me.”
I am his, he is mine.

No longer alone,

In navigating through this life.

Your past doesn't matter.

Your failings are forgotten.

Your future is secure.

Jesus says, 

"You're WITH me."

COMMUNITY

Below are two thoughts about the same idea.

From different times.

From different people.

About ninety years apart.

They both make us ask questions about ourselves.

In a world that is as torn as ours, can we be woven back together?

Is our heart willing?

Will we put action to our words?

I know that we can be better.

You can lean on me, if I can lean on you.

(Eugene Park – The Folly of Looking For Community) “We now treat community like a stop at Chipotle. You can curate your community, just like your burrito, down to your exact preference. In turn, our nation and churches have become more polarized and tribal than ever before. Turning community into a consumer commodity has led to what the The New York Times has dubbed, 'The Golden Age of Bailing'. If community is 'found,' it is just as easily left…Many of us choose to be architects rather than builders of our communities, dreaming up an ideal church rather than committing to a real church. Yet the more we clutch our own blueprints rather than embrace the people God has placed in front of us, the more grief we will bring to ourselves and to them... Consumer approaches to 'finding' community naturally favor the easiest and smoothest route....Yet it's only through effort, sweat and tears that anything worthy is built...Any genuine community will have to work through conflict.”

(Dietrich Bonhoeffer) “Those who love their dream of a Christian community more than they love the Christian community itself become destroyers of that Christian community.”

INVITED

Being INVITED to a table is an important gift.
It carries with it some understandings.
There’s nearly always a fleeting moment when I sit at a conference table as an INVITED person that I’ll glance around the table and think that my input must be valuable in order that I would be INVITED.  
AND I think well of myself.  
I don’t think there’s anything wrong about that. 
I also experience a sense of being grateful.
AND then, those thoughts are quickly chased away, as I look around the room again and think…
Who is NOT here? 
Who is NOT at the table and should be? 
And WHY ARE THEY NOT HERE? 
Finally, I become fairly convinced that there are others whose input would be more valuable than mine, at the table.  

And my last thought is, How can I step away from my chair and have them sit in it?

Heavy Grace

I have been praying this morning for a "heavy grace" to fall upon some that I love.

Some whose names and faces continuously wade through my spirit.

These are people He has entrusted to me to care about, to care for.

I don't know that this is a term theologians will appreciate, 

but here's what I mean by "heavy grace."

It's "heavy" in order that it cannot be disregarded.

It settles on people like a weighty, warm blanket.

It's "grace" in order that it be understood as a gift, 

          as a release, as security,

                            not condemnation.

Here's why I pray this way...

I believe that there's a voice inside of us, that wants to say, 

                                        "See how good I can be, all on my own!"

And there's another voice, outside of us, but speaking into us, that quietly says,

                                        "That's not the point."

So, we come at it from another angle. 

                     "But see how much better I am than most of the others!"

               And the response is, "That's still not the point."

Then we fail, and in our desperation cry out,

                     "I'm in trouble, 

                            I've made a mess of things. 

                  I've hurt others, and I can't fix myself,

                      let alone the messes I've made.  

                                      I NEED HELP!"

And that voice outside, once more speaks gently into us,

                             "THAT...IS THE POINT."

There it is.  Arms that we can fall back into; 

                                 
a trust fall at the point of our realized need.

                                        AND HE ALWAYS CATCHES US. 

Paul said, "...but He has said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you[My lovingkindness and My mercy are more than enough—always available—regardless of the situation]; for [My] power is being perfected [and is completed and shows itself most effectively] in [your] weakness.”Therefore, I will all the more gladly boast in my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ [may completely enfold me and] may dwell in me."

Heavy grace.

    

His Table

It's not woke.

It's not even new thought.

It was there in the beginning. 

And it will also be so in the end.

Decades ago, (1964 to be exact) there were those in our church family, 

who did their best to put it as straight-forward as they could.

(Here it is: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jo6E4LJMvJc&t=77s)

It was recorded alongside a collection of documents, 

in effort to remind us of the way, in times like these.

To represent the heart of the one who made us all,

                  in his image.

                        And invited us ALL

                                           to his table.

(Thank you to those at Hillside who bring us this visual reminder.)

The Redemption of Marah

Find a way this year.

Find a moment to breathe deep.

Mark it as the beginning of your personal Advent.

Not a devotional reading, but a moment in time.

To..."Be still and know." (Psalm 46:10)

From that passage, we're called to a "rapha" experience, 

                                                            a contemplative stillness, 

in order to know (acknowledge or become acquainted with) a truth.

In Exodus, rapha is listed as one of the names for God.  

When God turns the bitter waters of a spring called Marah, 

(The name not only implies bitter, but can also mean rebellion, grief, or hardship) 

into a sweet and drinkable water. 

We are then told, he is Jehovah Rapha or The God Who Heals. 

Rapha can also mean, to make whole or to restore.

Can it be that in our ceasing to strive, and rather approach a place of contemplative stillness,

                           that our spirit finally arrives at where God always is.

That place of wholeness.

Bitterness fades and hope invades,

                                                 physically, mentally and spiritually.

Through the spirit of Rapha.

Through the coming of His Son.

Maybe we can find healing.

This year...

            And for all time.