The fragrance of God

Then Herod summoned the wise men secretly and ascertained from them what time the star had appeared. And he sent them to Bethlehem, saying, “Go and search diligently for the child, and when you have found him, bring me word, that I too may come and worship him.” Matthew 2:7-8

Herod is sort of mind-boggling; I mean how garbled his thinking was. Somehow he believed the prophets enough to seek out pinpoint details written 700 years previous, and seven hundred years is a long time, like acting on a line from Canterbury Tales. And yet still plotted how he, one little old puny person, could stand against the tide of history and change its course. 

And yet how often do my actions not line up with some very firmly held beliefs? I am the first to admit that there are a lot things that I don’t entirely get, that I am still trying to stumble into practice and understanding, and most likely will never become clear until That Day.  For instance, I know that God heals miraculously and instantly, and yet, sometimes He doesn’t.  And the whole concept of time and how it fits together and prayer and grace and predestination. And then of course there is the pile of stuff that I want to do in my head, like floss my teeth, but my flesh is weak. 

In both my head and heart I believe in God’s unconditional love for each and every person. But do I plot out my day on that belief, or do I think I can stand against the tide of His love which is warp and weave of His very character?  So very much is going to be swept away into nothingness. Of so very many things do I worry and fret, and yet few are needed, indeed only one. Chose the better part.

I read a testimony today in Christianity Today by an Iranian man’s search for peace out of rage and hatred, beginning with a vision of thousands of people praying for their enemies rather than fighting. From that moment the forgiveness started to heal him, but his search continued, leading him to India and to Mecca and to selling all he had and giving it all away in order to follow any sign God gave him.  Somehow he ended up in the United States on a tourist visa and someone took him to a church for English lessons, and when he entered he thought, this smells of God.  A few weeks later he entered the service, looking for his teacher, and he saw the pastor and the entire congregation on their knees praying for the one word he understood, Iran.  A thousand people gathered there with their heads bowed, on their knees, praying for their enemies, showing love instead of hate. Since I was a young man, this had been my vision. 

Standing in the back of that church, immediately I started crying, laughing and and dancing.  I didn’t care if someone I knew saw me.  I was so happy.  This was peace.  I finally understood this was a place where I could know God, where I could know peace.

And today, as we collectively gather under sweeping tower of Northminster Presbyterian and sort through what remains of a life well lived, and what was blown away like the weeds of yesterday, I am glad that the scattering of the ashes on Mt. Lemmon will be framed with this Scripture: 

Love never fails. But whether there are prophecies, they will fail; whether there are tongues, they will cease; whether there is knowledge, it will vanish away.  For we know in part and we prophesy in part. But when that which is perfect has come, then that which is in part will be done away.

When I was a child, I spoke as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child; but when I became a man, I put away childish things. For now we see in a mirror, dimly, but then face to face. Now I know in part, but then I shall know just as I also am known.

And now abide faith, hope, love, these three; but the greatest of these is love.

And my heart joins the millions of children of God who for this season of Ramadan are offering up this prayer: Dear LORD God of heaven and earth, please reveal Yourself.  And may we have eyes to see and ears to hear.  And the will to obey.