There are times in my life that I just do not give God any thought at all. I go blithely on my way, accepting His good gifts and blessings without a single moment of acknowledgment of where these might come from, and Who it is that sends them my way.
As I have mentioned before, my usual procedure each morning is to first of all read a Psalm and then go to a Gospel passage to reflect on. This morning I had to stop after the Psalm 50 reading because a couple of parts caught my eye.
Offer to God a sacrifice of thanksgiving (verse 14)
The one who offers thanksgiving as his sacrifice glorifies me (verse 23)
Thanksgiving as a sacrifice, now that seems an oxymoron. Where is the sacrifice in this?
Occasionally, we sing The Doxology in church. Those simple words in the first line "Praise God from Whom all blessings flow" stop me short, often not even allowing me to sing the rest, as I think of all I have to be thankful for. Not just the "stuff" that He sends my way, but the people, the relationships, the opportunities and just the life He allows me to live.
Thanksgiving is a way of saying, "I would have nothing except for You, and I would be nothing either".
It is also saying, "I did not do any of this on my own".
Thanksgiving is not just a day on the calendar in November each year, it is a lifestyle that glorifies God, and puts me in my rightful place.
Thanks be to God
Thursday, May 31, 2012
Wednesday, May 30, 2012
Is Dust Important?
In the story told today in Matthew 14, Herod Antipas, ruler over the territory of Galilee in the time of Jesus, shows what is important to him when he orders John the Baptist to be killed, just so he would not lose face with his friends. His place of authority and his pride, that would not let him admit that he had made a mistake, lead to the death of an innocent man.
In the movie that I watched, The Way, the box that contains the ashes of a son who died at the beginning of a pilgrimage in Spain, becomes the focal point of a father's walk of his own. It is the most important thing in his life at that point. His work and life fade into the background, and his goal becomes to walk the trail for his son.
When he has to rescue his backpack out of the river, the first thing he checks out is the box with the ashes. When a fellow traveler tries to touch it, he grabs it away. When his backpack is stolen he cries out to the buildings around him, "you can keep the pack, just give me back the box".
I think about what is important to me. Is it a box of dust?
At the end of the film, the box is placed on the altar in the cathedral, and then emptied into the sea.
To me, those closing scenes represent surrender. The surrender of what one man felt was important, to a power beyond his control.
Am I willing to surrender the "important" things in my life to God? Do I want to cling to my life, or offer it on the altar of service, or pour it out for Him?
Herod kept his pride and saved his face, the father in the movie went from being possessed by a box of ashes to giving it all up. Which way do I take?
In the movie that I watched, The Way, the box that contains the ashes of a son who died at the beginning of a pilgrimage in Spain, becomes the focal point of a father's walk of his own. It is the most important thing in his life at that point. His work and life fade into the background, and his goal becomes to walk the trail for his son.
When he has to rescue his backpack out of the river, the first thing he checks out is the box with the ashes. When a fellow traveler tries to touch it, he grabs it away. When his backpack is stolen he cries out to the buildings around him, "you can keep the pack, just give me back the box".
I think about what is important to me. Is it a box of dust?
At the end of the film, the box is placed on the altar in the cathedral, and then emptied into the sea.
To me, those closing scenes represent surrender. The surrender of what one man felt was important, to a power beyond his control.
Am I willing to surrender the "important" things in my life to God? Do I want to cling to my life, or offer it on the altar of service, or pour it out for Him?
Herod kept his pride and saved his face, the father in the movie went from being possessed by a box of ashes to giving it all up. Which way do I take?
Tuesday, May 29, 2012
Preconceived Notions
At least two things intersect in my thoughts this morning. Let's see where they lead.
The Scripture reading is from Matthew 13 and includes this portion (from The Message):
"We've known him since he was a kid; he's the carpenter's son. We know his mother, Mary. We know his brothers James and Joseph, Simon and Judas. All his sisters live here. Who does he think he is?"
These are folks from Jesus hometown, Nazareth, talking about a man that they knew firsthand. A man that was familiar to them and that they presumed to know, because of His physical presence among them.
Yesterday Tropical Storm Beryl passed over our island, so it was a rainy and windy day, a good day to stay inside and watch a movie. A friend had recommended "The Way" and so we watched. The main character undertakes a pilgrimage, and, along the way, meets up and travels with three others. When he meets each of the others, an idea forms in his mind about each, but as they travel, those ideas change, and at the end, relationships form that supersede the original. In one scene from the film, all four are walking through a vineyard. They are all walking on this journey in the same direction, but the director has them each on a different row. They are in close proximity to each other, going the same way, but each on a different path. They each state a reason for taking the long walking trip, and express it to the others, but these are only a means to an end, a way to find themselves.
I have ideas in my life, notions that have built up over the years. These can have a tendency to limit me in some way, but I cling to them anyway. They can refer to God, to Jesus, to the church, to the Bible. They can be about my life, my relationships, my children, my work. They can be about how I am supposed to be and act. They can be correct or false.
Have I allowed preconceived notions from the past to cloud my judgments in the present? Have I used the phrase "that is just how it is" to keep me in the same rut on the road, or am I open to let God show me different ideas and paths?
The folks in Jesus' hometown thought they knew the man that stood before them to talk. The travelers on the pilgrimage thought they knew at least a little about their fellow walkers, but they could not see the souls and hearts of each other.
God, help me not to be satisfied with preconceived notions, but show me the truth, about myself first of all, and then about others.
The Scripture reading is from Matthew 13 and includes this portion (from The Message):
"We've known him since he was a kid; he's the carpenter's son. We know his mother, Mary. We know his brothers James and Joseph, Simon and Judas. All his sisters live here. Who does he think he is?"
These are folks from Jesus hometown, Nazareth, talking about a man that they knew firsthand. A man that was familiar to them and that they presumed to know, because of His physical presence among them.
Yesterday Tropical Storm Beryl passed over our island, so it was a rainy and windy day, a good day to stay inside and watch a movie. A friend had recommended "The Way" and so we watched. The main character undertakes a pilgrimage, and, along the way, meets up and travels with three others. When he meets each of the others, an idea forms in his mind about each, but as they travel, those ideas change, and at the end, relationships form that supersede the original. In one scene from the film, all four are walking through a vineyard. They are all walking on this journey in the same direction, but the director has them each on a different row. They are in close proximity to each other, going the same way, but each on a different path. They each state a reason for taking the long walking trip, and express it to the others, but these are only a means to an end, a way to find themselves.
I have ideas in my life, notions that have built up over the years. These can have a tendency to limit me in some way, but I cling to them anyway. They can refer to God, to Jesus, to the church, to the Bible. They can be about my life, my relationships, my children, my work. They can be about how I am supposed to be and act. They can be correct or false.
Have I allowed preconceived notions from the past to cloud my judgments in the present? Have I used the phrase "that is just how it is" to keep me in the same rut on the road, or am I open to let God show me different ideas and paths?
The folks in Jesus' hometown thought they knew the man that stood before them to talk. The travelers on the pilgrimage thought they knew at least a little about their fellow walkers, but they could not see the souls and hearts of each other.
God, help me not to be satisfied with preconceived notions, but show me the truth, about myself first of all, and then about others.
Monday, May 28, 2012
"Thy Kingdom Come"
A phrase from the reading this morning keeps running through my mind.
"God's kingdom is..."(Matthew 13:44)
"Or, God's kingdom is..."(Matthew 13:45)
"Or, God's kingdom is..."(Matthew 13:47)
Then instead of concentrating on these short parables that Jesus talks about here, my mind leaps to another rendering of these same words. In the middle of the "Lord's Prayer" in Matthew 6:10, I read:
"Thy kingdom come..."
I have thought before of my sometimes inability to participate in a worship service when this prayer is recited. I often find that, as the words are spoken aloud, my heart is just not ready to take them seriously, and to pray them without sincerity seems wrong on my part. There is just so much meaning in those three words, that I cannot wrap my mind around them in the time before I have to go on to the rest of the prayer. So, I remain silent.
Why do I do this? In retrospect, I am afraid of offending God. When I think of these words I find a couple of different ideas popping into my brain. On the one hand I may want my kingdom to come and not His. I may like my life and don't want it upset. On another, I may see any present difficulties and look for a way out, even if it is the future. Either way is not bowing my knee to God and saying that I know His way is best for me, whatever it looks like.
God has placed me where I am today, with all of the attendant joys or trials. Someday I will realize the "rightness" of what is going on, but today is where I am to look for His kingdom, not someday. It is here and it is now. It is not my ideal fantasy life nor is it an escape from it.
"Thy kingdom come..."
I want to pray those words reverently and sincerely. God, help me do it.
"God's kingdom is..."(Matthew 13:44)
"Or, God's kingdom is..."(Matthew 13:45)
"Or, God's kingdom is..."(Matthew 13:47)
Then instead of concentrating on these short parables that Jesus talks about here, my mind leaps to another rendering of these same words. In the middle of the "Lord's Prayer" in Matthew 6:10, I read:
"Thy kingdom come..."
I have thought before of my sometimes inability to participate in a worship service when this prayer is recited. I often find that, as the words are spoken aloud, my heart is just not ready to take them seriously, and to pray them without sincerity seems wrong on my part. There is just so much meaning in those three words, that I cannot wrap my mind around them in the time before I have to go on to the rest of the prayer. So, I remain silent.
Why do I do this? In retrospect, I am afraid of offending God. When I think of these words I find a couple of different ideas popping into my brain. On the one hand I may want my kingdom to come and not His. I may like my life and don't want it upset. On another, I may see any present difficulties and look for a way out, even if it is the future. Either way is not bowing my knee to God and saying that I know His way is best for me, whatever it looks like.
God has placed me where I am today, with all of the attendant joys or trials. Someday I will realize the "rightness" of what is going on, but today is where I am to look for His kingdom, not someday. It is here and it is now. It is not my ideal fantasy life nor is it an escape from it.
"Thy kingdom come..."
I want to pray those words reverently and sincerely. God, help me do it.
Saturday, May 26, 2012
"It's a Gimmie"
There are some days, when I sit down to read a Scripture and then write on the meaning that God is showing me, that it is difficult to see an application. I want some words to literally jump off the page into my consciousness. I want an "aha moment", to know this is the message that I need right now. I know what I want at that particular time, but I don't always know if that is the way God wants me to get the lesson. Perhaps there is meaning in the struggle.
My wife is always amazed that I can come in from a round of golf and be able to remember each of the shots on that round. Often I can recall, not only the score and each stoke, but also the feelings I had while playing them. I can take the scorecard and pick out several, and sometimes many, errant shots, that, if I had executed better, would have lowed my score to a respectable number. Even if my final score was OK, there would be missed opportunities for a great one. "If only" is a prefix to many a description of rounds played.
There are 6 words that are music to my ears when I am not confident in my ability to score. As I walk toward my ball on the green, someone says, "pick it up, it's a gimmie". In other words, I don't have to make the putt for it to count. It is a chance not to be embarrassed by the flubbing of an easy shot. It is a short cut to a better round. When someone asks how I did that day, I can sing out with a decent number without admitting that I did not have to putt eight two-footers, but got to count them as good without any effort on my part.
Is the object to look good on the scorecard, or play well?
Is my object in study and blogging to look good for anyone who happens to read? To come up with some great insight that will make my time profitable? Sure, I want to hear from God, and want to be able to apply lessons from Scripture to my life, but could the struggle to determine these perhaps be the message on any given day?
Maybe I had better not write down my score on a hole until the ball hits the bottom of the cup, a true measure of my game.
There are no shortcuts to what God wants me to be. No gimmies.
My wife is always amazed that I can come in from a round of golf and be able to remember each of the shots on that round. Often I can recall, not only the score and each stoke, but also the feelings I had while playing them. I can take the scorecard and pick out several, and sometimes many, errant shots, that, if I had executed better, would have lowed my score to a respectable number. Even if my final score was OK, there would be missed opportunities for a great one. "If only" is a prefix to many a description of rounds played.
There are 6 words that are music to my ears when I am not confident in my ability to score. As I walk toward my ball on the green, someone says, "pick it up, it's a gimmie". In other words, I don't have to make the putt for it to count. It is a chance not to be embarrassed by the flubbing of an easy shot. It is a short cut to a better round. When someone asks how I did that day, I can sing out with a decent number without admitting that I did not have to putt eight two-footers, but got to count them as good without any effort on my part.
Is the object to look good on the scorecard, or play well?
Is my object in study and blogging to look good for anyone who happens to read? To come up with some great insight that will make my time profitable? Sure, I want to hear from God, and want to be able to apply lessons from Scripture to my life, but could the struggle to determine these perhaps be the message on any given day?
Maybe I had better not write down my score on a hole until the ball hits the bottom of the cup, a true measure of my game.
There are no shortcuts to what God wants me to be. No gimmies.
Friday, May 25, 2012
My Times and Thy Will
It is has been my practice for most of this year, to read a Psalm as my opening prayer in this study session. I read, or heard at some point, that if a person prays a psalm back to God, He cannot fail to answer, and so I do it, trying to make sure that He knows of my efforts to find Him in my study. It may be that I am looking for a magic bullet that will assure this happening, but the practice has yielded some gems.
But, as I think about this search for a formula of prayer and study, one that will give me insights into God, His Word, and my place in the whole scheme of things, my mind goes back to another prayer that I have associated with a sure answer.
Jan Karon, in her Mitford series books, has a character, Father Tim, who often suggests that, in times of uncertainty, we use the "prayer that never fails". What is this talisman, the certain set of words that if we utter, will cause God to bend near and hear us?
This prayer comes from Matthew 6:10 and it included in the Lord's Prayer. As translated in the King James version it reads "Thy will be done".
Praying this prayer says that the petitioner bows his knee and gives up any sovereignty in his own life to what God knows is best. It is an acknowledgment that God is in control, and I am not.
When I read in my Psalm reading for today, in Psalm 31:15 to be exact, that "My times are in Your hand", I see the same meaning.
These two prayers, one prayed by David, and the other cited by Jesus, himself, as a model, will put my life where God would want it to be, if I only pray them in sincerity from my own heart.
Can I or will I?
But, as I think about this search for a formula of prayer and study, one that will give me insights into God, His Word, and my place in the whole scheme of things, my mind goes back to another prayer that I have associated with a sure answer.
Jan Karon, in her Mitford series books, has a character, Father Tim, who often suggests that, in times of uncertainty, we use the "prayer that never fails". What is this talisman, the certain set of words that if we utter, will cause God to bend near and hear us?
This prayer comes from Matthew 6:10 and it included in the Lord's Prayer. As translated in the King James version it reads "Thy will be done".
Praying this prayer says that the petitioner bows his knee and gives up any sovereignty in his own life to what God knows is best. It is an acknowledgment that God is in control, and I am not.
When I read in my Psalm reading for today, in Psalm 31:15 to be exact, that "My times are in Your hand", I see the same meaning.
These two prayers, one prayed by David, and the other cited by Jesus, himself, as a model, will put my life where God would want it to be, if I only pray them in sincerity from my own heart.
Can I or will I?
Thursday, May 24, 2012
A Bonfire of Weeds?
One of the reasons that it takes me so long to write a blog is that, while reflecting on the Scripture passage of the day, my mind takes me on so many different rabbit trails. Consider today:
The passage is from Matthew 13: 24-30, and is the parable of the farmer's field planted with wheat, but also sown by "the enemy" with weeds, thistles or tares, according to the translation used. Where do I go with all of that?
Well, first of all, I think about the Thanksgiving Hymn or Come You Thankful People Come, so I looked up the lyrics to the hymn and found this in the second verse: "wheat and tares together sown". Look at the whole score here:
http://www.hymnsite.com/lyrics/umh694.sht
That got me to thinking about a time, growing up, when my Dad decided to plant a small field of corn and my job was to weed out the Johnson grass from among the corn plants. The only trouble was that when each first sprouted and grew, they looked the same, at least to the untrained eye of a kid. So, I probably weeded an equal number of good and bad plants.
How about the analogy of my life as the field in which good and bad things grow up together? Perhaps the plants may look similar, and maybe all look good, but there will come a day when the wheat will be separated from the tares, and then the true good works will be known. In the hymn cited above that will be when God "gives His angels charge at last".
As I follow that trail, I think about the verse in I Corinthians 3:13-15:
And the fire will test what kind of work each has done. If what someone has built survives, he will receive a reward. If someone’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss. He himself will be saved, but only as through fire.
How much of my life will be filled with stuff that looks good but is only wood, hay and stubble, or tares and thistles? When that is burned away, what will be left?
The field may look good, but the smoke from the burning could be intense.
The passage is from Matthew 13: 24-30, and is the parable of the farmer's field planted with wheat, but also sown by "the enemy" with weeds, thistles or tares, according to the translation used. Where do I go with all of that?
Well, first of all, I think about the Thanksgiving Hymn or Come You Thankful People Come, so I looked up the lyrics to the hymn and found this in the second verse: "wheat and tares together sown". Look at the whole score here:
http://www.hymnsite.com/lyrics/umh694.sht
That got me to thinking about a time, growing up, when my Dad decided to plant a small field of corn and my job was to weed out the Johnson grass from among the corn plants. The only trouble was that when each first sprouted and grew, they looked the same, at least to the untrained eye of a kid. So, I probably weeded an equal number of good and bad plants.
How about the analogy of my life as the field in which good and bad things grow up together? Perhaps the plants may look similar, and maybe all look good, but there will come a day when the wheat will be separated from the tares, and then the true good works will be known. In the hymn cited above that will be when God "gives His angels charge at last".
As I follow that trail, I think about the verse in I Corinthians 3:13-15:
And the fire will test what kind of work each has done. If what someone has built survives, he will receive a reward. If someone’s work is burned up, he will suffer loss. He himself will be saved, but only as through fire.
How much of my life will be filled with stuff that looks good but is only wood, hay and stubble, or tares and thistles? When that is burned away, what will be left?
The field may look good, but the smoke from the burning could be intense.
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