Monday, January 20, 2014

Walls That Divide--Ties That Bind

Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brothers to dwell together in unity! (Psalms 133:1)

The walls that divide Christianity are numerous—sharp bricks and weighty stones of doctrine which too frequently we use to build walls of separation or cast at one another in ignorance, fear or selfishness; and yes, even hatred. Jesus rebuked the scribes and Pharisees who sought to persecute an adulterous woman by saying “He who is without sin among you, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.” (John 8:7 NASB) He went one step further than most of us would by saying, “Neither do I condemn you; go your way. From now on sin no more.” (John 8:11)

Our Heavenly Father does not condone our sins, neither does he condemn us for our failures. Yet, how many stony words of condemnation do we throw at those of differing faiths instead of practicing godliness and sharing gentle expressions of compassion, tolerance, and understanding? It's a thought-provoking, teeth-clenching question for most of us. Recognizing the ties that bind us together as a unified community of believers is critical to help us move beyond our prejudices.

While not a staple in many Christian denominations, the Apostles Creed still provides a singular doctrine of faith which calls us to unity. While historians have researched its origins for centuries, most experts believe the creed dates to the first century – at least in some form, superseding nearly all of the modern-day churches, except the Catholic Church from whence it has its origins. The message of the creed is plain, simple, yet profound. It describes the trinity; the deity of Jesus Christ, His miraculous birth and resurrection; as well as the promise of eternal life.

I believe in God, the Father Almighty, Maker of heaven and earth.

And in Jesus Christ, His only Son, our Lord, who was conceived by the Holy Spirit, born of the Virgin Mary, suffered under Pontius Pilate, was crucified, died and was buried. He ascended into heaven and sits at the right hand of God, the Father Almighty. From thence He will come to judge the living and the dead.

I believe in the Holy Spirit, the holy catholic church, the communion of saints, the forgiveness of sins, the resurrection of the body, and the life everlasting.

Amen.

As children of God, do we truly believe in the communion of saints? The word “communion” infers we are in accord with other believers; that we have a deep fellowship, togetherness, union.

However, an intimate examination of our hearts reveals discord—deep-seated prejudices and long-standing fears of those within the body of Christ who adhere to differing belief systems. Needless to say, the body of Christ is not truly “in communion;” instead, it is fractured and broken.

Decades after his passing, the words of Martin Luther King still challenge us to live as one people in communion. His words speak to us, not only of racial unit, but of harmony among all brothers and sisters in Christ.

“When we allow freedom to ring—when we let it right from every city and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God's children—black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual “Free at Last, Great God A-mighty, we are free at last.”

Seeds of divisiveness and prejudice have been planted over centuries. Let us now uproot those obnoxious and prolific weeds and plant seeds of forgiveness and God's grace. Paul exhorted the Philippians to “be of the same mind, maintaining the same love, united in spirit, intent on one purpose.” (Phil. 2:2)

These are the ties that bind us together: the holy scriptures, God's merciful grace, and our common faith in one God, one Savior, Jesus Christ, and the power of His resurrection to save our searching souls.

"I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord entreat you to walk in a manner worthy of the calling with which you have been called, with all humility and gentleness, with patience, showing forbearance to one another in love, being diligent to preserve the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit, just as also you were called in one hope of your calling; one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all who is over all and through all and in all." (Eph. 4:1-6)

Walk in a worthy manner – Preserve the unity – Remember your calling.

One hope – One Lord – One faith – One baptism – One God and Father of All.

Sunday, January 12, 2014

52 Weeks of Writing--A Challenge for 2014

Looking Forward~

Around the first of every year, I think every pastor or priest I've ever known feels obligated to challenge his flock to set goals, to look at life in a new way, to start afresh for the coming annum. To make plans and keep them. Those sermons never cease to surprise me. While you'd think, who could ever say something new? How could I be challenged once again? What could I possibly learn? Yet . . .

Every year, I seem to hear life from a new perspective. I collect courage and hope as new companions along the journey. This year, however, was even more surprising for something special was heralded from the pulpit--and it wasn't only Pastor Pat's soothing, familiar voice--it was the voice of a caring Father. A Father who wanted me to know that what I had been hearing in my head for months on end was indeed His voice.

"O taste and see that the Lord is good . . . " - a simple phrase reverberating in my head and heart for oh so very long. But, what does it mean?

As usual with God's word, there are a multitude of meanings behind and within. Sometimes my mind wants to explode--wondering, analyzing. God's word is the breath of heaven--it breathes and heaves and declares and commands. Yet . . . all I need do is listen and rest and (that awful word) wait. Seems I've been doing a lot of that lately (years now actually).

So I'm sure you're wondering now, what did I take away from that December 29, 2013 sermon. Well, before the sermon even really started in earnest, here is what I wrote:

52 weeks of writings

Taste and see that the Lord is good

What verse did Pastor Pat share several minutes into his sermon? Yep, you guessed it: Psalms 34:8 O taste and see that the Lord is good; How blessed is the man who takes refuge in Him.

Personally, I don't like New Year's resolutions. They are trite, full of themselves, and under normal circumstances highly unattainable. Oh, and did I mention frustrating and downright demeaning?

Now that I've gotten that out of my system, I believe it's time to succumb to the triteness and get on with something that really matters. Writing. At least that's what matters to me and I believe deep down it's what matters to God because it is His gift behind and within. As Pastor Pat said, "we cannot change ourselves; only God can change us to the degree that we are willing to submit to Him." What will you do with your gift? Will you submit or succumb? Taste and see . . .

Aloneness

Frazzled, frayed, spiked points of uncertainty.

Standing out amidst the green jumble of prairie plant life, solitary against smooth life-filled leaves.

How have I been found in such dryness? Scratchy stems, withered from a barren life.

Inverted – upside down - opposite to the oasis in the middle of a desert - my life is much like this frayed pom-pom plant--dried out, solitary, yet somehow, surprisingly standing upright surrounded by the flowing river of prairie grasses. Yes, it's the dryness that creates this unbendable, sharp-edged spike.

Flexible, living, chlorophyll breathing round about, yet here I am withered, out-of-breath, desperately clinging to lifeless roots. Will the gardener come and, with one gentle tug, pull me from my fragility – making room for new growth and green life? Will he blow my wispy top knot, spreading seeds on the prairie wind?

I'm not so sure I have a chance this season. Will Spring be my salvation? Did the seeds find their destiny--their root? Like wild salmon fighting their way upriver, must I die so others will live? Is the prairie song the song of a Savior?

Aloneness . . . yet never really alone.