and, Love smiles…

and, Love smiles…

Somewhere, and yet everywhere, at a moment and yet always and forever, Love smiles at the angels, watching in confusion, and announces plans for a new race of loved ones.  Yet, the Word of God smiles, with resolve and affirmation, knowing the price one day to be paid, the cost of love, asking, “… will they ever get it…?”  And, Love smiles.

On a cold, dark night, far from the familiar comforts of their home, just past all the pain and struggle, a young mother, Mary, looks into the face of her new baby, and loves smiles, erasing all the darkness.  And, the baby, cooing and gurgling, smiles up from the arms embracing him.  And, Love smiles.

With five of their days gone by, He forms him and breaths alive the man, smiling as he opens his eyes.  And Adam arises to his new sentience, smiling as he walks with his Creator (in a fellowship too soon gone).  A new bond of love has formed in the cosmos.  And, Love smiles.

With much surrounding him, he is still alone, with a strange ache in his heart.  Carefully, he holds his tender side, smiling as the “mother of all living” approaches (strangely different but the same); and Adam exclaims, “At last! …”  And, Love smiles.

Together, they are alone.  And the pair nervously smile as they approach Him, with fruity breath.  And the Creator disappointedly smiles as he covers them with hides of slain creatures, the cost of His love.   And, Love smiles.

Another pair, ages later, Simeon and Anna, smile as they meet the long-awaited hope and consolation of Israel.  And the pair with the child, Joseph and Mary, smile, marveling over and carefully memorizing the strange words of this old pair?!  And, Love smiles.

The studious, old teachers smile as they listen to His answers, a mere boy of twelve.  Later, the Twelve often smile with the same curious amazement.  Heaven smiles as the message unfolds.  Will they hear it?  And, Love smiles.

Smiling, Jesus affirms the answer given by the seeker about the great command – “…love God … love your neighbor…”  And with a gleam in His eye, He continues, “… you are not far from the kingdom…”  and, Love smiles.

Mary and her sons approach the crowd surrounding her firstborn, confusedly smiling as they see Jesus, motion toward the crowd, designating them as his family.  Jesus smiles as he calls them “brothers and sisters”, watching their eyes light up with hope.  And, Love smiles.

The Centurion, in charge of the whole bloody affair, smiles knowingly, but awkwardly aware “… surely, this is the Son of God!”  And the slain Savior, the crucified Christ, mercifully smiles, petitioning, “…Father, forgive them …”   And, Love smiles.

Three times he denied Him; and, now Simon Peter embarrassingly smiles as He thrice asks, “… do you love me?”  And Jesus reassuringly smiles as thrice he directs, “… feed my sheep…”  And, Love smiles.

Daily, my struggles and desires wage warfare within me.  Upward I look, nervously smiling to see the smiling Face above.  He’s brought me so far; surely, He’s not done with me now? Not yet?  “…while yet a sinner, Christ died for me …”  comes to mind!  “Behind a frowning providence, He hides a smiling face…”  echoes in my mind!  And, Love smiles!

Somewhere, and yet everywhere, at a moment and yet always and forever, Love smiles at the angels, watching in confusion, and announces plans for a new race of loved ones.  Yet, the Word of God smiles, with resolve and affirmation, knowing the price one day to be paid, the cost of love, asking, “… will they ever get it…?”  And, Love smiles.

Shall I play for you
Pa rum pum pum pum
Pa rum pum pum
Pum pum pum pum

Mary nodded
Pa rum pum pum pum
The ox and lamb kept time
Pa rum pum pum pum

I played my drum for him
Pa rum pum pum pum
I played my best for him
Pa rum pum pum pum,
Rum pum pum pum,
Rum pum pum pum

Then he smiled at me
Pa rum pum pum pum
Me and my drum

 

THE LOST BOYS

THE LOST BOYS

16 Then Herod, when he saw that he had been tricked by the wise men, was in a furious rage, and he sent and killed all the male children in Bethlehem and in all that region who were two years old or under, according to the time which he had ascertained from the wise men. 17 Then was fulfilled what was spoken by the prophet Jeremiah:

          18 “A voice was heard in Ramah,

          wailing and loud lamentation,

          Rachel weeping for her children;

          she refused to be consoled,

          because they were no more.”     (Matthew 2)

 

                Somewhere in the middle of the heavenly host, assembled around the Throne of God and the Lamb, one angel leans forward and whispers to an archangel, “… who are those little boys in that new balcony?  … there are a couple of dozen of them, smiling, and waving their tiny hands at the King!  … but, who are they?!”  The archangel hushed him, and whispered, “…that’s the Bethlehem Balcony…”

                Down below, in time and space, a couple dozen heart-broken mothers meet in a support group they call the “M.O.B.” – mothers of Bethlehem.  One of the mothers, Hannah, clears her throat and begins the meeting, saying, “… it has been several years now, but I cannot close my eyes without seeing the soldiers kicking open doors – the screams, the crying babies, the helpless distress …”  

Another, Ruth, breaks in, “…it must have been how the mother of Moses, Jochabed, felt, waiting for the Nile crocodiles …”  

Sarah angrily interrupts, sobbing, “… yeah, but her boy was saved; mine was smashed against the wall by that brute soldier …”  

The room falls into a hushed silence filled with quiet sobs.  Elizabeth hesitantly broke the  silence, whispering, “I heard that one got away?!  They did not get them all?”

Anna added, “I remember them; they came for the census that Herod had…”  Several mothers, in unison, spit on the floor at the mention of the name of Herod.

Naomi cried, “I remember that demon, Herod; he even killed three of his own sons – what a mad man!”

Anna continued, “…but, I remember them; they came down from Galilee, and stayed for a while.  Their baby was born in the stables.  Bethlehem was full of outsiders that week and the only inn was full.  They stayed for a while, even after most folks went home – new baby delayed them, I guess?!  The shepherds still talk about that baby.”

Miriam interjected, “…yeah, those Magi showed up, left, then came the soldiers!”

Sarah angrily added, “…yes, their baby was the one Herod was looking for – something about ‘king of the Jews’ like Micah the prophet said?  All I know is that he is the one that got my baby boy killed!  And, I even bought some tables that were made by that carpenter; Joseph was his name?!”

The angel continued to stare at the new balcony in the Throne Room.  He could not fathom the joy and laughing coming from the alcove.  Then he watched as the Lamb stood and waved back to the boys.  Then, the Lamb arose and was in their balcony, holding them and singing to them!  They had a special, unexplainable bond.

On a trip to Jerusalem, decades later, Sarah met a quiet, serene lady and questioned, “…you are her!?  You are the mother of the boy Herod wanted to kill?  But, he killed my boy – and yours got away!  It is so unfair!  My baby died so that yours could live?!  It is so unfair!”

Mary, sadly, but excitedly said, “No, my son died so that you can live; let me tell you about my son, Jesus”

Sarah gasped, “…your son was the one they took to Golgotha?!”

Mary sat and explained the whole story, remembering and rehearsing what Isaiah had said so long ago!  Sarah cried; but, it was a new cry, a cry for joy over the risen King!

Sarah went back to Bethlehem and joined the group of believers there.  One Sunday, she donated a table which she had bought years ago, from the carpenter.  “Please take it and use it for the Eucharist table,” Sarah pleaded, adding “I bought it from Joseph, years ago.  I had two, but I sold the other one to some fellow in Jerusalem who wanted it for his upper room…”

And, somewhere in Heaven, the boys lost in Bethlehem smile in peace and purity and perfection.  And, their Brother smiles back at them. 

HIGH PLACES

HIGH PLACES

or,

SLIDING OR SOARING?

No doubt, it is easier to slide down a hill, than climb up an incline.  It can even be more fun, on a sled, or even a cardboard box!  But, life is not a toboggan run.  We do not climb hills just so that we can slide down, again. 

 Life has its peaks and valleys, for sure.  “Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death … Thou art with me…”  But, this is a different metaphor.  Life has its ups and downs, but one does not jump off cliffs into the void.  There are idiots with bird suits who call falling sideways “flying” but they still splatter the ground.  Let’s follow the Shepherd through the valley to the green pastures on the hillsides.

Surely, climbing  has its own rewards.  David, my snl, has a bucket list item that involves all the “fourteen-ers” in Colorado!  It is good exercise.  But, the peace on the peak is the point, I suspect.  I imagine the eagle’s nest in the craggy heights, the “aerie”, that ethereal stronghold!  Far below are the hens scratching in the yard, never looking up. On eagle’s wings the waiting-ones soar into the mist. 

Jesus speaks of two ways, one broad and easy, in my mind, leading down into the pit, the other narrow and difficult, leading upward into the clouds.    I think of Jacob’s angelic ladder, connecting earth and heaven.  To ascend those glistening stair-steps into the realm of the angels’ Master and Maker?!  Progress, pilgrim!

The “high places” were not really “good” places in Israel’s lore.  There, the unbelievers gathered sinking downward into darkness.  There, on the heights, the godless degenerated into evil.  But, on one mountain, the man of God, Elijah, met the 450!  The 300 stood in a mountain pass and withstood the Persian armies.  But, there on the Mount of Carmel, one man stood, for God, and fire came, and evil was eradicated.  The people rallied, chanting, The LORD is God!

Lord, take us to this high place!

BLACK DOGS AND BONES

BLACK DOG

Unlike how we think, as 21^st century Americans, a “dog” was not a pet nor friend, nor a good word, in Holy Script?!  Nothing against dogs – I keep two GS’s (and, before them, Jake, Molly, Gretchen, …) and they nearly worship me.  But, even today, in some places, dogs are not fed, but rather are food?!  Yet, let us look at and think on a proverb ...

There is a proverb (attributed to American Natives, or some Chinese sage, depending on who is telling the story) that tells of two dogs within, one dark and one light, that struggle for one's soul.  The one that overcomes the other is the one that is fed.  So, feed the dog of light, not the dog of darkness!  There is some truth, much truth, to this proverb.

But, the problem is that it seems that the dark dog needs only a bone thrown its direction to arouse it to a vicious attack.  A bone-skinny hell-hound arises, snapping and growling, not content with the bone, but wanting to chew off your leg, as it goes for your very heart!  I remember a scene in a movie, Vikings, where Ragner growled and jumped into a pit of starving wolves, before his enemies could push him in, to his death sentence.  He won, but lost.  It did not end as the story of Daniel.

And, it is not about quantity, alone.  Black dogs awake to just a scrap of dead meat; and, the hell-hound, the black dog, will eat anything and everything.  It is like the alligator, turning even good meat into rotten, maggot infested stench, before it eats.  It bites, sits back, and watches for death, like the komodo.  It, like the buzzard, circles, smelling the death, and then lights to feast on the rottenness.  But, it thrives on the filth.  And, we bait and feed the dog of darkness?!  The black dog needs little to keep it going – a stray thought, a hesitant click, a thoughtless slip, an unguarded moment, … but it awakes to destroy and devour.  Not a bone, not a scrap for the dark dog.

In contrast, the white dog demands manna, “the sincere milk of the Word,” the “unblemished”, the firstborn of the flock, the best!  No doubt, “greater is He in you, than he in the world…” but, who/what is in you?!  The “hound of heaven” pursues and protects.  But, we run from Him into the howls of the darkness?!  We could walk through the valley of the shadow of death, with his protection, but …  what dog am I feeding?!  Am I “thinking on things above…”?

Also, we need to “put to death what is earthly…” – some dogs need to be killed!  From yet another vantage, we need to be running with a pack of white wolves – not a pack of hyenas or wild-dogs or coyotes, howling and yipping.

knowing everything?

"you will know ..."

Knowing everything, and yet really, of value, nothing,  

Connected by technology, like never before seen;

but each in our own cave, peeking out in fear, whispering,

“what is out there?  So familiar, but so different, so mean…”

Valuing little of what has come before, from some sage.

Now trying anything, but really onto nothing we hold.

“Diversity and tolerance are the values of our new age!”

Yet, anger and/or apathy, grow in our hearts, ever cold.

Those born of ‘submission” are spiraling out of control;

Those born of “love” seem different, but somehow the same.

“I hate you and will take both your gold and your soul.”

I hate myself and trust you to be other than you claim?!

Of forbidden fruit we once ate, believing the lie.

Now, where is the voice we once heard in the garden?

Ever only we walk in darkness, soon surely to die.

Where is that tree with the healing for the nations?

Healing and harmony, honesty and honor,

Words and ideas that seem laughingly untrue.

We’re sinking into darkness, soon going under…

God help us, soon!  We know not what to do!

With You, there is light and there is hope;

No other option has a chance to deliver,

They only blind us, in darkness we grope.

You alone are the path, our way to recover.

Lost and alone, in deep darkness we often herd.

Touching, but distant, straining to desperately hear,

fellowship forgotten, conversations once heard,

that gave comfort from pain, and peace in our fear.

Come, Thou who art light and truth and life!

God is "fruity"

I have been praying, recently, to become the list of Spirit produced fruit -- love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness, self-control. (Gal.5)  I want a heart, a character, a personality, a life that is defined, recognized, controlled, filled with these traits.  I can read in various translations, study the Greek, check out commentaries, take a look at books -- but, I am praying for the Spirit to do His thing, as only He can, and change me to be LJP...

During this morning's prayer, the thought came to me that this "fruit list" is a resume of God, a nine-sided picture of the Other!  Oddly, missing are the descriptors the theologians like to use to put God in a box?!  And, they sound like somebody trying to describe Jesus!

We are being transformed into His likeness, by the Spirit.  This is the itinerary, the map, the recipe. 

this old hymn comes to mind --

 Lord Jesus, I long to be perfectly whole, 
I want Thee forever to live in my soul;
Break down every idol, cast out every foe;
Now wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.

from one level of glory to the next, I am becoming like Him!

but, this is not about me, it is about Him, and me becoming like Him; so, maybe MWS needs to re-write his song to include the LJP list?!

"You are ..."

in His "otherness" He is LJP... (do not think G-W -- JEPD?!) -- just imagine Heaven radiating with love, joy, peace?!  His light fills the place! (thinking 4D, cannot help it)  We call this "holy, holy, holy..."

I feel a sermon developing -- "God is LJPPKGFGS" linking Bible narratives to each uncial?! 

if you were to call me a "fruitcake" would that be a compliment?!  

maybe I will go re-read "The Shack"? -- Aunt Jemimah, Dinty Moore, and a technicolored wood sprite...

("weird" is a good word)