God's delight

COMPLETED AS PROMISED -

CELEBRATING GOD'S FAITHFULNESS

"God's Promise for Broken Lives" Zephaniah 3:14-20

"The Lord your God is with you...He will take great delight in you." (v. 17)

Don't you love doting aunts and uncles? I had several, but one aunt more than any of the others, seemed to take delight in me! I was the flower girl in her wedding. Several summers I got to spend a week or so with her and her family. They were so much fun! They went swimming every single day! She was also the perfect hostess! When you visited, no matter how many people were there, we did these really fun things and then returned home where a wonderful meal was on the table in minutes due to her ahead-of-time preparation! I wanted to be just like her! She just turned 90 and I still feel like a very special person in her presence!

Imagine a God who takes delight in you? How cool is that? Most days I don't feel like a very good candidate for someone to take delight in! I'm not as organized as I would like to be; I am forgetful; I get impatient when my plans go awry; I tend to overcommit; and the list goes on and on, but yet, God still takes delight...in me! And you! Wow! What a promise!

The Advent season is a busy one! We are often weary, frazzled and frustrated by this point. Too much to do; too little time! Just for a moment, stop! Take a deep breath...(inhale - exhale). Take a moment to delight in loving and serving a God who loves you more than anyone has ever loved you! Ahhhhh, ..feels good, doesn't it?

Thank you, God, for promises kept.

Jeanie McGowan

...all by itself...



"...all by itself..."

Mark 4:26-34

He also said, "This is what the kingdom of God is like.  A man scatters seed on the ground...the seed sprouts and grows, though he does not know how. All by itself the soil produces grain..."

OK. I have something I need to confess.  I am a littel bit of a control freak...well, maybe more than a little. I like to solve problems and fix things. I'm not totally a control freak, though.  If I have a good leader, I can be a good follower.  But if that leader refuses to lead, balks at the plate, is uncertain and wavering--then it drives me crazy!  I want to get organized and get going! 

I suspect that if we were all honest with one another, the need to be in control "controls" many of us.  Just tell me what's happening so I can be prepared for it.  I want to have a program in my hand and know what to expect. 

In case you're protesting that you're not a control freak, too, let me ask a couple of questions.  When the doctor tells you that your test results will be back in a few days and they aren't, how do you feel?  When the job interview you had said they would call back by the end of the week and they didn't, how do you feel? 

Truth is we don't like waiting and wondering.  We don't like putting important things in someone else's hands.  It's almost like if we knew what was coming next and didn't like it, we might somehow have the power to change it before it happened!  This has been a popular theme in several movies!

Jesus understood that very human quality and addressed it often.  He chose stories to make his points.  We call them parables and try to make them neat little moralisms that will prove God agrees with us. Anne Lamott says we like to think that God loves the same people we love and hates the same people we hate.

Parables are meant to be confusing and confounding.  Nadia Bolz-Weber suggests that those parable-stories were so shock full of irony and humor that they must have "provoked some to want to laugh out loud, but then quickly notice that hardly anyone else is laughing and we all know that if you have to explain a joke, it just isn't quite so funny."

She suggests that parables are "living things meant to mess with our assumptions and subvert things we never even thought to question."  I totally agree!

Jesus' stories don't begin with, "Once upon a time..." or "It was a dark and stormy night..." Most of the time they begin with, "The kingdom of God is like..."  And he is not talking about heaven, but rather God's kingdom right here on earth (as in Lord's Prayer: "on earth as it is in heaven").  He's talking about kingdom people who plant seeds and do faithful things and wait...

Did you ever think about what an enormous act of faith it is to farm?  You spend a lot of money on seed, fertilizer, equipment and fuel--a little like throwing down a wad of money on the casino table, hoping that you will win it all back and more.  But with farming, weeks and weeks of sweat equity are built in first.  And then, the waiting begins.

And then, Jesus says, although the planter "doesn't know how, all by itself" the seed produces a harvest!

Then Jesus tells another story:  It's about tiny seeds that produce big trees.  His audience likely knew many prophecies of how the children of Israel would be planted like tall, cedar trees high on a mountain--majestice and towering over everything!  The high and mighty would be brought low; the lowly would be lifted up!  Glorious promises of hope and justice. 

I can just imagine their ears perking up as he began talking about the tiny mustard seed and wondering how he was going to transform it!  But, what?  He says it will grow up to be a...shrub!  A shrub!  Not a magnificent towering tree, but a common shrub--a weed!  The only spreading it does it spread out!  A little like the Kudzu of the South, it is annoyingly fertile and hard to kill and spreads...and spreads...This is hardly the image they wanted to hear!

But should they have been so surprised?  Here is the man some say is "Messiah," but was born in a stinky stable to an unwed mother; as a know-it-all pre-teen his parents left him behind and he was "lost" for several days; then he spent big blocks of time in the wilderness doing heaven knows what; and was even rumored to have spend lots of time with drunkards and prostitues--which is likely true since his first miracle was turning water into wine at a big party!  Really now!  His whole life was about the unexpected, the embarrassing, the shocking, the unlikely. So why were they surprised?  And, why are we?

Frederich Buechner asks: "Is it possible, I wonder, to say that it is only when you hear the gospel as a wild and marvelous joke that you really hear it at all?  Heard as anything else, the gospel is the church's thing, the pastor's thing, the lecturer's thing.  Heard as a joke--high and unbidden and ringing with laughter--it can only be God's thing."

So we read the parables and wonder at the mystery and irony.  We don't take ourselves or anyone else's interpretation too seriously, lest we miss the point completely. And we are reminded that our puny acts of worship, service and faith are all we have to offer and if we do it faithfully, then God comes along beside us and "all by itself," we can sprout and grow--possibly more like weeds than beautiful flowers and trees...

Yoo Hoo! God Calling...

Several recent conversations have prompted me to consider how God calls people.  I've always been awed at how Abraham, a man living in a land where many gods were worshipped, was able to distinguish a "call" from the one true God and then obediently gather up his family to tell them they were going "where? I don't know." to do "what? I don't know." because God told him to do it.  And that's what they did!  Amazing!  God had big plans for him and that called for a big leap of faith.

Seems like there are lots of goofy ideas floating around about how God does that.  Certainly there are several strange ways found in the Bible.  But how does a person who honestly wants to do whatever God has created her to do know what that is?  Is it a mysterious thing that only a special few get to know?  Is it something you discover as you take each step of faith?  What if your choices seem to be between what is good and what is also good???  

God's will God's will for our lives can only be general, not specific, for specificity invariably involves the micromanagement of our lives, which ultimately diminishes our freedom, growth, and responsibility ... God's will is not a tightrope that must be traversed with no room for error.    Philip Gulley The Evolution of Faith: How God Is Creating a Better Christianity      Start or join the conversation for this posting on the Emergent Village Facebook Page Visit The Emergent Village Voice blog at EmergentVillage.com     Emergent Village sends daily insights and inspirations from the emergent community. We're always looking for great ideas to feature, so click here to propose your favorite quotes, lyrics, ancient adages, or even that brilliant realization that came to you this morning. We'll select and feature quotes that fall into the following categories: inspiration, theology, leadership, culture, poetry/song. Submit a contribution to MinEmergent@gmail.com                          Join Our Email List

If you miss the first call, can you put God on hold and have another chance at it?  And what if you think you heard it correctly, but you actually made a mistake?  Will God give you a do-over? 

When someone says, "God told me to....", I look around at the faces of the people hearing that and sometimes wonder if they are saying to themselves, "Really.  And what kind of voice did God have?"  "Did God sound like James Earl Jones or Morgan Freeman?"  "Or Meryl Streep?"  "When did you hear God's voice?"  "Were you on drugs?" 

I'm not trying to make fun at other's expense, but I do wonder about these things.  I can honestly say that I've never heard an actual voice, but I have had really strong impressions.  But it's what follows those impressions that finally convince me it was God trying to tell me something.  Things like all of a sudden, within a few days' time, I will see/read/hear/ something that affirms it again.  It might even be a movie I see that unexpectedly speaks to the same issue.  It may be a conversation I overhear.  But the most convincing thing is that I see/read/hear is again and again--until I finally want to say, "OK, God!  I got it!" 

So, how do you hear from God? 

Ten years ago yesterday, my dad's heart that needed a new valve just gave up, while he was peacefully sleeping. That's a kind way to go. He wanted to die with his boots on--active and living life to the fullest--and that's what he got.

To those who didn't know him, I have to say you missed out. For those who did, I would imagine that each one had a somewhat different perception of who he was--not because he lived some kind of two-faced life, but because he participated in life in so many different ways! For some he was their favorite teacher, loving a good joke, delighting to see an aha! moment in one of his pupils eyes, teaching others to enjoy and do some of the things he loved most--music, flying, debating, teaching and sparking an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. You didn't have to be around him long to observe that he was interested in nearly everything! He loved to talk to people about what they did and why they did it! He could carry on an intelligent conversation on almost any subject--having studied or read about it. Oh, did I mention he read constantly?! Rarely did he read fiction, but he could tell great stories! Instead he mostly read to learn. A lifelong learner and teacher, he had little patience for those who were satisfied with the status quo and had no desire to want to know more--about everything!

Musing with the family after his memorial service, one of my cousins said they thought, when they were young and "Uncle Dick" would fly in for a quick visit, that every one had an "Uncle Dick" who was a world-traveler who would fill their heads with his tales of his adventures! It was not until he was older that he realized how unique it was to have this "Uncle Dick." (Richard Lee King). Dad used to provide rides to soldiers from nearby Ft. Leonard Wood who only had a week-end to go see family before being shipped out. If he was anywhere close to family, he would fly into their local airport and make a quick visit before returning to pick up his soldier(s) and take them back to the base.

He loved to dream big! Fortunately, he taught in a community and for a superintendent who loved and encouraged his big dreams! Among them were building from scratch, with students, a radio station and then operating it entirely with those students, who wrote their own scripts and who broadcast a weekly show from the school! They used parts he salvaged from army surplus and had a variety of programs offered! Then he found a "link trainer" (a model of an airplane cockpit that tilted and tipped on a stand to simulate flight) and started the first high school aviation class. For real experience beyond the trainer, he used the Piper aircraft that belonged to the superintendent and his good friend, a local attorney. So the students got to have actual flight experience along with their simulation training.

He started a Drum and Bugle Corps (the Buffalo Gals) when few schools had even heard of them. He designed the uniforms (cowgirl outfits) and even made the banners that hung from the beautiful herald bugles they played. Soon the corps was winning parades and contests all over the place. They became a hit star of rodeos in-state and out! They raised money for their uniforms by selling small dolls dressed in the identical outfits the corps would be wearing. Moms made the small costumes and they were in every store window in town. Eventually they were able to purchase real leather outfits. Years later the alums bought the instruments and continue to practice and perform in parades in the southwest part of Missouri.

But I remember that he always encouraged any effort I made to do something--especially when it had to do with music! I don't remember exactly when he put a violin in my hands, but that it seemed to "take" and I soon began to love playing it! When I think back on the sacrifices my mom and dad made so that I had music lessons, got to go to music camp, drove me to Springfield every week for both Youth Symphony and Springfield Symphony rehearsals and concerts and lessons at Drury College, I am very conscious of great sacrifices they made to make sure I had those opportunities. Other than warning me to be careful not to hurt my hands (during softball season because it might affect my violin playing) dad always encouraged me to do it all! Mom worried that I would wear myself out. Dad just said, "Go, get 'em! You can do it!" I don't recall his every saying, "You can be anything you want to be!" as so many parents say to their children, because I think he understood that we all have certain limitations. But he was ever the encourager and always so proud of any accomplishments I made. I was sad that he and mom didn't live another year longer to see me graduate from seminary. God only knows how those things work, but I can only imagine that that somehow they know and they smile.

The legacy he left with students is beyond measure. I cannot remember how many times I've heard, "He was the best teacher I ever had!" Our oldest son wrote a beautiful poem about him that he read at dad's memorial service. "Teacher" it was called. After he taught in France and and Germany, they returned stateside so he could finish his PhD. They moved to Arizona where they thought they would retire after he finished teaching at NAU. But a wonderful opportunitiy opened up right here. I'm glad that the last 30 years of his life he lived near us and our boys got to know their grandfather well, as did his great-grandchildren. They still chuckle at some of his stories, as we all do. My mother adored him, even though he could surely make her mad, at times, and they frequently argued about the details of those stories! She always hoped she would go before he did, thinking that she just couldn't make it without him. And she only lived 80 days longer than he did, after celebrating 60 years of marriage. Life without him just wasn't the same. Ten years have passed more quickly than I like to think. One of my favorite photos of the two of them shows him laughing as though he was enjoying telling one of his stories and mom looking at him adoringly. That's the way I like to think of them! You've not been forgotten, Dad. Thanks for the memories! I love you!

When did it happen...?

As I read over Facebook posts, news items and listen to comments by this year's political candidates and pundits, the questions keeps creeping up at the back of my mind: "When did people become so angry, so disrespectful, so downright mean?"

Now, I'm not naive or Pollyana-ish enough to think all of that is new. I've been enjoying enough historical novels (like "Team of Rivals") to know that there were always those running for office and seeking power who have been intent on manipulating the truth in order to sway opinion. But even in the more recent days of talk radio and the Rush Limbaugh's who seem to demonize anyone who doesn't view things the way he does and make up (supposedly) cutesy little names for the people he hates, it seems to have trickled down to the masses in ways that disturb me deeply.

I'm especially grieved when it's coming from the mouths of those who should know better. People of faith, people with ordinarily good manners, people who were not brought up to accuse everyone who didn't agree with them of being "demonic." I recall people in my old hometown who were on opposite sides of the fence about some pretty important issues who could rant and rave, argue passionately--and then to have a drink together! They may not have agreed about some things, but they still had respect and deep affection for one another. And what's more, they would have defended that friend if someone else took a potshot at them!

Will this trend ever turn around? Will there come a day when we realize that we are all in this together and, while we may have different viewpoints as to what the best ways of accomplishing things are, we still want what's best for our country--and our world. Most of us want peace. We want to see hungry people have enough food to eat. We want to see that every person has access to healthcare--doctors, medicines, hospitals, etc. We want to see our cities, large and small, thrive and our schools be safe places for children where they can and do learn and become educated in order to be better people and make a better world for their children. We do, don't we?

In every book of faith that I have read or seen portions of, there is an overarching theme of a desire that all people live a quality of life that is just, allows space for creative thinking, promotes good will toward all and promotes a morality that recognizes some boundaries that make life better for all if we live within them. Yet more wars, even today, are fought in the name of "religion" than any other reason. The Holocaust may have ended many years ago, but genocide still exists in far too many places around our globe. How can this be?

I have friends who send me hate messages that are supposed to make me hate this group or that group who believe or live differently than I do, or who are from a different race than I, or who are just "other." These messages encourage me to be fearful and angry. They encourage me to hate and to pass that hatrid along to others so they will hate, too! Any words I offer back to disagree, question or refuse to pass along seem to do no good. Whether it's undocumented aliens, Muslims, poor people (who they assume are all just lazy and working the system), people of another color, someone from a certain political party--the list goes on and on--I'm supposed to imagine the very worst about them, hate them, try to stay away from them and get others to do the same.

I cannot find those instructions in my book of faith: the Bible. With few exceptions, I see, again and again the instructions to love--even my enemies. After loving God more than anything or anyone else, I am supposed to love others as I love myself. as i love myself...maybe that's part of the problem. Maybe much of the hatred comes from not being able to love ourselves. Some psychologists suggest that those things we hate the most about ourselves are the very things that bother us the most about other people. If I hate people who lie, perhaps it means that deep down inside I recognize that I have a tendency to lie--to be deceptive--even to myself. So I cannot tolerate it in others. I think I will ponder that for awhile...until next post.