As-salam alaikum.

For the inward mind and heart of a man are deep.

But God shoots His arrow at them;
    they are wounded suddenly. Psalm 64:7

Judge not, that you be not judged.  For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. Why do you see the speck that is in your brother's eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother's eye. Matthew 7:1-5

No one is to be called an enemy, all are your benefactors, and no one does you harm. You have no enemy except yourselves. –Francis of Assisi

Ah, Facebook. The tie that binds.

I met Omar Fekeiki, a journalist from Baghdad, Iraq, under the big eucalyptus tree in the backyard one evening maybe twelve years ago when he came over to meet Ali. One evening, and still our lives are linked, and he shares his perspective occasionally, and mine grows with understanding.

Such is Facebook.

And today he shared a post from Abdalla Al Omari, a Syrian refugee who began an art series out of a justifiable frustrated anger, and yet, over time, it turned his heart tender, as each of our hearts should be tender to the vulnerability and brokenness that each human carries deep within.

And today Dre posted someone’s story on Facebook too… that of a former neo-Confederate, who traced the relatively reasonable path of pivotal events and scattered bits of information and just-now-articulated emotions that led him to hold an abhorrent perspective. Just like me, who also has over a lifetime pieced together equally haphazardly stitched together self-evident yet blurred perspectives from which I view the world. And her peoples.

And today I took another breezy walk along the battle trench and read a memorial which read something about of the partisan brigade’s victory over the confused and broken Nazi-Barbarism. Ten meters further along the now-jogging path was another memorial, this one in honor of this sacrifice which remains the last crime of Italian blind hatred of Italian; remember that union generates strength, freedom and the weapons of justice, love and the seeds of life.

 And really it doesn’t matter whose side was whose. There stamped in the marble are the photos and names of beloved young men: sons, husbands and fathers. None of us really know what we are doing.

 And when the LORD God Almighty chose to enter this brokenness in molecular form, He extended wide His merciful arms and forgave the spitters and cursers for they knew not what they did. What we do. What I do.

Do not judge, and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.

It is He who looses the arrows into the depths to pierce the darkness. It is He who casts light. It was by His wounds that we are healed of ours. And it is He who looked up in the sycamore fig tree and called out: Zacchaeus!" he said. "Quick, come down! I must be a guest in your home today.

A guest takes off his shoes and enters the doorway of the home, humbly and gratefully receiving what is served while listening to the stories told around the table. Quick to hear, slow to speak.

We have been called to heal wounds, to unite what has fallen apart, and to bring home those who have lost their way. –Francis of Assisi

May I today follow in my beloved Savior’s footsteps and in those who have faithfully followed afterwards with their eyes fixed upon Him, undistracted by the specks of dust cast up by the enemy.

In Spain the caramelized crust on the bottom of the paella pan is called socarrat

Whoever brings blessing will be enriched,
    and one who waters will himself be watered. Proverbs 11:25

It was years ago. I don’t even remember if Alan asked me or told me about this guy on his soccer team whose wife kicked him out of the house and he really had no where to live. And he was Iranian.  And Hussein has been part of our lives ever since. Of course that is not the name he goes by here in the United States, especially during all those wars, but that is his name. And he has been to the weddings and the Christmas Eve services and he knows that he can drop by anytime, especially at dinnertime. And yeah, he pretty much livens up conversations with his statements of facts. That was a pretty memorable dinner with him, a Baghdad Iraqi, a Kurd and an New York Jewish journalist discussing The Middle East Solution.

And life has not always been easy for an engineer who studied at the University of Arizona, but is now, well, Iranian. So bunches of Iranians end up selling used cars. And playing lots of soccer. And over the years Alan has been the white guy at Iranian soccer tournaments at UCLA or Las Vegas or San Diego. And sometimes Hussein’s little boy would come over and ask lots and lots of questions and bang on the drums that used to be in the living room. But now he has a band of his own in Texas far away.

And the last time Hussein went back to visit his family in Tehran, he returned with a glowingly lovely wife. And last night we all went over to their house for dinner: Mary Anne and mom and Chuyi and Alan and I.  And we were enriched.

At first we gathered around the low table laden with nuts and dried fruits and chocolates and a mountain of fruit artistically arranged because everything in this unassuming home on the eastside is artistically arranged because that is how Eliheh sees the world.  And we probably biffed it–I think we started at the dessert table by mistake but our hosts were so polite and so happy. Like that viral video we have all seen too many times. Exactly.

And we gathered around the high table with a huge platter of rice swirled with saffron and sprinkled with beautiful red fruits that you can only buy the Middle Eastern store on Speedway. And splayed roasted chickens, and small stuffed eggplants and tomatoes and cucumber and yogurt salad and of course, tahdig, the crisp rice taken from the bottom of the pot in which the rice is cooked. The name comes from a Persian word meaning "bottom of the pot,” of course. “Da me el concón,” is what we used to say in La Republica Dominicana, and “pegao” in Colombia.

And back to the low table of nuts and fruits and a box of chocolates and homemade Baklava and glasses of tea. And stories and photos and family heirlooms. And Hussein has a round tummy for the first time in his life and he smiles and smiles.

And whoever brings blessing will be enriched, and one who waters will himself be watered.

We were sure watered last night, over and over again. And old Hussein even had these fancy dancy tongs to place ice cubes into our glasses.

Come down from heaven, the way they do, / Disguised as strangers from abroad or whatever

Abraham was sitting at the entrance of his tent during the hottest part of the day. He looked up and saw three men standing near him. When Abraham saw them, he ran from his tent to meet them. He bowed facedown on the ground before them and said, “Sir, if you think well of me, please stay awhile with me, your servant. I will bring some water so all of you can wash your feet. You may rest under the tree, and I will get some bread for you so you can regain your strength. Then you may continue your journey.” Genesis 18:1-5

Thinking of hospitality as a major theme in a literary work may seem odd to modern readers. In Homer's world, however, hospitality is essential. Fagles and Knox refer to hospitality as a dominant part of "the only code of moral conduct that obtains in the insecure world of The Odyssey." Cliff Notes

It may see a bit odd for an English teacher to be quoting Cliff Notes early Saturday morning, but remember I have approximately 176 Odyssey essays (thesis, support, detail, support, detail, conclusion) to grade this weekend. And 46 character sketches. And 46 final exams. And 308 game board evaluations.  And 17 biome community service project proposals. And I know I assigned all of this work but I have pretty good rubrics and actually I enjoy each and every single paper because it is a conversation of sorts with a student that I have grown to know and love over the semester, and I am so very, happy happy sometimes with the depth and articulation of the thinking. It is just the endlessness of the stacks that I am hauling around that weighs on my mind. And major themes.

Telemachus saw Athene (disguised as a visitor, Mentes, chief of the Taphians) long before any one else did. He caught sight of her and went straight to the gate, for he was vexed that a stranger should be kept waiting for admittance. He took her right hand in his own and said, "Welcome, to our house, and when you have partaken of food you shall tell us what you have come for." He led the way as he spoke, and Athene followed him. He conducted her to a richly decorated seat under which he threw a cloth of damask. There was a footstool also for her feet, and he set another seat near her for himself, away from the suitors, that she might not be annoyed while eating by their noise and insolence. (1.118-134)

And Abraham did a great job of hospitality. He had Sarah prepare loaves of bread from twenty quarts of fine flour and killed his finest calf and served it up cooked in curds and milk.  And this hospitality was a great example for the LORD conversing with Himself, “I have chosen him so he would command his children and his descendants to live the way the Lord wants them to, to live right and be fair.” Hospitality is right and fair. We are all sojourners on this earth, this insecure world.

And I may grumble about a lot of things, but inviting others into my home is not one of them. Nor doing dishes. Somehow it fills me with happiness. And maybe even the closely correlated and quite necessary trip to Fry’s, which has the added bonus of announcing to me on the bottom of the receipt that I saved over 40%, which is a quiet little game I play, two or three times a week. And I am about to head on over, before swim practice this morning.

Man, what a privilege it has been to share our table with so many people, Even just this week, the candlelit conversations bring a sense of wonder at what a delight it all is.

And how I long for this to be true: All the believers were one in heart and mind. No one claimed that any of their possessions was their own, but they shared everything they had. What a joy it will be to hear the words of The King, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

And I wonder how many angels have walked through the bright blue front door.

The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas

May the God of endurance and encouragement grant you to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together you may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Therefore welcome one another as Christ has welcomed you, for the glory of God. Romans 15:5-7

So it was a lovely Sunday because I got all of my schoolwork done on Saturday and I went to the Vineyard Saturday night because Alan had a morning soccer game and thus Sunday stared at me totally and delightfully wide open and empty. 

And I finished Romans and read the paper and ate my oatmeal and forgot to meet with Nati and I was already to walk the dogs around the park when Nicole arrived from a sleepover on Mt. Lemmon so I ended up going to a nearby church that I have been driving past for twenty years and was always just a little bit curious what went on inside those doors. 

And what happened is that we sang “We Glorify You LORD” over and over.   

And the pastor was one of those people that believe that we are all going to stand in big choirs in heaven singing praises for eternity to Him Who Sits on the Throne, and I don’t particularly agree with him, but I sure got a good glimpse of how that could be sweet.  

And Nicole’s friend from Minnesota led us in prayers for healing. And I prayed for the worship leader who was a dad of some of my students so long ago and had gone to Mexicali with me, and my hand on his knee burned and he was healed and could cross his legs pain free for the first time in years and years. But nothing on the entire checklist that Cindy the nurse had made the day before on our hike to Sabino Canyon for me to go see a doctor about and she emailed me a good doctor that very afternoon seems to have changed for the better.  And we went out for date and goat cheese pizza afterwards and hung around the living room and told stories of the adventures of life with God especially the bit about welcoming one another as Christ as welcomed you and that was good.

And we prayed for Juan Gabriel. 

And then over to Heather and Dustin and Everette’s for yummy fish and beet salad and Breyer’s vanilla ice cream last night. So very delicious especially when we dwelt on the idea that being thankful has rippling repercussions. But the conversation turned a little discouraging as we talked about the living in harmony with one another part because that is really hard because we are all a little off-key. And really I would just love to tell some people what I think and take back my toys and march away. Far away.

And He is a God of endurance. Which reminds me of Tom Copp’s remaining under that entered just about every sermon he taught for so many years. Endurance or steadfastness or patience are all translations of hupomeno, from two words: meno means to remain and hupo means under. The testing of your faith produces the ability to remain under. And in Gordon MacDonald’s book When Life is Hard he says The thing we most want to do when life is hard is to jump ship, but staying put is the very thing God wants to teach us. This is key: If God can get you to the the ability to remain under the pressure, He can give you every other good thing He wants for you. All of the character qualities God wants to pour into your life are coming through the funnel called “remaining under.” He wants you to stick with it, hang in there, and in NO circumstances give up.

And ol’ Peter says, Humble yourself, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He may exalt you. Remain under the pressure by God’s grace and in His strength and when you meet the test by perseverance, a lot of great things are in your future.

And James says, Let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be complete, lacking in nothing.

And I was editing a devotional by Matteo yesterday, since I had so much delightful free time, and Matteo says, And here it is the point: Your Kingdom come: HIS WILL. His will is not the easy happy ending Walt Disney movie, but a man who dies, bleeding and with nails. His will is, from our perspective a sacrifice, from God’s perspective a gift. 

Thus God seems to fulfill step-by-step His to do list: I was in prison and he promised me a land of freedom, He nourished me with food and gave me drink, new clothes for the new life and then He washed my feet.

Pila, Italy, August 1, 2013, 22 p.m. During the 130 miles march of this summer toward Assisi we celebrated the ritual of the washing of the feet. Yes, He washed my feet. They were quite sweaty and smelled of hours of walking under the boiling sun. Our monks washed the feet to everyone while singing Maranatha. I could also emphasize the poetry of the moment...under the pines..the sun going down, crickets starting to sing...but it was not at all about that. It was a loving touch: those hands with water, that kiss on my feet. Oh Creator, you take me as I am, your promise is fulfilled, you give me eternal wishes, you give vocations of love.

And He is a God of endurance and encouragement. May He grant me to live in such harmony with one another, in accord with Christ Jesus, that together we may with one voice glorify the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ.

And somehow hospitality is all tied up with this. 

And remaining under.

Thank you Father God, for this very specific word of encouragement, a word to endure, to remain under, until your good work is accomplished. Your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.

And this morning the very full moon rose high in the pre-dawn blue sky full of black almost-full-of-rain-but-probably-not clouds. But the moon still held forth promise, bright and shining. 

Come and go with me

O magnify the LORD with me, and let us exalt His name together. Psalm 34:3

There’s a new book out this year about children falling pretty far off from the familial apple tree, but that sure isn’t me, which was only confirmed by my brother Tom’s detailing his spiritual, emotional and intellectual journey as we sat sipping tea in Vermont.  We certainly share the same sturdy roots twisting into the same rocky soil with both core strengths and lots of room for growth and change.   

And I am pretty sure that I first memorized and wallowed in Psalm 34 because my mother loved it so.  She had that verse about magnifying the LORD with me hanging above her heaped-up-high desk at Calvary Missionary Press as her constant reminder about what she was all about, and then Scott mounted it on a sanded board and hung it over the living room entrance as a declared mission statement on living through one day after another in a place that she never imagined or hoped for.  

And I overheard a conversation she had with Heather last night at family dinner, about working outside of the home after the children were born.  And she said that she spent so much time reading and studying the Bible after she stepped into Christianity, that it might as well have been a full time job.  That’s the thing about my parents choosing Jesus as all-grown-up adults with no religious preconceptions to push through and overcome- they leapt into the Word as if it were indeed true and applicable with no qualifying habits of complacency.

So when my dad read: Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress, it was perfectly obvious that he needed to start The Mexican Christian Children’s Fund and gather and haul food and shoes to a veritable bevy of orphanages clinging to the squatter hillsides of Tijuana and Ensenada every other weekend, month after month, year after year.  And we children joined them in the blue push-button-geared station wagon every other Saturday, and gave the kids our Halloween candy and cleaned the rat-filled pantries and shaved the lice-filled heads of hair because that’s what is pure and faultless.  

And when my mom read: Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some have unwittingly entertained angels, it was perfectly obvious that she should open up the kitchen table to all sorts of people, mostly very strange missionaries dressed in missionary-barrel shifts and boots and very strange people sitting alone in the back pew and very strange kids who got kicked out of their parents’ homes for staggering home drunk one time too many or for an awkward pregnancy or whatever.  And I know that I didn’t always appreciate sharing my bathroom and my time and space with these strangers and I promised myself that I would be different, but no, plop, I fell right under the apple tree because deep down inside I knew that it was good and made my life so very full and rich and bubbling over with flavor and grace.

And as I set out the trinkets from every possible bit of the world that clutter the fireplace mantel after neatly folding the Christmas stockings and stacking up the Christmas books swirled around the round plaster table by the front door and sweeping up the Christmas pine needles that found their way into every possible crevice, I know that this grace still bubbles, sending a sweet fragrance throughout my life.  No regrets, even after all the Moldovan Christmas jokes this season.  

So Jinsheng Wang arrived.  And he got the traditional welcome, Pippen wiggling unwelcomed at his feet, orange cat leaping onto his bed, a warm tasteful lunch with Jack and MaryAnne and the Alan Safari tour.  And after quite a few hand motions and careful, slightly too loud enunciation, I figured out that he would like some milk and sweetly handed him a glass...complete with one of those creepy brown cockroaches which fill me with continual despair and humiliation.  Drats.  

And who knows what the year will bring.  I will choose to not feel dismay with a very weary shell-shocked sixteen-year-old who doesn’t seem to be able to dig up any of his hard-learned English lessons.  I don’t know what any of it will look like, but from experience I certainly know that it will be unexpected and far more wonderful than I could have guessed.  That’s the good thing about being a bit of a Puddleglum.  It only gets better.  What I do know is that I want him to join in the picnic under that old apple tree, O magnify the LORD with me, let us exalt His name together.  

And yesterday, as Zach hugged me goodbye as he heads off to the big big world of not-falling-too-far-from-the-apple-tree, first stop Guatemala City, he hugged my jacket too.  The Mexico Outreach jacket.  Oh man, I think about that place often, he whispered.  I do too.  And one of the songs that I remember singing under the stars with thousands of tired but happy people was one with lots of jumping up and down and hand motions, 

Come and go with me to my Father's house.

It's a big, big house with lots and lots of room.

A big, big table with lots and lots of food.

A big, big yard where we can play football.

A big, big house, it's my Father's house.

All I know is a big, big house with rooms for everyone.

All I know is lots of land where we can play and run.

All I know is you need love, and I've got a family.

All I know is your all alone, why not come with me.

Perfectly obvious.