The Stillness, the Hush!

          Jan and I find ourselves entirely alone at 2:30 on a Sunday afternoon . . . it's bizarre. We're both kicked back with full stomachs and relaxed in our recliners. But, the stillness, the hush, the emptiness is haunting. I don't remember the last time this has happened; it almost seems as though it has never occurred. 

          At our home, Sundays have been days reserved for worship, for rest, and for family. This pattern started several years back. Lately, some of our grandchildren, being older, have Sunday afternoon activities. Some other family members feel it necessary to work. Various other events occasionally interrupt. Today, it's everyone occupied somewhere. Today is definitely oddball. I don't like it. It makes me feel somehow irrelevant---and lonely.

         The Sabbath most basically was established by God to be a day of rest and recovery---not in some legalistic sense, but as a general, ongoing guideline. God created it this way. Jesus illustrated it. And, we have the obligation to maintain God's universe and ways. 

     My entire life I've tried to guard this principle without being a judicious fanatic about it. Failing to keep God's ordained guidelines, however, brings eventually some sort of payback . . . so I caution all to diligently keep God's Day holy, devoted to Him and His purposes, not to ours. 

     Christmas is less than a week away! Our illustrious Congress is granting us a tax cut and simplification---life is sweet. For what more could we ask? 

  Please live your lives knowing this is a God-centered universe! And we wish each of you a very Merry Christmas . . .
         

Our Selfish Needs Twist Its Significance

     I couldn't sleep this morning, so here I am awake at 4:30...reclining in one of our family room chairs wrapped in a blanket with the Christmas tree lights gleaming.

     

     Since Christmas is a week away, I decided in this stillness to re-read and re-consider the Gospel accounts of the birth of Jesus. The things our culture has done to that fine story!  We've elaborated on it, Romanticized it, twisted it, focused on our chosen parts of it, created artsy Nativity scenes depicting it, turned it into a story for little kids. We've SELF-absorbed this event into a tale that suits our individual tastes---and our culture's permission.

     

     And that's just wrong, folks.

   But, perhaps, not as destructive as those who have dismissed it, mocked it, joked about it. Therein lies a tragedy. To the degree that we've interpreted this Birth in terms of our individual needs and experiences and, thus, belittled its significance---we have failed ourselves and all  of them, thus dressing ourselves in guilt. 

     Interpreting life using only our own experiences leads to partial truth; interpreting it based upon our selfish needs twists its significance. This Birth, and our chance for Second Birth, requires us to avoid those errors---it also demands that we function purely from faith, eliminating logic and emotions and placing ourselves to the degree possible into a willfulness to accept and commit. At that point, intervention happens and one will receive eternal life in a relationship with Jesus.

     There's no "understanding" it or "feeling" it that somehow makes it real---our simple trust and the conviction of the Holy Spirit do that. This mystical part of my personal life with Jesus goes, I fear, without adequate explanation---it's a "knowing," one which many I fear may never grasp. 

     I would challenge each of you to re-read and re-consider. Find some "stillness" somewhere in the busy-ness of your life, and listen. Let the story of that event speak itself beyond your logic and your reason. With that, I wish all a Merry Christmas! 

We Weren't Talking to Each Other at All

     I've been away from my blog almost completely these past several months. Not sure why...got caught up with other activities, I suppose. And now, I'm back to it---also with no known reason why. But, I do want to leave some of my thoughts for my family members (and others who might get curious).

     We recently gave up our satellite TV & internet service and have gone to a program offered by Verizon which includes those [and, oh, that marvelous Netflix!] with our telephones, in a bundle. We put up a $30 antenna that gets us also twenty some-odd channels---trying to save dollars and still be in the know and up to snuff. My retirement allows entire evenings to be utilized by these various fascinating venues.

     Which gets me to where I was heading. These technological pathways are rewarding, time-consuming, and some would say addicting. I don't know how positive or negative this activity actually is. But, I know at one point this past Sunday with 14 people in our home, 12 were absorbed almost exclusively perusing some kind of device---tablet or phone or TV. Communal communication was supremely limited, that is to say, we weren't talking to each other at all. [When televisions first came to my childhood village in the 1950's, I recall several old timers proclaiming them weapons of Satan. My aged grandmother who lived next door even had difficulty determining if televised programs were real or fiction.]

     Perhaps, communication isn't what it's cracked up to be. George Bernard Shaw said, "The single biggest problem with communication is the illusion that it has taken place," perhaps to be illustrated in "Don't you text me in that tone of voice!" All I feel very sure about in this area after 71 years of observation is that Language is just one more tool in the belt of humanity---bringing occasional great Good and occasional great Evil.

     The book of James in the Bible offers some great advice about the use of the human tongue. I would recommend it to all---all who know me understand that I probably should be the first one to put this advice into practice.

     I guess communicating is like everything else. Balance is all-important!

 
 

She Blossoms When They Smile

        I started this blog a few years ago with it in mind that it would be a way for my kids and even more my grandchildren to have insight later on into how I saw life. The birth of Jesus is thus a very appropriate topic.
     
      Another Christmas is arriving! I've had 71 already. My wife's enthusiasm for the holiday activities drags me (lazily, not reluctantly) along with it. She does yeoman service, determined to create wonder for her grandchildren. I marvel at her loving efforts! She blossoms when they smile. The ease of online shopping enhances her ability to accomplish some of her fascinating outcomes for them. Not to be intentionally morbid, but (at my age, such things are relevant) what a head-rattling shock the kids would have if she were gone and I were responsible for making their holiday bright.
        
         Everything, not just Christmas and a beautiful wife of 48 years, is sweeter as one moves toward the end of one's years, if one's health and wealth and relationships allow . . . God has certainly blessed me. 
         
         I, as have many others, would caution all not to get too caught up with the gifts and presents---they are super in themselves. But, that sense of giving is the largest element of the Season. That making others happy. That effort of their grandmother. That awareness of God's gift to humanity---His Son. That saving touch of the eternal into the temporal.
         
         The tree, the lights, the shopping, the fellowship with family and friends, the food---all should increase our understanding and appreciation of Love . . . and please don't get so caught up with the "season" that you forget those who are troubled and deprived. Reach out as best you can. Jesus will honor all efforts!
         
         Let me close with saying Merry Christmas to all my family and friends. God's blessings upon you!
        

We Have Sheepishly Followed

     I've been away from my blog for several months. Tied up with numerous daily activities. Got to thinking about the chaos that has invaded Christianity recently and wanted to make some remarks about it.
     Those "in charge" have messed up thoroughly I'm afraid. We have sheepishly followed. The Church is the Bride of Christ, not Ours! But, we've decided to make it conform to our human ways of thinking and human emotions and personality---just as many spouses insist on trying to mold their mates to fit their needs. As human individuals and culture are marred and always have been, so we often misuse God's Bride.

   We've pushed into an out-of-the-way corner repentance, we've diminished almost intentionally understanding and awareness of the Holy Spirit, we've substituted to some degree fellowship meals, youth rallies, faster soundtracks, positive-love sermons, and other human-centered concepts for God-centered worship. We've accepted the necessity of today's much-lauded inclusiveness to gain attendance numbers for the exclusiveness presented in scripture. 

    So, yep . . . Who am I? Who am I to bemoan these matters and indiscriminately criticize (evaluate?) the Church in such a generalized manner. I don't know. I don't claim any marvelous wisdom or expertise or spiritual status. I'm 72 now. I've worshiped in one particular Southern Baptist church for years now.  I've watched as my life and opinions and beliefs have become, to many, more and more irrelevant and outdated. Yes, at times, I feel a bit sorry for myself as I realize my age and outdated experiences sometimes seem to diminish my worth.

     Yet, I'm convicted---totally convinced---that truth is unchanging despite seeming cultural and scientific variations, some that are very drastic indeed (Wow, artificial intelligence)! Despite cultural self-centeredness. Change has been the mainspring of my last two decades. From my first reading of "narrow is the gate," I've marveled at that "exclusive" element in Jesus's words. I still do. Perhaps, current-day Christians would be wise to deal with that aspect of Jesus in a little greater depth. God bless all of you!

      

     

   

I Am Now History---and so are you

As a retired teacher of 30 years, I am constantly encountering former students. Often (pleasantly I have to admit) they say the kindest things to me when we encounter each other. Not too long ago, I happened upon one in a cafe. As I stood listening, she introduced me to her grandkids by informing them that I was a "legendary" teacher from their school's past. I was flattered. But, later, that word stepped upon a sensitive neighborhood in my usually peaceful soul. I pondered. In some very real sense, I am now history. Part of me has "died." It's over . . . one entire part of my life. Legendary? It's history. And other parts, too?

What happened? "Legends" are in the past. As far as my teaching years, it's true. I am "in" the past. It's okay (I think). I worked the front desk of a government agency for nine years after I retired from teaching. Retired from there now, for several years. And, yes, that's over, too. Another death. Another era of my history. You know, you just walk away . . . and going back isn't even an option. You really can "never go home again." A few of your friends may walk away in the general direction you're heading, but even they will eventually, surely turn to tend to their own, personal gardens.

One recalls moments as though reading about them in a book---experiences, people, joys and trials---but my imagination is a frenzied squirrel, darting about indecisively, unable to conjure up a complete image. By chance you learn that such-and-such ex-student is a grandfather and another may even be a great-grandmother! You learn that many have passed away. And, by cliche, it just doesn't seem possible. It doesn't seem possible that that much time has gone by. You remember them as kids. Good grief. It seems warped--eerily distorted. The value of life, I finally conclude, is mysteriously, intimately interwoven with the passing of time. 

That spectral passing of time reverberates through the Biblical repetitions of "These are the generations of . . ." and so-and-so begat so-and-so. Those passages nearly impossible to read emphasize something that happens in each of our lives. The passing of time---the movement of our lives.

Where is my rambling going to end? Somewhere here tossing about in a wonderment about time and life and how they do or don't fit into my concept of eternity. I really don't know. I do know that my Hope lies in the resurrection of Jesus Christ---and despite the disdain for this concept nowadays by so many of my fellow Americans, I will claim that belief as a reality . . . and so, in a greater, vital sense, my history is just beginning and has the potential to be so fine! God be with you. He loves you.

Good Grief. Who Do We Think We Are?

I'm beginning to age. And that's okay. It's the established process of life. 

However, in my older years, certain things stand out more than others, as I consider my life and experiences. Telling lies, even living those lies, has become so acceptable; cheating of all kinds has become more than marginally okay, provided one can find some kind, almost any kind, of excuse for it; living behind a false and perhaps glorified facade of hypocrisy has become okay, even expected.

Not to say that deliberate deceit, dishonesty, and manipulative deception are somehow new; they obviously are not. Yet, there's an acceptance, an approval, a shutting of the collective eyes more and more to these immoral practices that concerns me.

Lying and cheating are curses that will grow along with children as they grow, and once they get good at it, usually increase pretty quickly, and it is nearly impossible to correct. Pinocchio's elongating nose leads inevitably to a donkey. Each lie makes the next one easier to tell. Now, politicians, theologians, and celebrities of all types have learned to tell the really big lie, then "sincerely" apologize as a foolproof way to further whatever their cause or need.

Watching the USA's society generally slipping into moral decay causes me to feel very old---and tired. While I'm at it, let me consider another practice that I'm observing that I don't believe was prevalent when I was younger. Most Americans have a very strange and sentimental grasp of the meaning of unconditional love. God's love has conditions; He is not Big Daddy ready to supply our every whim. He is the creator, the Lord, of this majestic universe. Pardon me, as I dip my feet into the waters of theology, just to wade out a little way.

Even in the Garden of Eden, God gave humans a condition---we could eat of anything in the garden freely, EXCEPT the tree of the knowledge of good and evil. Later, God sent his son Jesus to die for our sins---God's integrity, His justness, His holiness, His love are conditional upon the cross and Jesus' death and resurrection. Our eternal future is completely conditional upon our faith in this expiation, this mandatory reconciliation.

Love, true love, involves the ebb and flow of innumerable responses on our part---and our responses are always conditional. God has good will [love] toward Man alright, but outcomes of this love depend upon our responses. God's love in His relationships with us is always available, but conditional. So what?

God's love has conditions---His conditions. We should not conclude that all He really wants for us is happiness and easiness and possession of all our wants. Life is about Him, not us. Heaven will be about Him, not us. We are to worship Him, not His worshiping us. So . . . quit being so full of yourself and look to God and look to other humans---build your life there in love for them.

God's love is not some small, wimpy, Romantic, slobbering-all-over-you, you-gorgeous-wonderful-you, love. He doesn't somehow owe you that, nor does He ask me to love you in that manner either. It's a love that is intentional, thoughtful, purposeful, and freely given.

That's what I'm seeing in my old age:  People are living in a pseudo-world of narcissism and seem not even to be aware of it. Even in the Church, God's Church, humans have become more important than God and His will. Ah, but I ramble . . . that's what old age will do to one.

Hmm . . . more important than God and His will? Good grief, who do we think we are? Get over this false interpretation of unconditional love and quit basing your life on lies and cheating.