Where is your safe place?
Where do you go to hide when you feel the need to hide?
To whom do you do to “lick your wounds” from life in the world?
Let’s think about these questions
as we meditate on the word of the Lord:
Psalm 71:1-6
In you, O LORD, I take refuge;
let me never be put to shame.
In your righteousness deliver me and rescue me;
incline your ear to me and save me.
When we were young, we sought out the safe places, the bases from which we could move to explore our world. Even in our games, we would name a tree or a porch “home” or “base,” and as long as we were touching base, we were safe. Sometimes our cousins or siblings would get so mad that even these places weren’t safe anymore. So we would just happen to wander into Grandma’s kitchen and take a sudden interest in the making of pies. Nobody would mess with us there.
But as you get older, finding safe places becomes more difficult. Teenagers look at you like you’re a fool if you start talking about naming a locker as “home” and Grandma, if she is still alive, is no longer as amused with you hiding at her feet. “Time to grow up!” And so we try to act brave even on days when we don’t exactly feel safe.
Some of us learn the good church answer: “In you, O Lord, I take refuge!” It is a true answer; God is our shelter. As our faith matures, on most days our faith sustains us, our firm belief based on experience that God walks with us and protects us. Yet there are those other days. Days when the invisibility of God to earthly eyes make his omniscience, his omnipotence, and even his omnipresence invisible and intangible to our needy souls. Days when we call for rescue, but don’t immediately feel the strength of a divine response.
On those days we need to remember that God dwells among his people. Surely, if two or more of us are gathered together, God will be there. And God is. Yet there is a problem with this as well. Sometimes we find that our little safe place, our safe community, is not accessible to us. Perhaps they are busy; perhaps they are gone away on business. Maybe we are mad at them for some offense other than our current crisis; maybe they are angry with us. And sometimes, some of the worst times, we feel that they, our safe place, has become no longer safe.
What do we do? Hear the Psalmist:
Be to me a rock of refuge, a strong fortress,
to save me, for you are my rock and my fortress.
Rescue me, O my God, from the hand of the wicked,
from the grasp of the unjust and cruel.
For you, O Lord, are my hope, my trust,
O LORD, from my youth.
Even if our eyes cannot see the rock, it is a refuge. Even if our fingers cannot feel the walls of the fortress, God is that wall about us. Wickedness will come, and not maybe. It will inflict pain, and not perhaps. Yet God will rescue us because his love is steadfast, even when the love of others, and even our own, is not.
Upon you I have leaned from my birth;
it was you who took me from my mother's womb.
My praise is continually of you.
We find comfort as a child in the arms of our parents. As an adult, we find that comfort in the arms of our spouse, or of our children. Yet after the womb, there is no constant sense of physical protection about us. We are called upon to learn to rely upon God as our all-embracing strength. We are called to venture out from our bases, our fortresses, and embrace those who need our love and care. At the same time, I think that God surrounds his children with a community to love, to touch, and embrace them so that our divinely made bodies feel and give the physical comfort of Jesus Christ, God in the flesh.
Be there for each other,
Ron
Showing posts with label safety. Show all posts
Showing posts with label safety. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 26, 2010
Monday, December 21, 2009
She who is in labor ...
Together, let us meditate on the word of the Lord:
Micah 5:2-5a
But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah,
who are one of the little clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me one who is to rule in Israel,
whose origin is from of old, from ancient days.
Can anything good happen in a small town? Can anything worthy of note come from Bethlehem, this “house of bread,” this tiny village? How often does God work with the small things - with places, things, or persons held in low esteem by humanity? The American equivalent of Bethlehem would be a small rural town on the margins of a politically insignificant state, perhaps somewhere in Oklahoma.
From this nowhere comes one who will not merely rule the world, but one who moves to restore it. This One knows how to restore this planet to its original and intended beauty because, quite simply, he was there when it was formed. To even speak of his origin reveals our ignorance.
Therefore he shall give them up until
the time when she who is in labor has brought forth;
then the rest of his kindred shall return to the people of Israel.
This small town on the margins of a small clan is a part of a larger nation. That nation wavered, time after time, in its faithfulness to its God. Every time this people chose to repent and return, God received them back. Every time, that is, until the last. When the fickleness of God’s people finally became a joke among the nations, then God let them go. God did not merely give up Jerusalem, or the Temple; the Holy One of Israel gave up the people of Israel. The holy temple was defiled, the holy city razed, the holy people scattered to the four corners of the earth. God gave them up.
But not forever. When “she who is in labor” bears her child, then the reunification of God and the people of God is to begin. Evidently the purpose of this child’s birth is to call all of God’s children back into relationship with God.
And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the LORD,
in the majesty of the name of the LORD his God.
And they shall live secure,
for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth;
He who stands is one who is thoroughly acquainted with the truth about humanity; he knows our weaknesses, our vulnerabilities. A relationship with this majestic one brings a vulnerable people into a safe place. In the midst of that safe place are resources, provision for daily living, bread for body and soul. Is it mere coincidence that the “Bread of Heaven” comes from the “house of bread?” Yet, this majestic one will point the thankful to the source of all providence, the faithful God of Israel. The wonder of the place in which this Shepherd stands becomes even more apparent as others come to understand this great One, and open their lives to him.
and he shall be the one of peace.
Knowing the truth of our weakness and unfaithfulness, the Shepherd nonetheless hopes. Amazingly, he has made peace between his God and his people. That is his truth, but what is his hope? I believe that he hopes for those who have chosen peace to choose to keep it, and for those who have yet to choose peace to do so as well. May it be so.
Peace, peace, in him there can be peace.
Grace and peace,
Ron
Micah 5:2-5a
But you, O Bethlehem of Ephrathah,
who are one of the little clans of Judah,
from you shall come forth for me one who is to rule in Israel,
whose origin is from of old, from ancient days.
Can anything good happen in a small town? Can anything worthy of note come from Bethlehem, this “house of bread,” this tiny village? How often does God work with the small things - with places, things, or persons held in low esteem by humanity? The American equivalent of Bethlehem would be a small rural town on the margins of a politically insignificant state, perhaps somewhere in Oklahoma.
From this nowhere comes one who will not merely rule the world, but one who moves to restore it. This One knows how to restore this planet to its original and intended beauty because, quite simply, he was there when it was formed. To even speak of his origin reveals our ignorance.
Therefore he shall give them up until
the time when she who is in labor has brought forth;
then the rest of his kindred shall return to the people of Israel.
This small town on the margins of a small clan is a part of a larger nation. That nation wavered, time after time, in its faithfulness to its God. Every time this people chose to repent and return, God received them back. Every time, that is, until the last. When the fickleness of God’s people finally became a joke among the nations, then God let them go. God did not merely give up Jerusalem, or the Temple; the Holy One of Israel gave up the people of Israel. The holy temple was defiled, the holy city razed, the holy people scattered to the four corners of the earth. God gave them up.
But not forever. When “she who is in labor” bears her child, then the reunification of God and the people of God is to begin. Evidently the purpose of this child’s birth is to call all of God’s children back into relationship with God.
And he shall stand and feed his flock in the strength of the LORD,
in the majesty of the name of the LORD his God.
And they shall live secure,
for now he shall be great to the ends of the earth;
He who stands is one who is thoroughly acquainted with the truth about humanity; he knows our weaknesses, our vulnerabilities. A relationship with this majestic one brings a vulnerable people into a safe place. In the midst of that safe place are resources, provision for daily living, bread for body and soul. Is it mere coincidence that the “Bread of Heaven” comes from the “house of bread?” Yet, this majestic one will point the thankful to the source of all providence, the faithful God of Israel. The wonder of the place in which this Shepherd stands becomes even more apparent as others come to understand this great One, and open their lives to him.
and he shall be the one of peace.
Knowing the truth of our weakness and unfaithfulness, the Shepherd nonetheless hopes. Amazingly, he has made peace between his God and his people. That is his truth, but what is his hope? I believe that he hopes for those who have chosen peace to choose to keep it, and for those who have yet to choose peace to do so as well. May it be so.
Peace, peace, in him there can be peace.
Grace and peace,
Ron
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
The second kick ...
Today, a friend with whom I grew up posted a wise proverb on his Facebook page:
"There is nothing to be learned from the second kick of the mule."
You might find a lot of wisdom in this, and I have to say that I agree with it. If this is so, then why do we so often find that we can recognize a particular mule by the way that it kicks? I think that there is more than one reason.
Many of us live in denial. We don’t believe that it will happen again. Just because we think that we didn’t deserve it, we magically believe that it won’t happen again. Surely the mules will figure out the error of their ways eventually!
Sometimes we’re willing the pay the price because it seems like a fair trade for doing what we want to do. I do not know what particular benefit might accrue from standing near the posterior of a mule, but I can’t rule out the possibility. Perhaps I would come running up to the back side of a mule if Kate was riding a mule and began to fall off its rump. Which is just a good reason to keep Kate away from mules (literal or figurative).
It could be that our self image is so poor that we think that we deserve the kick. Poor me. I deserve to stand behind mules. The fact that God created me and loves me is irrelevant compared to the fact that Jaime Bob or Billy Bob think that my nose hairs are too long. Just kick me. That will increase my justification for acting pathetic and helpless. If God knew that having long nose hair would be so socially painful, why did he give me this unbearable burden?
Perhaps the second kick comes because we don’t have a teacher like Jesus. Jesus seems to want to keep those he loves from the second kick. This is what I hear when I read Mark 10:35-45:
James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, "Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you."
And he said to them, "What is it you want me to do for you?"
And they said to him, "Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory."
But Jesus said to them, "You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?"
They replied, "We are able."
Then Jesus said to them, "The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared."
When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John.
Jesus called them and said to them, "You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many."
Did we catch what Jesus said? “You know that among the Gentiles . . . .” You already know this to be true. You have already been kicked by that mule. Do you really want to be kicked by that mule again because you do the very same thing again? Be wise. Learn from the first kick.
When I read this story, I think about the children that we love. Even the wisest of them have times when they get the second kick. It’s not that they don’t feel the kick. They tend to make the same irrational excuses for receiving the kick that we do. If we warn them, sometimes they will refuse to listen to us, or refuse to make the connection. Sometimes, if we are willing to be patient enough, they will let us be Jesus to them and allow us to guide them from the second kick.
This means that they will have to trust us. After all, they prejudge the usefulness of our advice by the day-to-day kindness evident in our language, the hour-to-hour love revealed by our action. If they don’t feel safe with us, how can they feel safe taking our advice?
If we want children to see us as a savior in the time of trouble, then we must first be the servant who serves, and walks, and suffers alongside them.
Blessings,
Ron
"There is nothing to be learned from the second kick of the mule."
You might find a lot of wisdom in this, and I have to say that I agree with it. If this is so, then why do we so often find that we can recognize a particular mule by the way that it kicks? I think that there is more than one reason.
Many of us live in denial. We don’t believe that it will happen again. Just because we think that we didn’t deserve it, we magically believe that it won’t happen again. Surely the mules will figure out the error of their ways eventually!
Sometimes we’re willing the pay the price because it seems like a fair trade for doing what we want to do. I do not know what particular benefit might accrue from standing near the posterior of a mule, but I can’t rule out the possibility. Perhaps I would come running up to the back side of a mule if Kate was riding a mule and began to fall off its rump. Which is just a good reason to keep Kate away from mules (literal or figurative).
It could be that our self image is so poor that we think that we deserve the kick. Poor me. I deserve to stand behind mules. The fact that God created me and loves me is irrelevant compared to the fact that Jaime Bob or Billy Bob think that my nose hairs are too long. Just kick me. That will increase my justification for acting pathetic and helpless. If God knew that having long nose hair would be so socially painful, why did he give me this unbearable burden?
Perhaps the second kick comes because we don’t have a teacher like Jesus. Jesus seems to want to keep those he loves from the second kick. This is what I hear when I read Mark 10:35-45:
James and John, the sons of Zebedee, came forward to him and said to him, "Teacher, we want you to do for us whatever we ask of you."
And he said to them, "What is it you want me to do for you?"
And they said to him, "Grant us to sit, one at your right hand and one at your left, in your glory."
But Jesus said to them, "You do not know what you are asking. Are you able to drink the cup that I drink, or be baptized with the baptism that I am baptized with?"
They replied, "We are able."
Then Jesus said to them, "The cup that I drink you will drink; and with the baptism with which I am baptized, you will be baptized; but to sit at my right hand or at my left is not mine to grant, but it is for those for whom it has been prepared."
When the ten heard this, they began to be angry with James and John.
Jesus called them and said to them, "You know that among the Gentiles those whom they recognize as their rulers lord it over them, and their great ones are tyrants over them. But it is not so among you; but whoever wishes to become great among you must be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you must be slave of all. For the Son of Man came not to be served but to serve, and to give his life a ransom for many."
Did we catch what Jesus said? “You know that among the Gentiles . . . .” You already know this to be true. You have already been kicked by that mule. Do you really want to be kicked by that mule again because you do the very same thing again? Be wise. Learn from the first kick.
When I read this story, I think about the children that we love. Even the wisest of them have times when they get the second kick. It’s not that they don’t feel the kick. They tend to make the same irrational excuses for receiving the kick that we do. If we warn them, sometimes they will refuse to listen to us, or refuse to make the connection. Sometimes, if we are willing to be patient enough, they will let us be Jesus to them and allow us to guide them from the second kick.
This means that they will have to trust us. After all, they prejudge the usefulness of our advice by the day-to-day kindness evident in our language, the hour-to-hour love revealed by our action. If they don’t feel safe with us, how can they feel safe taking our advice?
If we want children to see us as a savior in the time of trouble, then we must first be the servant who serves, and walks, and suffers alongside them.
Blessings,
Ron
Monday, August 24, 2009
Safety is not a right ...
Today’s devotional is from Shiann, and is based on an idea from The Shack:
“A child is protected because she is loved not because she has the right to be protected.”
This one was also difficult for me. We desperately want this to be false. In America, we live as if everyone is entitled to everything. As if there is a right for each of us to be free and safe and not hungry and respected and generally comfortable. We've fought over this in wars on a national level as well as gang fights on local soil.
However, was this something promised by God? I propose to you that this not a promise anywhere I have seen in the Word. If I'm wrong, please show me!
God gives no promises of safety or comfort on this earth. In turn, we cannot give that promise to others.
We can work to teach our loved ones how to make safe choices. We can provide as safe an environment as possible. That is the loving thing to do. Yet should we be surprised when our cherished one gets hurt? We can mourn and hurt for the other but to expect that "it shouldn't happen to me" is not the way God sees things. It is simply not reality. Again, it hurts and others may need to pay consequences for making hurtful choices, but we cannot assume safety.
If God were going to protect anyone, would it not have been His only Son?! Yet what happened? He says if they did this to me, the one who performed miracles, what do you think they'll do to you?
We are to rise above the world; love and respect and protect a people that doesn't love or protect or respect us. We are to show them the love of our brother, Jesus, who leads the way. He proves to us love can be returned when there is hatred, hope for despair, courage for fear.
One who stands on a right to be safe is one that repels relationship.
It is no stretch to state God's heart breaks when His children hurt. He allows us to feel the pain as well. Hang on brothers and sisters. Hold to Him as you live courageously.
Blessings,
Shiann
“A child is protected because she is loved not because she has the right to be protected.”
This one was also difficult for me. We desperately want this to be false. In America, we live as if everyone is entitled to everything. As if there is a right for each of us to be free and safe and not hungry and respected and generally comfortable. We've fought over this in wars on a national level as well as gang fights on local soil.
However, was this something promised by God? I propose to you that this not a promise anywhere I have seen in the Word. If I'm wrong, please show me!
God gives no promises of safety or comfort on this earth. In turn, we cannot give that promise to others.
We can work to teach our loved ones how to make safe choices. We can provide as safe an environment as possible. That is the loving thing to do. Yet should we be surprised when our cherished one gets hurt? We can mourn and hurt for the other but to expect that "it shouldn't happen to me" is not the way God sees things. It is simply not reality. Again, it hurts and others may need to pay consequences for making hurtful choices, but we cannot assume safety.
If God were going to protect anyone, would it not have been His only Son?! Yet what happened? He says if they did this to me, the one who performed miracles, what do you think they'll do to you?
We are to rise above the world; love and respect and protect a people that doesn't love or protect or respect us. We are to show them the love of our brother, Jesus, who leads the way. He proves to us love can be returned when there is hatred, hope for despair, courage for fear.
One who stands on a right to be safe is one that repels relationship.
It is no stretch to state God's heart breaks when His children hurt. He allows us to feel the pain as well. Hang on brothers and sisters. Hold to Him as you live courageously.
Blessings,
Shiann
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Choosing sides ...
When the Ammonites saw that they had become odious to David, the Ammonites sent and hired the Arameans of Beth-rehob and the Arameans of Zobah, twenty thousand foot soldiers, as well as the king of Maacah, one thousand men, and the men of Tob, twelve thousand men. When David heard of it, he sent Joab and all the army with the warriors. The Ammonites came out and drew up in battle array at the entrance of the gate; but the Arameans of Zobah and of Rehob, and the men of Tob and Maacah, were by themselves in the open country.
When Joab saw that the battle was set against him both in front and in the rear, he chose some of the picked men of Israel, and arrayed them against the Arameans; the rest of his men he put in the charge of his brother Abishai, and he arrayed them against the Ammonites. He said, "If the Arameans are too strong for me, then you shall help me; but if the Ammonites are too strong for you, then I will come and help you. Be strong, and let us be courageous for the sake of our people, and for the cities of our God; and may the Lord do what seems good to him."
Who would we want to fight alongside?
The Ammonites, the aggressors, take the safest position, close to the gates of their own city.
They send the Arameans, paid soldiers, to stand on their own out in the field, well on the far side of the enemy. This move effectively surrounds the Israelites, but put the Arameans in a place where they can’t retreat to safety if things go badly. If Israel breaks out (and that would be the wise tactical move), it will be away from the city.
Israel stands its ground surrounded; the two brothers choose, as generals of their respective armies, to fight back to back. You have to admit, though, their position looks really bad.
Where would we want to be?
So Joab and the people who were with him moved forward into battle against the Arameans; and they fled before him. When the Ammonites saw that the Arameans fled, they likewise fled before Abishai, and entered the city. Then Joab returned from fighting against the Ammonites, and came to Jerusalem.
But when the Arameans saw that they had been defeated by Israel, they gathered themselves together. Hadadezer sent and brought out the Arameans who were beyond the Euphrates; and they came to Helam, with Shobach the commander of the army of Hadadezer at their head. When it was told David, he gathered all Israel together, and crossed the Jordan, and came to Helam. The Arameans arrayed themselves against David and fought with him. The Arameans fled before Israel; and David killed of the Arameans seven hundred chariot teams, and forty thousand horsemen, and wounded Shobach the commander of their army, so that he died there. When all the kings who were servants of Hadadezer saw that they had been defeated by Israel, they made peace with Israel, and became subject to them. So the Arameans were afraid to help the Ammonites any more.
2 Samuel 10:6-19 – NRSV
The outcomes of everyone’s choices are obvious now, aren’t they? Those who remain obsessed with their own safety are useless when things get tough, aren’t they? And the people who are only in it for the money, the mercenaries, aren’t much better; one solid push and they’re on the road again. They only come back to fight because they know that they’ve offended the Israelites, so they might as well return with overwhelming force. A little shock and awe from the Arameans. Except it doesn’t turn out like they expected, does it?
Where is the right place to be? I would want to be one of the people who knew that people I trusted were covering my back. I’d want to know that they felt like they had as much to lose as I did. I would want to believe that our relationship was a small but sure shield from the cruel flukes of misfortune and the vicious attacks of any enemy. Right next to the bigger shield that covers me every day.
Where do we want to be? I don't know about you, but I feel that I have chosen well.
Blessings,
Ron
When Joab saw that the battle was set against him both in front and in the rear, he chose some of the picked men of Israel, and arrayed them against the Arameans; the rest of his men he put in the charge of his brother Abishai, and he arrayed them against the Ammonites. He said, "If the Arameans are too strong for me, then you shall help me; but if the Ammonites are too strong for you, then I will come and help you. Be strong, and let us be courageous for the sake of our people, and for the cities of our God; and may the Lord do what seems good to him."
Who would we want to fight alongside?
The Ammonites, the aggressors, take the safest position, close to the gates of their own city.
They send the Arameans, paid soldiers, to stand on their own out in the field, well on the far side of the enemy. This move effectively surrounds the Israelites, but put the Arameans in a place where they can’t retreat to safety if things go badly. If Israel breaks out (and that would be the wise tactical move), it will be away from the city.
Israel stands its ground surrounded; the two brothers choose, as generals of their respective armies, to fight back to back. You have to admit, though, their position looks really bad.
Where would we want to be?
So Joab and the people who were with him moved forward into battle against the Arameans; and they fled before him. When the Ammonites saw that the Arameans fled, they likewise fled before Abishai, and entered the city. Then Joab returned from fighting against the Ammonites, and came to Jerusalem.
But when the Arameans saw that they had been defeated by Israel, they gathered themselves together. Hadadezer sent and brought out the Arameans who were beyond the Euphrates; and they came to Helam, with Shobach the commander of the army of Hadadezer at their head. When it was told David, he gathered all Israel together, and crossed the Jordan, and came to Helam. The Arameans arrayed themselves against David and fought with him. The Arameans fled before Israel; and David killed of the Arameans seven hundred chariot teams, and forty thousand horsemen, and wounded Shobach the commander of their army, so that he died there. When all the kings who were servants of Hadadezer saw that they had been defeated by Israel, they made peace with Israel, and became subject to them. So the Arameans were afraid to help the Ammonites any more.
2 Samuel 10:6-19 – NRSV
The outcomes of everyone’s choices are obvious now, aren’t they? Those who remain obsessed with their own safety are useless when things get tough, aren’t they? And the people who are only in it for the money, the mercenaries, aren’t much better; one solid push and they’re on the road again. They only come back to fight because they know that they’ve offended the Israelites, so they might as well return with overwhelming force. A little shock and awe from the Arameans. Except it doesn’t turn out like they expected, does it?
Where is the right place to be? I would want to be one of the people who knew that people I trusted were covering my back. I’d want to know that they felt like they had as much to lose as I did. I would want to believe that our relationship was a small but sure shield from the cruel flukes of misfortune and the vicious attacks of any enemy. Right next to the bigger shield that covers me every day.
Where do we want to be? I don't know about you, but I feel that I have chosen well.
Blessings,
Ron
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
The stranger in our midst ...
Today, a prayer:
A Prayer for the Stranger in our Midst
O Lord,
we thank you for those loving souls
who welcomed us among your people.
Who helped us feel your welcome
and joy at our arrival in their midst.
O gracious Host,
help us to be loving souls
who welcome the stranger
into the midst of your people.
Who help the children know your welcome
as you invite them into your presence.
May you never have need to remind us
to let them come to you.
Instead may we point the way in between
our rising up and laying down,
our going out and coming in.
O Lord,
we thank you for those strong souls
who helped us to feel safe in their presence.
Who helped us understand the safety
behind you, our shield, our rock;
under the shade of your wing;
surrounded by the power of your mighty arm.
O mighty King,
help us to be a safe haven
for the widow, the orphan, the outcast.
May the danger that they bring with them
neither cause us to recoil in fear,
nor tempt us to build walls that insulate
instead of bridges that communicate.
Strengthen, O vulnerable One, our hearts
so that we may offer so secure a safety
as to call them to behave safely.
O Lord,
we thank you for those loving souls
whose loving actions helped us see
the depths of your unfathomable love.
Who helped us understand that
surrendering to your love allows that love
to conquer all things, especially those fears
that cause us to feel unsafe or cast out.
O unshakable Love,
Help us to love the unlovable
with a love that mirrors your love for us.
May neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers,
nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers,
nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation
separate a child, a stranger, an outcast one
from our love as your people,
anymore than those dear ones can be separated
from the love of your Son.
May we welcome them to the table of your Son,
make them safe by the power of your Spirit,
and love them with your love, O Lord.
Amen.
Grace and peace,
Ron
A Prayer for the Stranger in our Midst
O Lord,
we thank you for those loving souls
who welcomed us among your people.
Who helped us feel your welcome
and joy at our arrival in their midst.
O gracious Host,
help us to be loving souls
who welcome the stranger
into the midst of your people.
Who help the children know your welcome
as you invite them into your presence.
May you never have need to remind us
to let them come to you.
Instead may we point the way in between
our rising up and laying down,
our going out and coming in.
O Lord,
we thank you for those strong souls
who helped us to feel safe in their presence.
Who helped us understand the safety
behind you, our shield, our rock;
under the shade of your wing;
surrounded by the power of your mighty arm.
O mighty King,
help us to be a safe haven
for the widow, the orphan, the outcast.
May the danger that they bring with them
neither cause us to recoil in fear,
nor tempt us to build walls that insulate
instead of bridges that communicate.
Strengthen, O vulnerable One, our hearts
so that we may offer so secure a safety
as to call them to behave safely.
O Lord,
we thank you for those loving souls
whose loving actions helped us see
the depths of your unfathomable love.
Who helped us understand that
surrendering to your love allows that love
to conquer all things, especially those fears
that cause us to feel unsafe or cast out.
O unshakable Love,
Help us to love the unlovable
with a love that mirrors your love for us.
May neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor rulers,
nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers,
nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in all creation
separate a child, a stranger, an outcast one
from our love as your people,
anymore than those dear ones can be separated
from the love of your Son.
May we welcome them to the table of your Son,
make them safe by the power of your Spirit,
and love them with your love, O Lord.
Amen.
Grace and peace,
Ron
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Welcoming gifts ...
Today’s devotional thought is wrapped up in a story. Be patient until the end; this story is not about parsing Hebrew, but about an important practice for all of us.
By 2003, I had finished one graduate degree at OC, and had what I needed to maintain my position at the Home, and at most other ministries. I was still hungry to learn, though, and sought to keep growing as a person, even as a soul that was nearly twice as old as most of my peers. So I decided to do work on an MDiv.
Abilene has a larger campus than OC, and its Graduate School of Theology is much larger as well. In my first class on campus, on the very first day, there are thirty to forty graduate students present. Dr. Douglas Foster is the professor, and the class is titled “Advanced Restoration History.” For an introvert being around forty people, none of whom you know, is a stressful experience. Being at a new university is stressful. Starting a new enterprise is stressful. Being nearly fifty years old doesn’t help as much as you might think. That’s because you’re much closer to the age of the professor than any of the other students, than even the “non-traditional” students. Probably 80% of these other students have done bachelors or masters work together. I am an outsider, and, because of the knowledge of these realities, and the emotions percolating inside of me, I feel it. I don't yet feel that this is a safe place for me.
The first day is not unusual in many ways. Dr. Foster takes the class members through a series of brief self-introductions. He walks us through the syllabus. He talks about his expectations for our conduct and our work. He gives an overview of the content of the class. And he instructs us to have a proposal for our research paper ready for him by the next class meeting. A full day one.
Because of my long-term interest in children and youth, I already have an idea for my paper. At the end of class, I approach Dr. Foster to discuss my proposal. He greets me and then listens intently, ignoring the chaos of the other departing students. He then responds, “I’d like to talk with you about this further; can you walk with me? I need to put something in my office before graduate chapel.”
Surprised at his warmth, I answer, “Sure,” and we walk and talk all the way up to his office. As we work our way through the Hall of Servants, we discuss the possibilities of my idea, and, without my having to ask, he gives two or three leads on sources that might be useful for my work. Then he accompanies me through the door where we enter into the “inner sanctum” of the graduate professors to finish our talk.
“Come to graduate chapel with me,” Dr. Foster invites. And I go, because he asked.
As we enter the chapel, he introduces me to a few people, and we sit down to worship God together. Not as professor and student, but as brothers in Christ. In this beautiful space, there is a strong call to worship. One feels drawn into the singing by its beauty and power. Jack Reese then issues a wise call to the students and faculty to glorify God and serve the church through their scholarship, instead of glorifying or serving anyone or anything else, including their own egos. From that day forward, I will never miss the opportunity to be a part of that worshipping community if at all possible, even on the days when it might be good to read one more chapter, or to memorize one more conjugation.
This is the way that hospitality works.
Making people feel welcome is more than a cup of coffee, more even than a meal. It is a collection of small moments, apparently insignificant in logical terms at the time, but huge emotionally nonetheless. These moments are pivotal because the feelings of safety or danger, of warmth or coolness, or of closeness or distance, start to frame the emotional aspects of the relationship from the very first moment two people, or a person and a community meet. People immediately sense through the hospitality of a person whether the door is open or closed. The momentum of attraction to, or repulsion from, that relationship accumulates instantaneously.
What are the verbs that describe the nature of hospitality in this ten-minute window one Wednesday morning? Greeting, listening, walking, conversing, giving, accompanying, entering, inviting, introducing, worshipping.
What are the gifts enacted by those verbs of hospitality? Welcome, voice, time, dialogue, knowledge, companionship, entrée, acceptance, relationship, community. The bonus gift, perhaps the sum of them, is the feeling of safety found in this environment.
A very brief slice of time. Powerful hospitality. Reshaping a small part of a person’s view of the world, forming an enduring relationship between two people, and connecting an outsider to a community. Not a thing to do with food or drink. Yet not all refreshment enters one’s stomach. When hospitality is done well, it refreshes both the body and spirit of the host and guest (John 4).
Today, move through your world aware of your roles as guest and host; be a blessing to outsiders and community however that is possible for you.
Blessings,
Ron
By 2003, I had finished one graduate degree at OC, and had what I needed to maintain my position at the Home, and at most other ministries. I was still hungry to learn, though, and sought to keep growing as a person, even as a soul that was nearly twice as old as most of my peers. So I decided to do work on an MDiv.
Abilene has a larger campus than OC, and its Graduate School of Theology is much larger as well. In my first class on campus, on the very first day, there are thirty to forty graduate students present. Dr. Douglas Foster is the professor, and the class is titled “Advanced Restoration History.” For an introvert being around forty people, none of whom you know, is a stressful experience. Being at a new university is stressful. Starting a new enterprise is stressful. Being nearly fifty years old doesn’t help as much as you might think. That’s because you’re much closer to the age of the professor than any of the other students, than even the “non-traditional” students. Probably 80% of these other students have done bachelors or masters work together. I am an outsider, and, because of the knowledge of these realities, and the emotions percolating inside of me, I feel it. I don't yet feel that this is a safe place for me.
The first day is not unusual in many ways. Dr. Foster takes the class members through a series of brief self-introductions. He walks us through the syllabus. He talks about his expectations for our conduct and our work. He gives an overview of the content of the class. And he instructs us to have a proposal for our research paper ready for him by the next class meeting. A full day one.
Because of my long-term interest in children and youth, I already have an idea for my paper. At the end of class, I approach Dr. Foster to discuss my proposal. He greets me and then listens intently, ignoring the chaos of the other departing students. He then responds, “I’d like to talk with you about this further; can you walk with me? I need to put something in my office before graduate chapel.”
Surprised at his warmth, I answer, “Sure,” and we walk and talk all the way up to his office. As we work our way through the Hall of Servants, we discuss the possibilities of my idea, and, without my having to ask, he gives two or three leads on sources that might be useful for my work. Then he accompanies me through the door where we enter into the “inner sanctum” of the graduate professors to finish our talk.
“Come to graduate chapel with me,” Dr. Foster invites. And I go, because he asked.
As we enter the chapel, he introduces me to a few people, and we sit down to worship God together. Not as professor and student, but as brothers in Christ. In this beautiful space, there is a strong call to worship. One feels drawn into the singing by its beauty and power. Jack Reese then issues a wise call to the students and faculty to glorify God and serve the church through their scholarship, instead of glorifying or serving anyone or anything else, including their own egos. From that day forward, I will never miss the opportunity to be a part of that worshipping community if at all possible, even on the days when it might be good to read one more chapter, or to memorize one more conjugation.
This is the way that hospitality works.
Making people feel welcome is more than a cup of coffee, more even than a meal. It is a collection of small moments, apparently insignificant in logical terms at the time, but huge emotionally nonetheless. These moments are pivotal because the feelings of safety or danger, of warmth or coolness, or of closeness or distance, start to frame the emotional aspects of the relationship from the very first moment two people, or a person and a community meet. People immediately sense through the hospitality of a person whether the door is open or closed. The momentum of attraction to, or repulsion from, that relationship accumulates instantaneously.
What are the verbs that describe the nature of hospitality in this ten-minute window one Wednesday morning? Greeting, listening, walking, conversing, giving, accompanying, entering, inviting, introducing, worshipping.
What are the gifts enacted by those verbs of hospitality? Welcome, voice, time, dialogue, knowledge, companionship, entrée, acceptance, relationship, community. The bonus gift, perhaps the sum of them, is the feeling of safety found in this environment.
A very brief slice of time. Powerful hospitality. Reshaping a small part of a person’s view of the world, forming an enduring relationship between two people, and connecting an outsider to a community. Not a thing to do with food or drink. Yet not all refreshment enters one’s stomach. When hospitality is done well, it refreshes both the body and spirit of the host and guest (John 4).
Today, move through your world aware of your roles as guest and host; be a blessing to outsiders and community however that is possible for you.
Blessings,
Ron
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Expecting safety, experiencing fear, feeling angry
“Be afraid. Be very afraid.” People who are parents, and people who serve in the place of parents, are going to experience fear.
This is because their children will do things, or their children will experience things, that will scare them silly. Consider the example of Mary:
Now every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day's journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends.
When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, "Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety." He said to them, "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. His mother treasured all these things in her heart.
And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.
Luke 2:41-52 - NRSV
It is not difficult to imagine the fear of Mary and Joseph. Think about needing to say this prayer: “O Lord, it appears that we have lost your only begotten son. Help!” It wouldn’t help to know that God would already be perfectly aware of your dilemma. Of your parental shortcomings. The sinking feeling that a parent has in their gut when they know something is wrong for one of their children can be an overwhelming kind of fear.
A troubled pregnancy. An uncontrolled fever. Crying that won’t stop. The unexpected visit to the emergency room. Missing in the mall. The unimaginable fall. An encounter with truly evil people. A car accident. A poor choice for a romantic relationship. For any parent that is awake, these can be fearful situations.
But look what happens when the fear is past. Anger. Anger taken to the very limit of words. Even from the saintly Mary. Can’t you hear it in her voice? “Child, why have you treated us like this?”
The reality is that anger frequently follows fear. Why is this? As humans we have an expectation of safety even though we are intelligent enough to know that the world is not exactly a safe place. To be able to function at all, those of us who maintain some level of sanity learn how to deal with that lack of safety. Sometimes we establish complex systems designed to guarantee that safety. We choose houses in certain locations, either for their remoteness or the level of police protection. We install locks. We exercise vigilance. We practice denial. Which is all fine until you take those precious babies outside your little castle and have them interact with other human beings.
Every measure of safety can be defeated. Which means that safety is too frequently is either relative or an illusion. Yet there is one exception to the safety problem. God. Hear the words of David:
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer,
my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation,
my stronghold and my refuge,
my savior; you save me from violence.
I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised,
and I am saved from my enemies.
2 Samuel 22:2-4 – NRSV
(If you really want to feel safe in the protection of God, read the rest of that chapter.) Do you think perhaps that even the courageous David experienced fear and anger? I think that it is a near certainty. Yet the source of safety for this great person was God. Only God.
So how will we avoid anger after we experience fear? I don’t think that we can or ought to try to stop the feelings, but I do think that we need to be careful what we do with them. I don’t think that we can avoid the anger, but we have listen to what it is telling us. Our expectation of safety has been disappointed. How can we regain safety? There may be things that we can do. But if it is possible at all, it will be with our God, our Rock. We must trust him, and believe, even when it is not readily apparent, that he is in control (and ought to be).
One other thing. If dealing with fear and anger are so difficult for us as adults, who have some level of maturity (mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual), can we imagine what this fear and anger might be like for a child? Can we contemplate the overwhelming feelings that an abused or neglected child feels when they have been living in the survival mode, the mode of fear, for years? Can we imagine the anger on the other side of their fear? Perhaps thinking about this will move us to construct a little corner of God’s kingdom in our homes so that the children in our care can experience safety. Perhaps for the first time in recent history. Yet they may have to experience safety for a while before they can make safe, and not angry, choices for themselves.
Lean upon the Rock. Hide behind him on the really tough days. He wants you to rely on him.
Blessings,
Ron
This is because their children will do things, or their children will experience things, that will scare them silly. Consider the example of Mary:
Now every year his parents went to Jerusalem for the festival of the Passover. And when he was twelve years old, they went up as usual for the festival. When the festival was ended and they started to return, the boy Jesus stayed behind in Jerusalem, but his parents did not know it. Assuming that he was in the group of travelers, they went a day's journey. Then they started to look for him among their relatives and friends.
When they did not find him, they returned to Jerusalem to search for him. After three days they found him in the temple, sitting among the teachers, listening to them and asking them questions. And all who heard him were amazed at his understanding and his answers. When his parents saw him they were astonished; and his mother said to him, "Child, why have you treated us like this? Look, your father and I have been searching for you in great anxiety." He said to them, "Why were you searching for me? Did you not know that I must be in my Father's house?” But they did not understand what he said to them. Then he went down with them and came to Nazareth, and was obedient to them. His mother treasured all these things in her heart.
And Jesus increased in wisdom and in years, and in divine and human favor.
Luke 2:41-52 - NRSV
It is not difficult to imagine the fear of Mary and Joseph. Think about needing to say this prayer: “O Lord, it appears that we have lost your only begotten son. Help!” It wouldn’t help to know that God would already be perfectly aware of your dilemma. Of your parental shortcomings. The sinking feeling that a parent has in their gut when they know something is wrong for one of their children can be an overwhelming kind of fear.
A troubled pregnancy. An uncontrolled fever. Crying that won’t stop. The unexpected visit to the emergency room. Missing in the mall. The unimaginable fall. An encounter with truly evil people. A car accident. A poor choice for a romantic relationship. For any parent that is awake, these can be fearful situations.
But look what happens when the fear is past. Anger. Anger taken to the very limit of words. Even from the saintly Mary. Can’t you hear it in her voice? “Child, why have you treated us like this?”
The reality is that anger frequently follows fear. Why is this? As humans we have an expectation of safety even though we are intelligent enough to know that the world is not exactly a safe place. To be able to function at all, those of us who maintain some level of sanity learn how to deal with that lack of safety. Sometimes we establish complex systems designed to guarantee that safety. We choose houses in certain locations, either for their remoteness or the level of police protection. We install locks. We exercise vigilance. We practice denial. Which is all fine until you take those precious babies outside your little castle and have them interact with other human beings.
Every measure of safety can be defeated. Which means that safety is too frequently is either relative or an illusion. Yet there is one exception to the safety problem. God. Hear the words of David:
The Lord is my rock, my fortress, and my deliverer,
my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
my shield and the horn of my salvation,
my stronghold and my refuge,
my savior; you save me from violence.
I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised,
and I am saved from my enemies.
2 Samuel 22:2-4 – NRSV
(If you really want to feel safe in the protection of God, read the rest of that chapter.) Do you think perhaps that even the courageous David experienced fear and anger? I think that it is a near certainty. Yet the source of safety for this great person was God. Only God.
So how will we avoid anger after we experience fear? I don’t think that we can or ought to try to stop the feelings, but I do think that we need to be careful what we do with them. I don’t think that we can avoid the anger, but we have listen to what it is telling us. Our expectation of safety has been disappointed. How can we regain safety? There may be things that we can do. But if it is possible at all, it will be with our God, our Rock. We must trust him, and believe, even when it is not readily apparent, that he is in control (and ought to be).
One other thing. If dealing with fear and anger are so difficult for us as adults, who have some level of maturity (mental, physical, emotional, and spiritual), can we imagine what this fear and anger might be like for a child? Can we contemplate the overwhelming feelings that an abused or neglected child feels when they have been living in the survival mode, the mode of fear, for years? Can we imagine the anger on the other side of their fear? Perhaps thinking about this will move us to construct a little corner of God’s kingdom in our homes so that the children in our care can experience safety. Perhaps for the first time in recent history. Yet they may have to experience safety for a while before they can make safe, and not angry, choices for themselves.
Lean upon the Rock. Hide behind him on the really tough days. He wants you to rely on him.
Blessings,
Ron
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