Mountain Granite

 I am mountain granite.

Hard, dense

Stuck in my ways.

To the naked eye, unchanging.

But to the eternal eye

Slowly shaped by ancient rhythms

Of melting glaciers

Mountain streams

And thunderous waterfalls.

All slowly having their way with me.

Everlasting faithfulness overpowering my resistance.

Ever so slowly molding me into a reflection of glory.

The Plot

Buy a plot of land and tend it.

Till the earth

Plant good seed.

Learn to wait and pray.

Cultivate what you are given.

Though the world around you may be going to hell,

This will be your salvation.

When that final day comes

You will not give an account for the world and its ways,

But for this corner of the earth which you have been given.

Sin of Silence

We all know the story.  God gives Adam and Eve paradise.  They are free to enjoy the garden and everything in it… with the exception of one tree.  A serpent comes along and smooth talks Eve, getting her to question God and his instructions.  She gives in.  So does Adam.  Paradise lost.

As I have heard the story told, Eve takes a lot of the blame.  She, after all, eats the fruit first.  Adam is portrayed as guilty by association.  A victim of listening to his wife.  But this is a pretty poor reading of the story.  If we read it carefully, Adam actually drops the ball first.  He messes things up BEFORE Eve takes the first bite.

The key is knowing the order of things:

1. God creates Adam.
2. God tells Adam not to eat the fruit from the tree of good/evil.
3. God creates Eve

Did you catch that?

God’s instructions about the tree are given to Adam, not Eve.  Eve was not even created yet.  Sure, by the time the serpent comes slithering around, she knows the rules.  But she only knows the rules through Adam.  He is the person God spoke to about right and wrong.  He is the one who was told the truth.  He was the one given this responsibility.

So, fast forward to when the serpent is smooth talking Eve. Where is Adam?

He is right there, but he is silent.  He is standing in the middle of the lies and deception, completely quiet.  He is standing there as someone who knows the truth, but does nothing.  He stands there as someone who God has spoken to, yet does not speak up. 

 

This is the sin of SILENCE.

 

Growing up in the church, I was taught that sin is stuff I do or say.  It is cussing, or drinking too much whiskey, or looking at a pretty girl.  But I don’t remember being taught about how silence can be a sin.

You see, sin is not just what we do, it is also what we don’t do.  It is not just what we say, it is what we fail to say. 

The fancy way to say this is there are sins of commission (things we say and do).  And there are sins of omission (things we do not say and do).  The church has done a pretty good job at teaching people about sins of commission.  But I fear we have failed to teach people about sins of omission.

 

The result is a church who often stays quiet when it should be speaking up.  Remains silent when it should be prophetic.  Keeps the peace when it should be marching in the streets. 

 

I find this all to be extremely relevant.  We are living in a world with a lot of loud voices.  Voices of fear and blame.  Voices of hate and slander.  Voices of selfishness and scapegoating.  Voices on the right and left.  Each of these voices is the voice of the serpent trying to get us to doubt the simple teachings of Jesus.    To question love, grace, and truth.

And it is precisely in times such as these, we need to speak up.  Because silence in the face of evil is a prelude to tragedy.

 

Silence in the face of well-crafted lies is a prelude to tragedy.

Silence is the face of fear and hate is a prelude to tragedy.

Silence in the face of racism is a prelude to tragedy.

Silence is the face of immorality is a prelude to tragedy.

Silence is the face of sexism is a prelude to tragedy.

Silence in the face of injustice is a prelude to tragedy.

Silence in the face of spiritual apathy is a prelude to tragedy.

 

The world needs to hear the church’s voice again.  If you have forgotten, this voice is both powerful and gentle.  It booms with truth, yet whispers grace.  It does not speak on behalf of a political leader, nor does it endorse a political party (or if it does, it has gone astray).  It will not be labelled by the powers of this world- conservative, liberal, right or left.  It does not show partiality to race, or wealth, or human popularity.  It is a voice of its own.  It is a prophetic voice reminding the world to return to the God it has forgotten and forsaken.  Reminding the world that God cares about justice, and sin, and condition of the human heart. It is a voice proclaiming there is such thing as “right” and “wrong”, and we are always to do our best to choose what is right.   It is a powerful and unrelenting voice shouting that every human soul matters deeply to God and should be treated accordingly. 

So, in the face of these false and misguided voices, let us not be silent!  There is too much at stake.

A Leaf

I am a leaf

Clinging to a branch in a hurricane

A tough son of a bitch.

Yet tender enough to be torn in two

By the fingers of a small child.

Vulnerable.

Mostly, I am unassuming.

Unnoticed by the passerby.

One among thousands.

Billions.

Quietly absorbing poison from this world.

Exhaling life.

 

 

 

Timber

I am timber.

Cold, untapped energy

Waiting to be thrown into the communal fire.

Longing to be with my brothers again.

Ablaze in community

Laughter

Story-telling.

Lament

A seamless dance that only happens between aged friends.

I am made for this fire.

The exchange of energy.

The creation of light.

The warmth of the human soul

The release of untapped potential.

Damn the slow chill of lonliness.

I want to burn out in a blaze of glory.

 

 

Still Waters

I am still waters

Where rapids fade to quiet.

A moment of peace and depth

Where cluttered souls can rest

And listen for the Eternal Whisper

A pregnant calm

Before the stream grows

Shallow and noisy again.

 

 

 

Disillusioned with Church

It is no secret that people are leaving the church in droves. 

People are disillusioned.  There is a deep desire in people for the church to be a holy place.  A place where they can come and experience God.  A place where the deep longings of the soul can be satisfied.  There is a hope within us that the church should be impacting the world.  Loving the unlovable.  Softening hard hearts.  Feeding the malnourished.  Caring for the poor and vulnerable.  There is a belief that the church should be a place absent of the world’s trouble.  A place of peace in a world of anxiety.  Hope in a world of despair.  Joy in a world of stress.  Love in a world of competition. 

This is what we feel the church should be. 

But then we drive down the street, park our car, walk into a brick building, and enter the REAL church.  It is nice enough.  And there are glimpses of the church we envision.  But if we stick around long enough, our grandiose visions of church slowly begin to die.  Sometimes worship is mundane.  The church loves and helps folks, but is hardly transforming cities.  And the troubles of this world- the worry, and conflict, and tension- live inside the church, too. 

The church in our dreams does not seem to match the church down the street.  Some of us try our luck at a few more, hopping to and hoping for something better.  But at the end of the day, no church we attend ever seems to fulfill what we think the church should be like. 

And so we become disillusioned. 

A good friend said this to me recently that he had finally become disillusioned with the church.   He had been a pastor, director of a jail ministry, and most recently a hospital chaplain.  So his words immediately saddened me (especially since he had been attending my church for the past few months). 

But he went on to explain how his disillusionment was a GOOD and FREEING thing.  To be disillusioned, he said, is to literally lose your illusions.  And it was his illusion of church that kept him discontent and unable to embrace the real church. 

I thought this was profound. 

Too often times our vision of church is an illusion.  It is a make-believe thing in our head.  It is not real people, in real towns, honestly trying to follow and serve Jesus.  And so when those real people do not look like the illusions in our head, we give up on them. 

Our illusions are the problem.

More of us need to become dis-illusioned with the church.  To let the illusions die so we will be able to (maybe for the first time) embrace the real church.  Which, by the way, is the body of Christ.  Is where we can find the presence of God.  Is impacting the world, caring for the poor, loving the vulnerable, and hospitable enough to make room for sinners like us.

To be honest, the REAL church is impacting the world more than your illusionary one.

So be careful with what frustrates you.  And here is to disillusionment. 

Frown Town

Frowntown was a city, that was gloomy and grey

Where people wore frowns on their faces all day

No one was happy or laughed out loud

Every day in the sky was a dark, grey cloud

 

At the start of each day everyone dragged out of bed

Without a “good morning” or anything said

They ate toast without butter and stale, old gruel

Then waddled to off to work, the kids off to school

 

All the adults thought work was tiresome and boring

And the children got through school by sleeping and snoring

When everyone got home they went right to the couch

To watch their favorite TV show, Frown Clown the Grouch

 

When the sun set at the end of the day

Nobody knew because the sky was so grey

They just got ready for bed and laid on down

And closed their big eyes above a great big frown

 

But then one day it happened, something totally new

It was such a surprise, folks didn’t know what they should do

A man with a smile came walking on through

Whistling a song Hum-dittly-dum-ditty-doo.

 

He was happy, and friendly, and bright as can be

And stopped in the middle of town to make this decree:

“Frowntown is a fine place. I like it a lot.

I reckon I’ll build a house in this very spot!”

 

So he gathered some hammers, nails, and wood

And built his house on the spot where he stood.

But the folks in Frowntown were not sure of this fellow

They dressed in black, and he dressed in yellow.

 

He baked cookies and brownies and anything sweet

And gave them away for everyone to eat

He was cheerful and nice, happy and fun

And he acted this way towards every last one

 

 

 

But most shocking of all was his great big smile

Which seemed to go on for mile upon mile

Some even said it shined like a light

Making grey Frowntown a little more bright

 

For the first little while the folks all stayed away

From the odd, happy man who smiled all day

But the light in his smile was appealing to some

Who were tired of living in the gluck and the glum

 

So they asked the man if he would teach them to grin

And help them undo the frown they were in

“It’s easy,” he said with a twinkle in his eye

“Just show me your teeth and lift your cheeks to the sky.”

 

It was tricky at first, to the folks with a frown

For their cheeks to go up, when they usually went down

But after some practice and help from their thumbs

They were smiling all the way up to their gums.

 

And so for the first time in a very long while

Some folks in Frowntown learned how to smile.

And just like the man whose smile gave off light

Their smiles, too, made Frowntown more bright

 

Then something happened, something totally outrageous

The light from their smiles became highly contagious

And spread throughout Frowntown just like an infection

Completely transforming peoples’ facial complexion

 

Soon Frowntown was filled with laughter and singing

People all playing, dancing and swinging.

The greyness and clouds that made life quite bland

Turned to bright colors in the sky and on land.

 

So Frowntown became quite a colorful place

Where smiles could be found on everyone’s face

All because a man came walking on through

Whistling a song, hum dittily dum ditty doo.