Keeper of the Lamp

Keeper of the lamp

Exodus 27:20-21

“You shall command the people of Israel that they bring to you pure beaten olive oil for the light, that a lamp may regularly be set up to burn.  In the tent of meeting, outside the veil that is before the testimony, Aaron and his sons shall tend it from evening to morning before the LORD.  It shall be a statute forever to be observed throughout their generations by the people of Israel.”

I am the keeper of the lamp.

The collector of the oil

What a purity, what a beautiful thing it is

A light that burn with no smoke to blur its brightness

A light that burn to remind us to praise our God

I am the keeper of the lamp.

I am one of the family of Gods beloved  children

I gaze intently at the hue of its glow day in and day out.

In the morning I rise to tend to the flame

At night I care for it as a shepherd to its flock

I am the keeper of the lamp.

My heart worships with the never fading light

I am the keeper of the lamp.

A child of God on high

A bearer of His holy name

A servant to His will

And a lover of His covenant

I am a keeper of the lamp.

I shall tend it from evening to  the very lights of the morn

I will observe its beauty and testament

I will worship it for the rest of my days

His lamp is and will be a statute forever

I am the keeper of the lamp.

My heart worships with the never fading light

My Pet Peeve

            One of my biggest pet peeves is how quickly we, as Christians, write other Christians off. The example I’ll specifically use to get my point across is Rob Bell. Bell was an evangelical superstar. Between his Nooma video series, and books such as Velvet Elvis, or Sex God, Bell was praised as being thought provoking, engaging and a phenomenal communicator. With countless small groups, youth groups, churches going through his work, Bell’s influence on the American church was significant to say the least. However, when Bell came out with one of the most controversial Christian books of the past couple decades everything hit the fan. Those "thought provoking questions" were no longer considered, because they made us uncomfortable. That incredible gift of communication was disregarded, because he was attempting to communicate heresy. Therefore, the Church had a book burning of all that is Rob Bell (Not literally of course… Well, none that I’m aware of).  Even though, most people critiquing Rob Bell had never read his book, Love Wins. Wendall Berry has a wonderful quote on this stating, “the first rule of the criticism of books: you have to read them before you criticize them.”[1] Anything that had been produced from the thoughts of Rob Bell became completely irrelevant. Apparently, because he had different views on one aspect of theology, nothing he ever said was worth listening to. I strongly oppose this line of thinking.

            There are quite a few things I disagree with when it comes to Mark Driscoll. From his attitude, and how he presents himself, to a couple major theological points. But, I would consider myself foolish and ignorant to say I’m never going to listen to anything he says based on his views of women’s roles and leadership. This also boils down to a deeper seeded problem we as Christians, including myself, struggle with, and that is disagreeing theologically. We have to move away from our initial gut reaction of “burn them at the stake,” when we find ourselves in theological contention with others. Anthony Le Donne sums up what our approach should be, and it’s more eloquent than what I have to say. In a discussion on if Jesus was a Zealot he states, “I think there is quite a virtue in having scholars of all faiths, of all backgrounds, in the conversation [of who Jesus was]. I think we can only become more intelligent with more voices, and the diversity of voices involved.”[2]

            Let us learn from others. Let us learn from disagreement, and let us grow through challenging positions.

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[1] Berry, Wendell. "Christianity and the Survival of Creation." Sex, Economy, Freedom & Community: Eight Essays. New York: Pantheon, 1993. 94. 

[2] Aslan, Reza, and Anthony Le Donne. "Was Jesus Just... a Zealot." Interview by Justin Brielrey. Unbelievable?.  Premier Christian Radio.

Worshipping Through Gracie

            As a quick preface, I realize worship extends beyond only singing, but for the sake of this reflection, every time worship is mentioned it will refer to the worship in the form of singing.
            What a joyous thing worship is. It is the ability to combine lifting high the name of the Lord through the beauty of music. Allowing the gift of music, the pleasing sounds of both instruments and voices to fill our ears, and then to reciprocate that and direct it to the Lord of hosts. One of the best worshippers I have ever witnessed is my dear friend Gracie. Gracie is a senior in my youth group who has William’s disease. She is single handedly the biggest sweetheart I have ever met, who freely gives the gift of joy to others. It is physically impossible to look her in the eye while she is smiling, and not offer back a smile of your own.
            Sometimes when I enter into a time of worship I can miss the privilege it truly is. I don’t intentionally focus on the love, redemption, power, and joy that is the Lord our God. Gracie however, never misses an opportunity to worship. As soon as that first guitar chord is strum, or the clicking of the drum sticks beings, Gracie knows. A smile spreads across her face, and her head begins to bob. Her short, tight curls stay perfectly in place as her head moves forward and back, perfectly in beat with the music. Worship is the greatest part of Gracie’s week, and this is very clear to those around her. She brings a new joy, a simple, perfect joy that is contagious. The congregation around her recognizes her joy, and joins in with smiles, and singing.
            Her outward expression of joy is not limited to her smile, but her whole body. Knees bending, hands shaking, Gracie invents her own dance. With the beat of the music flowing through her, embracing worship with her whole being. Singing is not limited to mind, and soul, but whole mind, whole body, and whole soul. Though I attend a fairly free church, Gracie is consistently the only one dancing, but she doesn’t care. It’s not about who joins, its about her worshipping the way she was created to worship. Her own, unique, beautiful, fully engaging way.
            When I mentioned earlier Gracie moves to the beat of the music it wasn’t just an expression. She has the most incredible sense of rhythm. She shows this in movement, and her clapping. One of the boys in my youth group is a phenomenal drummer in the band. He told me a story about how one time the monitors went out and he couldn’t hear the rest of the band. However, he was able to stay on beat by watching Gracie clap. Gracie has a booming clap, and when she starts, again, the whole congregation joins in. Typically, after she starts the clapping, she’ll stop and go back to her dance, but by then she doesn’t need to continue because the whole church is clapping, and the energy or worship has increased all because of one little girl.
            Gracie reveals to me several things in worship. Every opportunity is a gift. Worship is
 something that is habitual, but is always new. This is who our God is, always constant, but constantly revealing himself in new ways. Also, joy is contagious. When we come to the Lord recognizing the joy of the incarnation, the joy he has instilled in us, our outward appearance will reflect this genuine joy that others will take notice of and join in. The more I’m engaging in worship, physically and mentally, the more I am offering myself to the Lord, and the more easily it is to enter into his presence. Finally, faith is meant to be done together, and this includes worship. We feed off of each other’s energy. I can tell you, there are often times I’ve entered worship with a heavy heart, but when I recognize Gracie’s energy I am reminded of the goodness, love, redemption, and faithfulness of the Lord in all circumstances, and that is why he is worthy to be worship

The Hungry Beloved

Reflections on Matthew 4:1-11

            He was hungry. These are the words used to describe Jesus after his 40 days in the desert. He wasn’t “spiritually recharged,” he wasn’t on a “spiritual high.” After 40 days of fasting and praying in the wilderness Jesus was hungry. Hunger, a feeling of a man, not a deity. I find when I think about Christ, I immediately think of him first as God. Yet, I am told Christ is fully God AND fully man. I think what it comes down to is it’s kind of scary to think of my savior as fully man. As I see the brokenness, the injustice, the pain all around, it isn’t a mystery whose fault it is, mans. I don’t want to think of my God as being one of these creatures, but this is where the LORD called Jesus. Fully man. Jesus’ vocation, his mission, the place he was called to be was man. The story continues… after acknowledging Christ’s vulnerability, his fatigue, the accuser comes with his tricks.

            He comes with slyness, deceit, trickery, and begins doing what he does best, slandering, and accusing. With a savvy tongue he begins business, and attempts to call Jesus away from his home, his calling. The accuser first appeals to Christ physical state, calling him away from his humanness towards the deity. A simple miracle is all the accuser asks for, besides Jesus will do plenty in the future, but Jesus resist. He knows where he is called. Defeated, the next trick is put into action attacking Jesus loneliness. If God were with you, he’d protect you. Yet again, Christ stays rooted in the Holy Scriptures, knowing his true home. In a last ditch attempt the accuser makes an attempt at man’s desire to be know by others, to be valued, to have power. Christ again, resting in his previous studying of scriptures, is ready to respond. And the accuser departs, feeling frustrated, looking for an easier target.

            The accuser works in this same way today. His plan hasn’t changed, but his cunningness is far beyond my own wisdom. The attack comes when I’m weak, tired, frustrated. This is the time I am most susceptible to listening to the lies he pours into my head. “You’re alone. God isn’t here. You’re exhausted. You’re only this. You’re only that. You’re missing out. You’re not good enough. You need more power. You’re in control.” But, I stay rooted in the beautiful gift that is the scriptures. The precious strength, the holy gem, the magnificent love story that is the Bible. I come back to MY Truth, MY vocation, MY calling here on earth, which is simply to be God’s Beloved. I am His Beloved child. Who is cared for, and dearly loved with an unconditional, passionate, redemptive love by the creator God of the cosmos. The accuser will keep coming, calling me away from my home. His timing is perfect. His lies are crafty. But I will look to the example of Christ. I will remain rooted in the absolute fact that I am covered by the steadfast love of God who redeems and restores me. I am God’s Beloved.

Make Me A Tree

            The lake is quiet right now. With no noise from campers or click of my radio all I can hear is the wind rippling over the shallow water, and the occasional buss of a dragonfly. My sunburn itches and my fingernails are filthy with red clay, but the day is so still; it doesn’t seem like a problem. Sitting on this half broken bench I look at the trees before me. Each one, massive, bordering the soft cloudless blue sky. They draw me in. Tall beyond understanding, alive beyond comprehension and beautiful beyond words, so deeply rooted and pointing so high to the sky. I want to be like a tree, God. Like a big, enormous, strong, beautiful, deeply rooted tree. A tree that is alive, and fixed solely on growing to the heavens. A tree whose limbs point not only up, but also out, and gently entangles with others around it. I want to be a tree amongst trees. A forest, a community of trees that whisper your splendor as the wind passes through them. I bask in your glory, which right now for me, is looking at trees. It’s funny to know that you are a creator and a perfect, perfect designer. You make beautiful things. Period. Raise me up to be a tree, oh God.

Pillar of Cloud

I just keep coming back to this idea of the pillar of cloud.  The Lord went before them in the pillar of cloud each day (13:21).  The presence of the Guiding God “did not depart” from the peoples sight.  The pillar of cloud would descend and the Lord would speak (33:9). 

Each day, never fleeting, guiding, governing, leading forth, bestowing and talking with his people.  His children. 

What would it look like if we sought to acknowledge the pillar of cloud.  The absolute presence of the Lord our God who leads us each day. 

My prayer is that my life would be one lead by the pillar of cloud.  Lead by the power and governing hand of the Lord.  A life that is glorifying to His Great Name and one that accepts, follows and sits patiently to listen, in the presence of God.

I ask myself what would it have looked like! Was it something that physically happened or was it just a metaphor!  Either way.  This is my prayer. 

Lord we want your cloud.  We want your presence to lead us by day and by night.  To descend upon us and bestow your love upon us.  I pray that the way the people of the village would see your presence with Moses, may people see your pillar of cloud with me.  May I live and conduct myself, and my relationships, in a way that is led by a beautiful, breathtaking, entrancing pillar of cloud.  Your presence O my God. 

You are my beloved and I am yours.  May I live actively in your presence and walk faithfully, eyes fixed, on your pillar of cloud. Amen

Learning Lent

Lent is a journey I am invited into through the beauty of the Church and its calendar. This journey is a story, a story that has carried the same themes and motifs found over, and over in scripture; it is the same grand master story I am invited into today, to be a character, to participate, to grow. The narrative begins with the recognition of my condition as a human being. I am broken, a broken person who sins, choosing my selfishness over the Almighty.

Ash Wednesday marks the first day of lent and begins my journey. Ash, a representation of death, forces me to accept the solemn event in life that is bitter death. Truth of my mortality, my deserving fate floods my mind, while Paul’s words ring repeatedly, “for the wages of sin is death.” I am broken. I am fallen. I need the Almighty. Somber truths must be established to better understand the story that is God’s redemption.

As lent continues, I look to the life of Christ, attempting to understand the mystical beauty that is the incarnation. A rich, mystery that provides me with a physical representation of the Almighty reaching his hand down to his people, and meeting them where they dwell, where they reside.  Through disciplines previously set, such as fasting, serving, and silence I reflect every day on the incarnation. That is the point of these disciplines, not to prove to myself I can be disciplined for forty days, but to permanently change, grow through the meditation of what the incarnation means for me daily. My once pensive mood has now become awed wonder at the way the Almighty’s love is being demonstrated.

Finally, I move towards Holy week, the point where full redemption will be realized. I am reaching the conclusion, the final end of my journey, which ends in the Almighty’s saving grace. Palm Sunday begins, and my story has reached joyful celebration. I celebrate the realization of who my saving king truly is. My final realizations prepare me for the ultimate act of saving redemption will be demonstrated through Easter.

In no way will I fully grasp the full weight of the resurrection, and this is a mystery I am comfortable never knowing all the answers to. However, I am fully aware the more I strive to understand the richness, and depth of this moment in history, the more I will change. I desire to more deeply comprehend Easter. But, I am aware I will never have a chance at understanding the Almighty’s redemption if I do not prepare my heart through the gift, discipline, and story that lent is.