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)

PTVA or 5S Faith

PTVA or 5S Faith

Man has tried many and varied approaches in his attempts to connect with the Other.  That which was lost in Eden has seemingly remained just beyond our grasp, but whispers in the wind leaving aromas that pique deeply hidden, nearly forgotten memories.  It seems that man has failed, miserably, in his attempt to reach up to the heavens.  Stories of Heaven coming down to man are part of our lore.  But, our myths and legends tell contradictory and conflicting stories.  Is He holding a scepter, a gavel, a hammer, a lightning bolt, …?  Is He smiling, scowling, frowning, sighing…?

Prophets have come and gone.  Their followers have taken up their mantle and made attempts to carry on the muse, repeating the message, but soon becoming decaying monuments.  And, some of the prophets have spoken for themselves, not the Other.  Intuitively, a humble, honest heart senses that love is the way, not hate.  Lost in the baggage is the hope, the faith, the mercy, the grace.

We have created “5S” faith – searching, studying, schooling, systematizing, and sealing it all with a synod.  This is my heritage.  But, the preserves are not the fresh fruit?!  Maybe it is because the fruit does not come every month?  I read that the Tree will then bear its fruit every month!  We ate the fruit, and lost our taste for fresh fruit?  We wanted knowledge and became darkened in our ignorance and stupidity!

I recently was reading what the disciples of Merton had to say about him and just closed my newfound thrift store find, shaking my head.  But, I am reading ABOUT Merton, more specifically, about his thoughts.  But, I am not reading his writings.  But, even then, I would not be following Merton, but just reading him.  He did end up in some weird places in his thinking.  But, “weird” is a word that points to the Other?!

Today, in SS class, we read of the meeting between Peter and Cornelius, in Acts 10.  I read of prayer, a trance, visions, even angels.  This does not fit “5S” very well.  I am sitting there marking up my text debating comments heard decades ago from “giants” in my tradition.  Hmmm?!  This Spirit thing is “weird” and difficult to predict, preserve, …

My mind turns to Paul, the valedictorian of Gamaliel University, and his “man caught up into the third heaven…” and then I think on John, the fisherman, and his experience with the Apocalypse.  The Augustines write history, or at least the history of Christian thought.  The desert fathers fade into obscurity, but perhaps their influence lives on, even only as postscripts and fragments?

(John 14) ¹ “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. ² My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? ³ And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. ⁴ You know the way to the place where I am going.”

⁵ Thomas said to him, “Lord, we don’t know where you are going, so how can we know the way?”

⁶ Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me. ⁷ If you really know me, you will know my Father as well. From now on, you do know him and have seen him.”

⁸ Philip said, “Lord, show us the Father and that will be enough for us.”

⁹ Jesus answered: “Don’t you know me, Philip, even after I have been among you such a long time? Anyone who has seen me has seen the Father. How can you say, ‘Show us the Father’? ¹⁰ Don’t you believe that I am in the Father, and that the Father is in me? The words I say to you I do not speak on my own authority. Rather, it is the Father, living in me, who is doing his work. ¹¹ Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me; or at least believe on the evidence of the works themselves. ¹² Very truly I tell you, whoever believes in me will do the works I have been doing, and they will do even greater things than these, because I am going to the Father. ¹³ And I will do whatever you ask in my name, so that the Father may be glorified in the Son. ¹⁴ You may ask me for anything in my name, and I will do it.

¹⁵ “If you love me, keep my commands. ¹⁶ And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another advocate to help you and be with you forever— ¹⁷ the Spirit of truth. The world cannot accept him, because it neither sees him nor knows him. But you know him, for he lives with you and will be in you. ¹⁸ I will not leave you as orphans; I will come to you. ¹⁹ Before long, the world will not see me anymore, but you will see me. Because I live, you also will live. ²⁰ On that day you will realize that I am in my Father, and you are in me, and I am in you. ²¹ Whoever has my commands and keeps them is the one who loves me. The one who loves me will be loved by my Father, and I too will love them and show myself to them.”

2 Corinthians 12:2

I know a man in Christ who fourteen years ago was caught up to the third heaven. Whether it was in the body or out of the body I do not know—God knows.

Revelation 1:10

On the Lord’s Day I was in the Spirit, and I heard behind me a loud voice like a trumpet,

Revelation 4:2

At once I was in the Spirit, and there before me was a throne in heaven with someone sitting on it.

Revelation 21:10

And he carried me away in the Spirit to a mountain great and high, and showed me the Holy City, Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God.