Martha

Yeah a guy is going to write about Martha, and in lieu of paragraphs I will bold the first word of where I want a paragraph to start! Yesterday was Mother's Day and after all was finished at my house, I wanted a drink. Instead I took a nap. Saturday my wife, Gail and I, along with two other couples threw a big party for a friend's 60th birthday. We didn't get home until a little after midnight Saturday. Gail had headed up all the planning for the Saturday event so we had not planned together Mother's Day. I took on all the planning for the meal and cooked. I awoke Sunday still tired from the previous day but pushed forward with the shopping for and preparation of the food. The afternoon was nice so we ate outside and I sat and realized at the end of the table across from me was the youngest at 14 months sitting next to the oldest, my mother at 88. We had four generations around our table of 13 yesterday on both sides of our families. In retrospect it was a good scene, somthing to remember as none of us know if this will ever happen again. As I reflect a bit more I am reminded of my own inner turmoil at certain points of preparation. My daughter brought two beautiful homemade fresh strawberry pies and my niece brought a delicious salad but the rest of the meal was my gig. There was a point when I felt behind and when placing a meal on the table you always have the rush of getting all the food done at the same time. Our kitchen looks large but there really is only one small corner where the food is cooked and plated up. I felt trapped in that corner as I tried to get everything ready and on the table. I became frazzled. Looking back on the tension I felt I am reminded of Martha. She needed help from her sister Mary and where was she? Sitting at Jesus' feet. I don't know if Martha understood Jesus' response to her when she pointedly asked for her sister's help but this morning as I was at the picnic table I was a bit amused at my own Martha-ness. The important image was the scene of four generations around the table, not the near chaos of my heart in trying to get everything ready. It is a choice for me, what will I choose to dwell on. After all the food is put away, the dishes are cleaned and the kitchen put back in order, do I dwell on my own pettiness or the faces around the table? I am not sure what Martha chose but for me, I will dwell on the faces and learn from the Counselor how to better set myself aside.

WORD

(I want to start by apologizing for the total lack of paragraphs.) I'm finding John 17:14-19 interesting in that the "word" given by Jesus may mean something other than what we easily think of. I just am not so sure we are correct in jumping to the conclusion Jesus meant "Scripture" as we traditionally think. Perhaps in our rush to think "Scripture" as we know it we miss what other possibilities there are as to His meaning. Scripture, as we know it, did not exist. What might He have meant then? John's opening words in writing his gospel offers a strong clue, a different perspective behind the meaning of Jesus' use of "word". The Word became flesh. John 1:1-14 is quite emphatic about this, it really is a theme that runs through and ties the gospel together. The context, the point in time captured by John in his retelling of Jesus' prayer seems important. Who had received the strongest rebuke from Jesus during His years of ministry? It was not the obvious sinners but the religious intelligencia who had turned knowing God into a long list of rules and regulations that were endlessly debated. It became a heavy yoke never intended by Father and a way to acquire and keep power and status in a theistic society. Jesus incarnation and ministry was not about showing a better way to do what already was being done. It was the real way to live in communion with Triune God. The curtain would be torn. Word became flesh with ALL the implications of relationship. If one reads this last recorded prayer of Jesus with eyes, hears and heart opened by the Counselor, it is stunning what He is saying. He gave us Father's word - himself. We are in Him, He is in us. the love Father has for the Son, a love that was and is before the creation of the world is in us, in me. John 17:22 says we have been given Jesus' glory, glory given because Abba loved Jesus before the world was created; it transcends time and is ours to live in. Having written this, I can only conclude the word He spoke of was Himself. He revealed the Father and we are sanctified not by Scripture but by Jesus, the Word that became flesh. This is important. Scripture as we know it, is not an end in itself but is the means to the end, Jesus. So when we remember, "Thy word have I hid in my heart that I might not sin," the fulfillment is Jesus in us, us in Jesus. The key to dealing with sin is what Jesus did, and again, we are in Jesus. We are complete, whole and blameless. Although sin still is part of our mortality, it is not the over-riding factor we we make it to be. Jesus is. Living in intimacy with Him is our hope, our glory. Life is no longer about how to manage sin better but rather how to love Jesus more and letting Abba's love reign within. It is out of that reality that we stand complete in Christ when we are tempted, when we do fail. He does not abandon, He does not leave us as orphans and I don't believe He turns away. He is with us, even when we stumble, fall or wander off as a lost sheep. We can know the word (Jesus) if we listen for His voice. He is in us. He is in us. He is in us.

Paragraphs

or lack thereof...... augh! Blogspot changed some things and evidently I can't maintain any paragraphs I've entered. I've tried line breaks, line breaks and indents and indents alone. It's just irritating. If any readers are familiar with how to change this, please let me know.

Corinth #6

I'm not a good Baptist anymore. I smoke my pipe and the occasional cigar, I enjoy good single malt whiskey in the company of a few select men who can infrequently spout a few interesting words and I read writers not on "approved" lists, not that any lists exist but eyebrows would rise by some if it was known about some of my recent readings. I don't know what this makes me but when I read the first four verses of I Corinthians 3 Brothers, I could not address you as spiritual but as worldly - mere infants in Christ. I gave you milk, not solid food, for you were not ready for it. Indeed, you are still not ready. You are still worldly. For since there is jealousy and quarreling among you, are you not worldly? Are you not acting like mere men? For one says "I follow Paul," and another, "I follow Apollos"," are you not mere men? I see the state of too many churches. Too often we become inoculated by the religion of church attendance and sporadic participation but aren't interested in seeing the jealousy and quarrelsomeness often running rampant. Too often church is about looking good to others controlling our image and figuring out how to control others in the bargain. We often only want to hang around those who read the same things we read and think, the same theologically passing tacit judgement on those outside of our personal orthodoxy. The phrase Paul uses just prior to the above quote, But we have the mind of Christ aught to shake us up and move us away from the simple boxes we seek to create for God. Unfortunately I don't think we easily give up our boxes. Over and over and over again Jesus challenged the religious establishment with His "breaking" of Sabbath. He inflamed the religious to the point they plotted and brought about His death. It was the only answer they had for Him, His words, His actions, His life. Now we have His mind. Incredible. I know this reads harsh. There is no harshness in my heart, only sadness. Are we really hungry for meat and not milk? I wonder what Paul would think if he could see the plethora of denominational divisions religious people have created. I think he was hinting at this with his phrase, "'One says I am of Paul,' another says 'I am of Apollos'". In our modern society fueled by the huge amount of information available to us on the internet we can find all manner of divisions. There are whole sites dedicated to pointing out theological error in others. I've heard from some who peruse those pages using what is written to condemn some of our greatest thinkers without actually taking the time to read the offending writers. It is very sad to me. I am learning to take what Jesus said about the Holy Spirit to heart. He will lead me to all truth, He will reveal the unsearchable riches of Christ. Yes, I might read some writers I don't 100% agree with, but isn't that what "meat" is about, the challenging of some of my own pre-conceived ideas about who Jesus is and the mind I now have?

Question

I don't write here to do anything but share a bit of my journey with Abba. I am not overly concerned about who comes and reads here. I am curious as I have some who have read scattered about the globe in places that surprise me. Weeks often go by when I don't write but I am thinking often of what I might put here and so weeks go by and I don't come here to check out my stats. Blogger is a bit frustrating in how it gives me the stats of where people are from in that only the top 10 countries are shown for any given time frame. This morning I opened up this blog and checked my stats and was a bit surprised to see 23 views last night at 10pm my time (I am west coast US time) and it appears they all were from Germany.

Well, no response to my question. I will have to live with the mystery of this. I am curious about some who come here though.

Corinth #5

I am feeling dusty today. I'm not speaking about the need to wash off dust but more along the lines of origins; the dust to dust phrase that sums up our mortality. Yesterday I completed 38 radiation treatments for prostate cancer. I won't know the outcome for some time but something about moving close to the age of 60 and facing this battle has drawn me to consider my "dustiness". This is about two things - my tendency towards the "dust" of my humanity and a wander towards what is yet to come.

As dust I tend too often to fall back to dusty ways. I'm in the midst of four weeks off work to recover from the side effects of the radiation treatment. I've never been good with excess time on my hands. I fall easily into laziness. While I know rest is needed and is at the top of my agenda for these days, I've hoped to use this also as a sabbath with the leisure of time to savor the richness of Abba, finding a gentle rhythm to my days. This has been a bit difficult and my weariness has turned into a silent struggle against the whisper accusing me of slothfulness. Right now this has reduced down to the notion of dust - I am dust.

I don't mean this in a dismissive, deprecating way. I am simply a mortal man who will return to dust one day.

Entering into these thoughts are Paul's words to the Corinthians in Corinthians I chapter two. I hear Paul contending with his own dustiness. It seems he struggles with the right words in a way that won't stand in the way of his readers to understand the wisdom of God, hoping his words don't keep them from a better understanding of Jesus. I read the chapter and see this struggle, a struggle I also feel at times. He finally ends the chapter with a glorious phrase, "but we have the mind of Christ".

This phrase leaves me nearly breathless, at least in a spiritual sense. Me, in my dustiness of mortality and my tendency to fall back to selfish dusty ways have been given the mind of Christ. Do I dare believe this? Do I dare live out the rest of my dusty days with this truth? It would seem, as I read and ponder what Paul wrote, the very mind of Christ makes me more than dust. Oh to live that now, that is the call on our lives.

Refuge

Just a few more thoughts out of John 10.

It’s a pen - a sheephold. Rocks stacked define the borders of the enclosure. It took a great deal of effort to build the pen; first locating, digging out of the clinging earth boulders of varying sizes then hauling to the place the pen would be built. The gagged rocks and boulders then stacked laboriously on upon another of a sufficient height to keep within the sheep belonging to the Good Shepherd.

On the east side, facing the morning sun, an opening is allowed, a void in the rocky walls where a gate is built permitting ingress and egress. The gate is constructed of rough hewn timbers, precious wood in this arid land. There is an element of beauty to the pen with it’s rocky walls showing the jagged grey and brown hues and timbers revealing brown wooden striations. The engineering of the safekeep itself speaks of a beauty and love the Shepherd had in mind while constructing the pen. It is a place of refuge for those of us who know His voice.

The pen itself offers minimal safety. Predators could leap upon the enclosure if not for the Shepherd’s presence guarding the hold. We sheep crowded in the pen would be easy picking for the hungry predators. But the Good Shepherd stands guard, never sleeping, allowing us the peace of restful sleep.

At daybreak the Shepherd speaks rousing us to activity. He and He alone opens the gate and bids us follow Him. His voice echoing deep in our hearts leads us to pasture and water, His watchful eyes always on alert for us. We may wander off as we move here and there, but if we are careful to listenwe will hear His voice guiding us where to go.

It is in this listening where I find life, abundant life listening to the Good Shepherd’s voice.