Light, Darkness, and a Flat Screen

There is something about light—the way it draws creatures; light attracts insects no less than people. I remember once when my wife and I were in Paris. It was summer but the weather was cold and rainy. After three days of downpours the sun finally emerged. And with the sun—with the light—people poured out of their homes and business to sit in the park with bread, wine, and cheese. Everyone was drawn by the light. 
                                                                                                  
Darkness, on the other hand, is different. Darkness can frighten us—whether we are eight or eighty. Once when I was backpacking in the mountains of Colorado I wandered away from camp to explore a trail. The sun set quickly behind a craggy snow-covered peak; and just as quickly darkness descended. Immediately I felt scared. Without light I was lost.     This is true of all forms of darkness: be it the physical, spiritual, or emotional absence of light. For example, the darkness of severe depression is frightening, as is divorce, or the loss of a job; these events can be more frightening than being lost in the darkness of the Rocky Mountains.      

God knows our need for light; after all, light was the very first act of God’s creation. But God also knows our need for spiritual light. For Christians, Jesus is the light of light, to use the phrase from the Nicene Creed. Jesus is light incarnate that leads us through the shadows of the world.                      

We may be seduced into believing that the light we long for can be found in the flicker of a new flat screen TV, or the glimmer of a diamond. The culture we live in does its best to tell us—and sell us—where to find light and life.  

But we know the truth, don’t we? We know that our lives will not be brighter, more meaningful, or hopeful if we get a new TV or a piece of jewelry. We know that the light we really long for does not come from things; the true light comes from God alone. Remember the light that rescues us from the darkness. Remember the light that is God’s love made flesh.       

Perspective: The annual question | StAugustine.com Mobile

Perspective: The annual question | StAugustine.com Mobile

In a Shopping Line at Target

My wife and I were Christmas shopping at Target. We were in the check-out line. Holiday music was playing. Lines were moving relatively fast considering the crowd. Generally speaking, the mood of each consumer seemed upbeat and convivial.

And then I heard this bass-of- a-voice coming from a thick-man two lines over. “I want to see a manager! I want to see a manger right this minute. I’m not leaving until I speak with a manager!”

The cashier, a lady who looked to be well-past the age of retirement and not in the best of health, asked the man not to yell. He yelled louder. And then a manager came over, at which point the man accused the cashier of being rude and mean.

A scene further developed when the man attempted to pull other shoppers into his battle, which he insisted sprang from a motive for justice. He was wronged by the old cashier in poor health, wounded by her joke, in which she asked if he wanted her job.

And then the upbeat and convivial lines became tense with fear. A shadow had been cast. The old cashier was removed and the bellowing man escorted to customer service. I no longer heard the holiday music. So I prayed for the man. And the cashier.

SEX and GOD

The word “sex” has over 3 billion result-hits on Google. By contrast, the word “God” does not even have 2 billion result-hits. I don’t know what to make of this. Google, of course, is a world-wide search engine so I can’t blame the discrepancy on the U.S. culture—or even on Western culture.

But what can we make of the disparity in result-hits? Why is “sex” a more popular topic on Google than “God?” Are people, statistically speaking, more interested in sex than in God? Or, is it that people feel they know less about sex than about God? Conversely, is God so mundane a topic that people aren’t as interested in researching the topic? Or, do people feel as if they are so familiar with God, like their own shoe size, that research on God is oxymoronic? Finally, does the wide margin of result-hits say something about the population who use Google and nothing definitive about people’s interest in sex or God?

Friendship

You don't get to choose your family. By Providence or by Chance, or some combination thereof, you are born into a tribe that shares your blood but, as you age, not necessarily your values.

And that is where the power and purpose of friendship comes in. Friends can become family. In this sense, spirit (that is the spirit that brings people together as friends) can be thicker than blood.

It's no lie to say that without my friends I would be...or not be. My faith in God has been kept afloat more often by friendship than by the Eucharist, the Lord's Supper. Or so I am inclined to believe. For me, friendship has become a sacrament instituted by God and blessed by our brother Jesus. Friendship is the physical sign of God's invisible grace.

Thanksgiving

The Thanksgiving holiday is upon us. And we are called to be grateful. Each of us. Grateful for the blessings in our lives.

I am more grateful to God than ever before. Sometimes it takes a little hell to be thankful for heaven. The little hell might be physical pain or emotional pain or financial pain or spiritual pain. Might be depression or bankruptcy.

But hopefully the little bit of hell ends as the night gives way to dawn. And in the dawn, facing the rising sun, we offer  to God prayers of gratitude for the passing of the night and the rebirth of hope.

Becoming a Father

From the beginning of the Genesis to the end of Revelation, the phrase, “Do not be afraid,” is consistent. In Genesis, when the Lord first condescends to Abram, the Lord says, “Do not be afraid.” When the angel comes to Mary in the gospel of Luke, the angel says, “Do not be afraid.” Not submitting to fear is a lesson taught over and over in Holy Scripture. Living a deep and meaningful life requires us to summon unusual courage. Becoming a father, or mother, is no different.

It happened like this:

Our favorite nurse met us at the door. Your mother settled into bed. The bed was surrounded by wires and hoses and machines. The labor began. Real labor. Five hours of it. And never once did your mother have pain medication. Not even an aspirin. She wanted to have you naturally.

That's where I came in. Or so I was told. I coached your mother. I helped her focus, relax, and breathe. So much of life is like that: focus, relax, and breathe. Five hours of hard labor and she breathed through the entire ordeal. Breathed through the pain and the exhaustion. Breathed through her fear.

It was beautiful. The room was dark, except for one small light. Music of the Taize Community in France softly played in the background. “Lord hear my prayer, Lord hear my prayer...”

The midwife arrived and your mom pushed. You began to emerge. First the crown of your head, wet and brown. I was dumbfounded. Then your face, red with eyes closed. Then, quite suddenly, you wiggled out. I was awestruck. Your birth was the greatest thing I had ever seen.

Immediately after you emerged, the midwife, staring into my eyes, asked, “Dad what do we have?” “A son,” I replied. “A son.” And these words, dear William, are two of the most sacred words I've ever spoken. “A son.” It was 5:37 AM. And not a day goes by that I don't thank God for you.

Happy Birthday.

Certainty

Is there a place for smug self-certainty in the face of the grand mystery called God? Is there a place for snide confidence in claiming only one interpretation of a biblical text? How can anyone, with a shred of humility, dare say that THEY KNOW THE ABSOLUTE TRUTH about each and every Christian claim or each and every sentence in the Bible?

Humble God

I swing quietly in the hammock and listen to the leaves fall from the trees. Some of the leaves hit my head, my arms, my feet. The wind carries a few of them over the fence. And for a moment nothing moves—not the wind or leaves. Not even a dog barks. The ocean, three blocks away, is also quiet.

The stillness is thick with energy, with a feeling of God. God moving around me and the trees, overhead, beneath, on all sides. A force unseen but intuited. And I wonder, why is it that such a grand force as God prefers to remain unseen? Why is God so inconspicuous, so subtle, so humble?

Community

Walking east towards the bay, the wind blowing through the narrow stone streets of St. Augustine, I happened upon a young vagabond couple and their infant son. The couple wore no shoes, their hair dreaded, as they peddled bright surrealistic paintings rendered on cardboard roughly torn from boxes found in dumpsters.

They are intentional in their lives, I admit, however different. They are intentional about living in a van, “off the grid,” as they said. Living day to day, no time clocks, credit scores, taxes to be paid.

Nice enough people. Friendly. But I found myself wondering about their young child and the future that they may be unintentionally creating for him. I wondered about their lack of community and how without community I would not be who I am.  

I thumbed through their paintings but none were quite my style. I left the couple and their baby and kept walking towards the bay, more firmly believing that we have been created by God for community.

Pizza or Where is the Love?

Picking up my pizza on Halloween I struck up a conversation with the owner, a gentle man, who happens to be from Afghanistan. A Muslim.  Two kids. He and his wife are trying to make it all work in America. And it is, mostly. But there is hostility. Not a lot. But any hostility is too much hostility.

And the hostility generally comes from Christians. It’s an oxymoron. Hostile-Christians. And so I confessed: “I am a Christian. A pastor, actually. And I apologize for my brothers and sisters who have been hostile to you and your family.”

And I left with my hot cheese pizza and wondered silently, “Where is the love?”

All Hallows’ Eve

All Hallows’ Eve and I think of the saints who have gone before me. I think of those persons who, with the help of the Spirit, built the Church—in the catholic sense of the word.  I think of the people who, without which, I would not be who I am today. I think of my mother, great grandfather, my Huguenot ancestors. I think of the historical line that stretches back to the beginning, to that first person in my family who heard the Jesus-message. On that person’s shoulders do I stand; I am but a part of a long line of history that is not dead but alive in a mysterious way.

Today look back and be grateful for the saints who have gone before you. Look back at the shoulders you stand upon. And then look up: for those very saints surround us still. They surround us in a great communion and grand cloud of witnesses.

A Mystical Experience With My Dog

It may have been too much coffee or not enough coffee but I think I had a mystical experience with my dog.

We were lying on the blue and salmon colored oriental carpet in front of the fire place, nestled between the couch and the hearth. I was petting her black head. And she (her name is Dixie) stared into my eyes. And for a second, maybe two, I felt this deep connection to her...almost as if I were connecting to a person...but different...more silent, mysterious, and foreign. And, if I had to guess, God was moving in that moment. And if that was case, then...

Know Thyself

"Know thyself..."

It's a beautiful and difficult search into the caverns of bright and dark spots of personal and family history where God has created, redeemed, and sustained. For some, like myself, to know thyself can be the most exciting search of their lives--despite being frightening. But the search offers hope and joy, if mixed at points with frear, exactly because God is present in the search, surrounds the search, and is the ultimate end of the search.

These Minds

Watching Flagler College students walk into the library, their minds being pushed, pulled, and stretched…I wondered, “Why has God has given us these minds? These minds that think, question, become curious, seek answers, appreciate mystery, create poems, know love, fear, sadness, and joy? Why these minds and not some other mind?”

What does the creation of our minds say about our Creator and the nature of being human?

Providence Holds You

How would our families look, how would our world look, how would your life look if you took to heart that God loves us and all creation with a love that will never let us go? If you were really convinced that Providence holds you within an everlasting grip of grace? Might you put less pressure on yourself and others? Might you stop and smell the roses a little more? Might you follow your dreams?

 I doubt there is anything more important than the message that no matter whether we succeed or fail, no matter whether we feel loved or un-loved:  we belong to God and we are loved beyond our wildest imaginations.

Six In The Morning

Coffee in hand at six in the morning that chilled my Florida bones. My wife and I sat on the deck with Orion overhead and the sound of the ocean three blocks away. Everything silent except the lull of little waves. A moment of deep peace and grace pregnant with gratitude that brought tears to our eyes. Live with gratitude...

Children

The children file into the day school, their faces lit with smiles, their hair combed or tossed, their superhero lunch boxes held by small, soft hands. They are walking, breathing bodies of hope and love. And I think adults should become more like children and less like adults.

Friends

Friends are God's gift of love. Where would we be without them? Give thanks to God who gave you your friend(s).

Doing Dishes

Practice the presence of God while you're doing dishes. Each dish in your hand can become the love of God. Everything ordinary can become spiritual practice, the ultimate goal of which is love of God in every detail of life.

Questions

What God-oriented questions are you asking? No question is too silly or strange to ask. What's on your mind these days?

Food

The array of choices can be overwhelming.


Fish from Thailand, berries from Mexico, peaches from Georgia. We live in the middle of a food-web that I feel estranged from. Estranged from my food. Where does it come from, who handles it, how much gas does it cost to get it to me, how is the farm labor treated, what would life be like without the global network that makes it way into my local grocery store?

Whatever happened to seasonal, local food? Whatever happened to food-simplicity?

Turn It Off

We are besieged by noise. Even in the relative quiet of an unoccupied room with only a computer as your friend. Even there the computer hums.

Sometimes you just have to get unplugged. Turn off the phone. Mute the tweets. Let facebook exist without your status updates. Turn the ipod, TV, and Wii off.

In all of my years of spiritual searching, in all my time groping for a sense of God's presence I have never found a deeper way to be touched by the Spirit than through silence.

What?

What is most important to you?

It's never too early or too late to ask this question. In fact, I think this question should be a constant point of reference for us. This question can weed out the garbage in our lives. This question can help keep us focused. This question can help bring meaning to our days.

What is most important to you? Are you living it?

Gratitude

We have so much to be grateful for. Sometimes we forget. Other times we ignore. And still other times we deny that we have much to be thankful for. But look around you. Look within you. Look at the people in your life.

If we all started appreciating what we have more than worrying about what we don't have, we'd all be better off.

Painting and Repainting

I've seen them working on again and off again for weeks. Scraping the paint, sanding, painting a fresh coat, then another. Attentive to their work, patient as the sun is hot, the three men keep at it.

Their work on the church steps and wheelchair ramp remind me of how we ought to approach our relationship with God. Slow, patient, and attentive. Nothing too fast. Steady work. Keep at it; keep praying, studying, thinking, serving.

Unlike the painting job, though, our spiritual work will never end. We must keep painting and repainting, sanding and scraping, even as God sands, scrapes, and repaints us.

Small Steps

Jesus counsels us not to worry. But how can we not feel some anxiety, some measure of fear when we consider the unknown, uncertain future of our lives and the lives of those we love? How can we abandon worry when own our personal histories teach us that we have very little control over what may befall us?

We know, intellectually, that we should not worry but trust God. But how do we practice such a robust trust in divine grace and sympathy? How—concretely—do we live into Providence? How do we abandon ourselves to Providence and lose the anxiety and worry that besets the world over?

Small steps. Begin with four words, often repeated: “Thy will be done.”

Sick Day

A rainy Sunday morning

And the sound from three blocks away

Pushing through the foggy quietude,

The ringing of the First Presbyterian bell

A sound soft but strong

Sharp thud

Escaping into the neighborhood,

Which is long accustomed to the old voice.

The ring is no stranger to the

Hair-like moss dripping from oaks and magnolias

Hanging high over the cracked blacktop

Chipped red brick hiding underneath.

The ring grabs the ears and imagination

And I can see the red-robed choir

Ready for the procession and

An acolyte, maybe my son,

Leading the whole holy bunch of them

Into a sacred hour out of step with the times

But into an eternity,

 As I lie flat on my back at home

Listening to the bell and a fire in the hearth

And to a little voice that whispers

“Be still and you will heal.”

Blessings

Do you ever feel caught between two ways of living? Caught between a life that longs for the blessing of the world and the life that longs for the blessing of God?

The world blesses glamor, physical prowess, brilliance, efficiency, beauty, and money. Jesus does not bless these things. Jesus blesses mercy, peacemaking, righteousness, and purity of heart, among other things.

We need to learn which blessings to ultimately seek. We need to learn to ultimately value the blessings that Jesus valued over against the blessings that the world values.

AZ

It’s hard to know what to feel, except sadness and disgust. It’s hard to know what to think except, “Why?”

Why the murders? Why did a 22 year old guy want to kill people? Why, for that matter, do we live as if something equally tragic doesn’t occur every day in our nation? Do we simply feel powerless to affect any change, whatsoever—in ourselves and in our culture? Do we simply live overwhelmed by the sheer immensity of the violence that we see on TV, at the movies, hear on the news?

O, how God must weep.