Worship

Worship the Lord in the splendor of holiness;

tremble before Him, all the earth!

Say among the nations,  “The Lord reigns!

Yes, the world is established; it shall never be moved;

He will judge the peoples with equity. Psalm 96:9-10

“Be still, then, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth.”  Psalm 46:11

Worship is manifest in many ways beyond yet including “standing as you as able and joining us” in hymn-singing at Southside, from serving cups of cold water or hot soup to picking up bits of litter along the road or striding up a decomposed granite path through the Catalinas.

And kneeling before our God and Maker in stillness.

You are God.

You will be exalted.

You will judge with equity.

Restoration.

Let it be on earth as it is in heaven.

Let the heavens be glad, and let the earth rejoice.

You sweep us away like a dream.

The Refrain

Be still, then, and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations.

I will be exalted in the earth.

For a thousand years in Your sight are like yesterday when it is past and like a watch in the night. Psalm 90:5

There is no need to set an alarm. I wake up in the stillness like clockwork. I have been doing this early morning gig ever since I starting trying to beat little three-year-old Anita to the punch. Finally I just started sending her off with Cindy to milk goats so I could have a few moments. To sort through which day it is and what the plans might be. And my list of beloved souls. One by one to lay each plan, each hope, each child of God before the feet of the LORD God Almighty.

And each day pounds itself out five minutes at a time. I can do anything for another five minutes, I whisper to myself. 

In the evening it is dried up and withered.

Be still, then, and know that I am God.

Actually Nicol’s first word was chivo as well. And I would send my not-quite-toddling child off with the neighborhood kids to play with the baby goats while Mencho and I did the neighborhood prayer walk from the stillness of our living room table.

And each day pounds itself out five minutes at a time. I can do anything for another five minutes, I whisper to myself. 

In the evening it is dried up and withered.

Be still, then, and know that I am God.

Little Andreita was glued to the loving hip of Hernando as he spread his kindness throughout the old ranch house. I still have all of those tattered prayer journals, somewhere.

Where oh where have the years gone? 

And each day pounds itself out five minutes at a time. I can do anything for another five minutes, I whisper to myself. 

In the evening it is dried up and withered.

Be still, then, and know that I am God.

Jenny found another amazing gift for me again at the downtown Artisans’ Street Fair.

In the lower right-hand corner kneels a woman in prayer, still and at peace.

And before her lies the seemingly arduous pilgrimage, up, up to high places. Lots of steep staircases. A few green pastures of gentle rest. But even more dark tunnels with no light at the end of them.

Yet at every bend an angel stands. Ministering Spirits. On watch. Alert. Strong and able to comfort and protect this little wandering sheep.

And this morning I knelt into today’s true perspective, and how indeed the days fade away into nothingness, the smashing crashing days whose ripples settle into a quiet blur, a dream that can’t quite be caught.

Be still, then, and know that I am God.

I will be exalted among the nations.

I will be exalted in the earth.

And overhead the birds welcomed the sun rising up behind the Rincons

“Be still, then, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth. Psalm 46:11

“Before you speak of peace, you must first have it in your heart.” —St. Francis of Assisi

Richard Rohr spoke of imagining myself sitting on the shore of a river with boats floating past, boats piled high with thoughts and feelings. And while acknowledging them with a nod, yes, this is indeed one of my thoughts, I allow them to continue to float on down the river without jumping on the boat. Just let it float away. This is a practice in un-possessing, detaching, letting go. With every idea, with every image that comes into your head, say, “No, I’m not that; I don’t need that; that’s not me.”

As I walked down to the Benedictine Monastery this morning to spend some time remembering my crucified Savior, the one who chose to become what you fear: nakedness, exposure, vulnerability, and failure. . . . He became the crucified so we would stop crucifying, another image came into my heart, that of a rolling sea.

Waves are indeed real. And they have force and strength, but if I don’t fight them, if I duck down under them, they dissipate into a quiet soothing surf. And a peace surged through me. A profound peace, perhaps that same profound humility that I have been asking for.

It’s not about me.

It’s the we, the beloved sheep stumbling through life.

The ones He came to seek.

Jesus became the sinned-against one to reveal the hidden nature of scapegoating. Jesus says from the cross: “Father, forgive them, for they don’t know what they’re doing.”

I sure don't know what I am doing.

But at the end of it all, He will be exalted.

The steadfast love of the LORD never ceases. His mercies never come to an end.

They are new every morning. New every morning.

Great is His faithfulness. 
Be peace.

Even if it isn't safe, I should take my eyes off the road.

Search for the LORD and His strength; continually seek His face. Psalm 105:5

Be still, then, and know that I am God. I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth. Psalm 46:11

Rob Bell points out that in Genesis 12, a man named Abram is called (elected, predestined, chosen) to be a blessing. That was the purpose.  God was going to bless him, and through him, he is going to bless the world. And this calling is universal. It is for everybody. All kinds of people all over the place are going to be blessed by God through Abraham. God has no boundaries. God blesses everybody. People who don’t believe in God. People who are opposed to God. People who do evil violent things. God’s intentions are to bless everybody. It rains on the just and the unjust alike.

And when Jesus comes He says, “I am among you as one who serves.” The best and greatest and most important are the ones who humble themselves, set their needs and desires aside, and selflessly serve others.

The Church doesn’t exist for itself; it exists to serve the world. It is all about the people that God wants to bless through the Church.

And we the Church are learning how to suffer well. Not to avoid suffering, but to feel the full force of it. Ultimately our gift to the world around us is hope. Not blind hope that pretends everything is fine and refuses to acknowledge how things are. The kind of hope that comers from staring pain and suffering right in the eyes and refusing to believe that this is all there is. It is what we all need – hope that comes not from going around the suffering but from going through it.

Lewis continues this thought. Now the very Pagans knew that any beggar at your door might be a god in disguise, and the parable of the sheep and the goats is Our Lord’s comment. What you do, or don’t do, to the beggar, you do, or don’t do, to Him.

Simple faith leaps to this with astonishing ease. I once talked to a continental pastor who had seen Hitler, and had, by all human standards, good cause to hate him. “What did he look like?” I asked. “Like all men,” he replied. “That is, like Christ.”

I got my hair cut yesterday. And the stylist asked me about my glass cross from the St. Francis monastery on one of the islands outside of Venice, and of course that led into the rest of my summer. Because it is on my mind, mulling over the God revealed I met there. I often hear about the post-Godness of the continent, but I saw Him on every corner, alive and with outstretched arms calling His children to come home. But I digress. She asked if I stayed in touch with anyone, and I said yes, in fact I just heard from this guy the day before. And, well, let me tell you his story…

But my thoughts went to earlier in the morning, when I was driving Shaun and Chuyi home from their first weary battle with the SAT exam, and we passed a woman dragging a very heavy suitcase along a rocky path. And she looked tired. And I heard that Voice, the same Voice that told me to kneel down on the pavement and pray for those guys’ legs to get well, tell me to stop and help her. And I drove on, with the stack of excuses of a crowded car, of tired children, of absolute disobedience.

Blasphemer. Did I just drive past Jesus on the road?

And really, really perhaps that one act of kindness would not have only been a blessing to that old lady, Christ in an old flowered dress, but perhaps it might have colored in the lines Shaun was drawing in his mind trying to answer that essay question on Power, and what we should do with it.

I will never know.

Lord, Your face will I seek. 

Prayer: LORD God, Creator and Sustaining Wisdom of all that is, both in heaven and on earth, take from me those thoughts, actions and object that are hurtful. Give me instead those things that are profitable for me and all who seek rightly to praise You. I ask this grace in the company of all believers and through the name of Jesus Christ our Lord, who is, with You and the Holy Spirit, one God forever an ever. Amen.

Mercy

But you, O LORD my God, Oh, deal with me according to your Name for your tender mercy’s sake, deliver me. For I am poor and needy, and my heart is wounded within me.  Psalm 46:11

Sometimes, perhaps all of the time, there are deep wounds hidden within.  Beyond just being sore or aching spots that whimper when pressed or when weariness overwhelms, there are also raw, open wounds, bleeding wounds, that affect everything we do or feel.  We see the world from this wounded state. 

What we see and hear when we interact with others, both close intimate friends and the-man-on-the-street.  We are too distracted by ourselves.  We cannot love.  These wounds shade what we see when we look in the mirror.  Who we are and what is our value.  We cannot accept His love.  And most of all, these undressed wounds affect how we see our LORD.  Is He really trustworthy?  Does He really have our best interest at heart?  Is He able?  And most of all, we question His love.  What is love? 

The promises and declarations of His compassion and mercy and of His great kindness fall on deaf ears.  We are too preoccupied with our pain. 

Thus before we bring our praise offerings and our petitions to Him, we must leave our gift in front of the alter, and allow Him to bring reconciliation.  To pour His oil of healing.  To release the putrid fears and rottenness. When Jesus saw him lying there, knowing that he had already been a long time in that condition, He said to him, "Do you wish to get well?"

Yes, dear LORD.  I release this brokenness.  This wall behind which I have grown accustomed.  The patterns and routines which keep me from all that You have for me, the familiar pain which reminds me that I am alive.

I confess this… is it pride?  This faux-courage to do it on my own.  I repent from hidden judgments and lies I have told myself about the past and the lack of mercy that has kept me from receiving Your mercy. I will wait. I will wrestle until you hear my cry.

I waited patiently upon the LORD; he stooped to me and heard my cry. He lifted me out of the desolate pit, out of the mire and the clay; He set my feet upon a high cliff and made my footing sure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God; many shall see, and stand in awe. And put their trust in the LORD.

Later Jesus found him at the temple and said to him, “See, you are well again. Stop sinning or something worse may happen to you.”

Grumble, Grumble

“Be still, then, and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations; I will be exalted in the earth.”  Psalm 46:11

Sometimes.  Often.  I wake up like a grumpy, old dog.  I stalk unhappily to the kitchen where I drink my two glasses of water.  Grumble, grumble.  I am stiff and achy.  Grumble.  It’s going to be a long day.  Things are not working out exactly how I had hoped.  Grumble, grumble.  Maybe I will just go…

Where can I turn?  What are my options?  There was a ton of grumbling in John six, oddly enough, after so many miracles, after the feeding of the five thousand, and after Jesus walked on the water.  What did the people do?  They grumbled.  This following Jesus stuff was not exactly what they had hoped for.  From this time many of his disciples turned back and no longer followed him.

 You do not want to leave, too, do you?

Simon Peter answered him, “Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and to know that you are the Holy One of God.”

Lord, you have been our refuge from one generation to another. Before the mountains were brought forth, or the land and the earth were born, from age to age you are God. You turn us back to the dust and say, “Go back, O child of earth.” For a thousand years in your sight are like yesterday when it is past and like a watch in the night. You sweep us away like a dream; we fade away suddenly like the grass. In the morning it is green and flourishes; in the evening it is dried up and withered. For we consume away in your displeasure; we are afraid because of your wrathful indignation. Our iniquities you have set before you, and our secret sins in the light of your countenance. So teach us to number our days that we may apply our hearts to wisdom.  Psalm 90

Wisdom is perspective. Stepping back and seeing the big picture of history and movement and change.  And constants in the midst of upheaval.  Be still and know that He is God.  He will be exalted.