Tag Archives: Acting

Chapter-a-Day

Recitation and Relationships

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Recitation and Relationships (CaD Matt 18) – Wayfarer

“This is how my heavenly Father will treat each of you unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”
Matthew 18:35 (NIV)

Every week our local gathering of Jesus’ followers says The Lord’s Prayer together. As we do, Wendy and I tend to paraphrase the traditional language a bit on our own. I think it’s funny and fascinating that the institutional church chooses to update the wording of certain things (music, translation of the Bible, the wording of the Apostle’s Creed, and etc.) but not others. Please don’t read what I’m not writing. I don’t think there’s anything particularly wrong or right. It’s the kind of ecclesiastical hair-splitting that have, for too long, gotten people’s undies in a bunch and caused more harm than good.

I see both sides of traditional words and phrasing for well-worn passages. Sometimes the traditional, yet out-of-date, wording is like a comfy old sweatshirt that wraps you in the warmth and comfort of something familiar which has been with you and seen you through long stretches of life’s journey. On the other hand, I have often found that as I press into new and unfamiliar stretches of life’s journey, I am challenged to address new and extraordinary circumstances that require me to find new layers of wisdom in traditional thoughts and meditations.

And, as the Bard famously said, “there’s the rub.”

I know, personally, that when I recite the same words over and over and over again, they begin to lose their potency. I’m just going through the motions. So, I tend to do what I was taught as I studied acting. You take the memorized line of a script and play with it, emphasizing a different word or phrase with increased inflection with each subsequent recitation. As I am fond of saying, metaphors are layered with meaning, and often as I emphasize and change my inflection with different words in the oft repeated sentence, it makes me consider different ways of considering the same words or phrases.

One of the phrases of The Lord’s Prayer that has taken on increased meaning for me as I have practiced this is: “and forgive us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us.” This is a request with a stated acknowledgement of reciprocal relational responsibility. I’m asking God to forgive my sins, while acknowledging that I can only expect to be forgiven to the degree I am willing to forgive those who have wronged me.

In today’s chapter, Jesus unpacks this uncomfortable spiritual principle in a parable. A king has a servant who owes him a thousand dollars he has never been able to pay. Upon the pleading of the indebted servant, the king mercifully forgives the debt. This same man exits the kings chamber and runs into a fellow servant who owes him ten bucks. He goes postal on the dude, demanding the ten-spot without even considering the weight of debt from which he’d just been graciously and mercifully freed. The king finds out about the hypocrisy, hauls the ungrateful servant into his court and had him tortured until he paid every cent he was owed.

Now comes the intense and uncomfortable part. Jesus follows up this parable by stating quite directly: “This is how my heavenly Father will treat you, Tom, unless you forgive your brother or sister from your heart.”

Ouch. Hello, sobering Monday morning meditation. When I recited those famous words with my fellow followers yesterday, there’s potent spiritual punch lurking behind the well-worn words. Forgive me God, just as I have forgiven those who’ve sinned against me. Wait a minute. Maybe there are some heart and relationship matters I should have addressed before I showed up in my Sunday best to go through the religious motions.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself entering another work week thinking about my relational realities in light of my religious recitations. If there’s a disconnect between the two, then the latter was an impotent ritual. That’s the thing about a cozy old sweatshirt. If it becomes threadbare and filled with holes, it has lost its ability to accomplish the original purpose.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

These chapter-a-day blog posts are also available via podcast on all major podcast platforms including Apple, Google, and Spotify! Simply go to your podcast platform and search for “Wayfarer Tom Vander Well.” If it’s not on your platform, please let me know!
Chapter-a-Day

“The Why”

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For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast. For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.
Ephesians 2:8-10 (NIV)

On a shelf in my office you’ll find some notebooks. The notebooks contain character studies of different parts I’ve played as an actor. When I trained as an actor in college, I was taught that being an actor is not so much pretending to be a character (like putting on a costume, from outside in) but understanding a character so thoroughly that you transform into that person from the inside out. A great performance on stage begins, not on stage, but in my study with a notebook, the script, and all the resources I can muster. Understanding why my character makes certain choices, says the words he says, and does the things he does requires a cocktail of psychology, imagination, investigation, and meditation. The “why” is critical to the “what.”

Along my journey, I have found this to also be a spiritual truth.

Today’s chapter contains two verses that are foundational to an understanding what it means to be a disciple of Jesus. Ephesians 2:8-9 are well known verses:

For it is by grace you have been saved, through faith—and this is not from yourselves, it is the gift of God— not by works, so that no one can boast.

I have found, however, that this is one of the most difficult truths for people to truly believe. Not just cognitively understand, but experientially understand. Throughout my life journey I have continually observed believers who pressure themselves (and their children) to do the right things, say the right things, and keep up appearances of goodness in order to conform to religious social pressure, avoid being ashamed, and to hopefully live a good enough life to be welcomed into eternity with a “well done, my good and faithful servant.”

The problem with this scenario is not in the what but in the why.

As I meditated on the chapter in the quiet this morning, it struck me that I’ve heard Ephesians 2:8-9 quoted regularly my entire life. Not once, however, have I heard someone quote verse 10 with it:

For we are God’s handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

Yet this is a critical and essential context! The “good works” flow immediately out of being “saved by grace through faith.” If I were an actor doing a character study of a sincere disciple of Jesus, I would dig into the “why” of their good works and find that the motivation is gratitude for Jesus’ kindness, grace, and mercy. I have observed in others that their good works are motivated by ingratiation — both the hope of maintaining acceptance and social status among the religious set and also punching one’s ticket of admission into heaven.

This distinction of “the why” is critical for any true understanding of Jesus and His teaching. I make certain choices, say the words I say, and do the things I do “because of his great love for me, God, who is rich in mercy, made me alive with Christ even when I was dead in my transgressions.” The good works don’t flow into salvation but out of it.

If I, in my heart and soul, don’t get the “why” right, then all of my good works are simply a shitty performance on the stage of life.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Physical Punctuation

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Physical Punctuation (CaD Ezk 6) – Wayfarer

“‘This is what the Sovereign Lord says: Strike your hands together and stamp your feet and cry out “Alas!” because of all the wicked and detestable practices of the people of Israel, for they will fall by the sword, famine and plague.”
Ezekiel 6:11 (NIV)

One of the things that I was taught when I was studying acting was the importance of observing people in almost everything they do. The way people walk, for instance; Their gate, stride, and how they carry their body in the simple act of walking. In high school, I had a split period over the lunch hour. I and my buddies often found ourselves standing outside Mrs. Zembles’ classroom after lunch waiting for her to return to unlock the classroom door. To pass the time, I would do walking impersonations for my friends. I would watch someone walk by in the hallway, then I would mimic the way they walked and my friends found it hilarious. Little idiosyncratic things like a unique walk or a repetitive gesture are the types of things that make a character more real on stage. Actors like Daniel Day-Lewis are masters of this.

Because I was trained to observe people, I find that I still notice little things about people. Wendy, for instance, has an unconscious habit of physically punctuating what she’s saying by slapping her hand on her thigh or the table if we happen to be sitting at one. I find it endearing. She is such a passionate person that even in normal conversation her body unconsciously emphasizes her words with physical punctuation.

The same device is used in public speaking or preaching. If I really want to emphasize my words and let my listeners know how strongly I feel about it, my hand will pound the pulpit with each and every word.

In today’s chapter, God gives Ezekiel a message to share with “the mountains of Israel.” His first message was specifically about Jerusalem. Now he turns to mountains to prophesy against their idolatry.

The prophets often railed against the “high places,” and it’s worth a little historical background. After their Exodus from Egypt and wandering in the wilderness, the Hebrews entered the Promised Land and settled there. The traveling tent temple called the Tabernacle, was parked and for a time the Tabernacle and the Ark of the Covenant that went inside it were separated. Until Solomon built the Temple hundreds of years later, there wasn’t a strong central place of worship.

The culture of that day was to have altars built at the top of hills and mountains. So, with no strong central place of worship, the Hebrews built small, personal altars on the top of mountains and hills on which to offer sacrifices. Some became more central places of worship for Hebrews in certain regions and it was accepted given their current circumstances.

But, of course, all of the pagan religions had their altars and centers of worship on the “high places” as well, and over time the Hebrews would mingle or outright mix their religious beliefs and practices. That became a problem, especially when some of these Canaanite religions included sexually immoral acts and even child sacrifice in their practices. It should also be noted that the same thing happened in Solomon’s temple. Instead of being an exclusive temple for the worship of Yahweh, different kings would have pagan altars and worship centers moved into the Temple until it became a carnival of worship for a plethora of different deities. God, whose #1 and #2 commands on His Top Ten list were not to worship other gods or make/worship a graven image, wasn’t pleased.

I found it interesting that as God gives His message to Ezekiel, he also coaches the prophet to “Strike your hands together and stamp your feet.” Punctuate the words, Wendy-like. Pound the pulpit. Emphasize the words you’re saying with a physical action to let your listeners know how passionately you feel about this and how important your message is.

In the quiet this morning, I simply find myself reminded of the words of the Sage of Ecclesiastes: There is a time for everything under the sun. There is a time for soft messages delivered gently, and there is a time for urgent messages emphatically delivered and physically punctuated. Wisdom is knowing the difference. Discernment is acting on it in both delivery and receipt.

Note: I plan to take tomorrow off and enjoy a long holiday weekend. See you next Tuesday!

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

The Medium Matters

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Now Joab son of Zeruiah perceived that the king’s mind was on Absalom. Joab sent to Tekoa and brought from there a wise woman. He said to her, “Pretend to be a mourner; put on mourning garments, do not anoint yourself with oil, but behave like a woman who has been mourning many days for the dead. Go to the king and speak to him as follows.” And Joab put the words into her mouth. 2 Samuel 14:1-3 (NSRV)

A few weeks ago, while Wendy and I were spending a few days at the lake, we watched the movie 12 Years a Slave. The Academy Award-winning movie is based on a book written during the abolition movement in America and is the autobiography of a free African American living in the north who was kidnapped, smuggled to the south, and sold into slavery. His story was so powerful, and so powerfully told, that Wendy and I sat speechless on the couch as the credits rolled, tears streaking down our cheeks. Our hearts had been rent. It was, for me, a history lesson, a parable about the human condition, and a call to continue opening my eyes, my mouth, my pen, and my wallet to address similar injustices that still exist in this world today.

One of the reasons I love the arts, and the dramatic arts, in particular, is their ability to communicate spiritual truths and move people to action in a way that no other mode of communication does. I remember during one of the final read-throughs of my script Ham Buns and Potato Salad before we were to go into production one of the female readers, emotionally shaken by the story, exclaimed that we had better have counselors available at the back of the theatre because of the emotions and painful memories it might stir within audience members. I was taken aback by her strong emotional response after simply being part of a table reading of the script. I took it as a compliment that the script and the story stirred her that deeply. As a writer, it gratified me to know that the story had effectively reached at least one person at that level.

Today’s chapter is one that I studied in depth while pursuing my theatre degree in college. It is one of only a few stories of acting told throughout the entirety of the Great Story. Joab needed to get through to King David. Perhaps he’d seen how Nathan’s story of the rich man stealing the poor man’s only lamb had gotten through to the king. David couldn’t see his blind spot even if Joab tried to reveal it to him plainly, but when Joab cloaked it in a metaphorical story, David could finally see his own situation clearly. Joab decides to hire an actor, costuming her in mourning clothes, using a little make-up to make it look like she’d been grieving, and giving her a script to follow. She played the part brilliantly. What impresses me is that she took the part and nailed the role knowing that the King, once it was revealed that he’d been conned, could easily have ordered her death for “deceiving” him with her charade.

I believe that we don’t give enough thought to how we communicate. Not only on a corporate level but also on an interpersonal one. Most every human conflict can be traced back to a breakdown in communication. I believe equally that the hope of redemption and restoration hinges on our ability to communicate it, not only clearly, but in multiple channels and mediums. It was during the pandemic that I start recording these chapter-a-day posts and publishing them as a podcast. I’ve had multiple people confess to me that they never read my posts, but they faithfully listen to the podcast. There’s a lesson in that. Sometimes I have to change the medium of my communication in order for the person on the other end to receive the message.

 A Note to Readers
I’m taking a blogging sabbatical and will be re-publishing my chapter-a-day thoughts on David’s continued story in 2 Samuel while I’m take a little time off in order to focus on a few other priorities. Thanks for reading.
Today’s post was originally published in May 2014.

Today’s featured image was created with Wonder A.I.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Version 2.0

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Version 2.0 (CaD Heb 3) – Wayfarer

“Moses was faithful as a servant in all God’s house,” bearing witness to what would be spoken by God in the future. But Christ is faithful as the Son over God’s house. And we are his house…
Hebrews 3:5-6 (NIV)

When I was trained as an actor in college, I was taught that I won’t really portray my character well unless I truly understand that character. This includes learning everything about my character’s life and background. When I played Daddy Warbucks in Annie, I did a lot of study into New York at the time of the play complete with maps and photos to locate and picture what it looked like. I looked up every person, place, and thing referenced in the script. I even made choices about Daddy Warbucks’ own life story, things that weren’t known or referenced, in order to better understand his life, his character, and how he relates to other characters and events on stage. I looked up what kind of Limo he would have had, what life was like for a business and social elite in the stock market crash and during the Great Depression.

Okay, stick with me here.

In my experience, the book of Hebrews, also known as The Letter to the Hebrews, is one of the least read and studied in what we call the New Testament. And, I understand why. The author (who wrote Hebrews has been hotly contested since the Reformation). is writing to a very specific audience (Jewish/Hebrew followers of Jesus) at a very specific point in time (the first century as the Jesus movement was rapidly growing), with a very specific purpose (to explain how/why Jesus changes everything for the Hebrew people).

Because of this, a casual 21st-century reader fails to understand much of the letter, how crucial it was to those reading it, and how important it is in fully understanding how Jesus fit into the larger Great Story.

Sometimes I apply my actor’s training in character study to my reading of texts like Hebrews. I learn about what life was like for a Hebrew believer in the first century. What I discovered is that, when I read the text wearing those sandals, Jesus has radically transformed everything I was raised to believe.

I was taught that the Temple in Jerusalem is the center of my religion and worship. Jesus is telling me I, my body, is the Temple.

I was taught that there are certain foods that are clean, and other foods that are unclean. Jesus is telling me that all foods are now clean.

I was taught to make regular, ritual sacrifices at the Temple so my sins would be forgiven. Jesus is telling me that the entire sacrificial system is now on the scrap-heap of history and that Jesus was the once-and-for-all sacrifice that forgives my sins and makes me holy.

I was taught that the Hebrew people were God’s chosen people and everyone else should be ignored and shunned because they’ll make me unclean in God’s eyes. And, if I’m honest, I’ve been taught to be smug about this. Jesus is telling me that I’m to love, accept, and be in relationship with all people regardless of their nationality, race, gender, social standing, or religious background. I’m to love those I’ve been forever taught to hate.

All of a sudden, I begin to understand why Hebrews was such an essentially needed text for these Jewish believers. The author is helping me bridge the radical paradigm gap. He is helping me understand how to wrap my head and spirit around what seems like such extreme changes to what I have lived, breathed, learned, known, and practiced my entire life.

For this first-century Hebrew transformed into Jesus’ follower, Moses has been forever held up as the key figure in the history of my faith. Through Moses, the Law was given (all the rules that dictated my life). Through Moses, the sacrificial system, the tent/temple-centered worship, and the arrangement of priests as God’s go-betweens were instituted.

In today’s chapter, the author of Hebrews is explaining that Jesus, who is the author and creator of Moses and the old system, is a higher authority of Moses. Jesus isn’t denying Moses, the Law, and the system that has been in place for over a thousand years. Jesus, the original programmer and author of the code, is finally introducing a massive upgrade to Version 2.0. Most of us know how it feels when our familiar old, foundational, software gets upgraded and suddenly everything is different. That’s what the audience of Hebrews was feeling. That, on steroids.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself thinking about the changes I have experienced as a follower of Jesus in my 40+ year journey. The pomp, main-line, high-church ritual, and corporate worship of my childhood upbringing feel ancient to me now. At times, it is the source of sentimental nostalgia. At times, I can see in retrospect the spiritual metaphors which were completely lost on me while I was religiously entrenched in it. Yet, Jesus was always about growing, expanding, and transforming. My faith is continually updated as I journey forward and add new layers of both information and experience. I don’t even know what version I’m now! This is the way.

And, that I think that was one of the things I most loved about Daddy Warbucks as I stood in his wing-tips on stage. It was the transformation he makes each performance from his first entrance to his final bow. That’s how I’ve experienced my spiritual journey as a follower of Jesus. When I make this life’s final bow, I will be a completely different version of the person who entered the journey.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

“I’m Over It!” (Or Not)

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"I'm Over It!" (Or, Not) [CaD Gen 41] – Wayfarer

Joseph named his firstborn Manasseh and said, “It is because God has made me forget all my trouble and all my father’s household.”
Genesis 41:51 (NIV)

I was directing a play many years ago. As the director, I asked my actors to do a study of their characters. I gave them specific questions to answer about their character’s life and background. Through my studies and acting experiences, I found this to be an invaluable tool in taking performance to a higher level. Few actors, especially in community theatre, actually followed through in doing these assignments and it’s not like I could make them do it. I watched those who did measurably improve their skills and create some memorable performances.

One of those who did was a lead actor who attacked the character work and wrote some great stuff in a journal. During the rehearsal process, I allowed me to read what had been written about the character. It was thoughtful, detailed, and really, really good. I noticed, however, that there was one thing that was glaringly missing in the character study: There was not a single mention of a father in the character’s life. When I mentioned this, it opened a doorway to a much deeper life conversation. Actors tend to bring all that we are, including our blind spots, to our characters. There was a reason a father was not mentioned in the character study. It was a touchy subject for my actor in real life.

Today’s chapter is a major turning point in Joseph’s story. His life, like Limony Snicket, has been a series of unfortunate events. What Joseph doesn’t know is that each circumstance has been leading him to the fulfillment of the dream he had as a child; The dream that started the chain of unfortunate events. Pharaoh has a dream that plagues him. His cupbearer remembers Joseph interpreting his dream and tells Pharaoh. Pharaoh has Joseph brought to him from prison. God, through Joseph, interprets the dream. Joseph is raised to the position of VP (Vice-Pharaoh) of Egypt.

What struck me in today’s chapter was the fact that Joseph had a son and names him “Mannaseh.” The name sounds like a derivative of the Hebrew word for “forgets,” and Joseph says, “It is because God has made me forget all my trouble and all my father’s household.”

Along my life journey, I’ve observed that there are some things we never forget and we never really “get over them.” This is especially true of the soul wounds that come from fathers and family. When I read of Joseph saying that he has forgotten the soul wounds of being beaten, almost murdered, and sold into slavery by his own brothers, my own soul cynically cried, “Foul!” When I’ve asked friends with serious father wounds how they’ve dealt with it and they’ve told me, “It doesn’t bother me anymore. I’m over it” it’s never true. In my experience, one never “gets over” a soul wound (especially father wounds). Rather, I have to “get through” it and do the hard work of understanding just how intimately the wound is a part of me. Ignoring it allows it to be a blind spot forever plaguing my journey. Walking through it is the opportunity for it to teach me wisdom.

Despite the joy and redemption that Joseph is feeling with his deliverance, his exalted position, and the birth of a son, Joseph has definitely not forgotten his troubles and his father’s household. God has him on a collision course to face those soul wounds head-on.

And, that’s another thing I’ve observed and experienced along my spiritual journey. Until I consciously walk “through” my soul wounds, address them, process them, and learn from them, they continue to bleed into my life again, and again, and again. I can say “I’m over it” as much as I want, but the honest subtext of that statement is “I’m ignoring it.”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

“That Story Is My Story”

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That Story Is My Story (CaD Ps 66) – Wayfarer

Come and hear, all you who fear God;
    let me tell you what he has done for me.
Psalm 66:16 (NIV)

It’s been a number of years since I’ve been on stage. Other than a bit part in a friends movie short in which I played a creepy figure in some guys sub-conscious, I have to tax my memory to recall the last part I played that required me to do the work of character analysis. The process of character analysis is, for me, where all the fun is.

Character analysis is a process of peeling back the character you are embodying layer by layer. The playwright gave you the words and the story. Now you begin to dig into who this person really is. This character may have been played a thousand times by the best actors in the world, but not by me. I don’t want to mimic what other actors have done. I want to understand the character myself. What does he look like? How does he walk? How does his voice sound? What is it he wants, and that is it that drives him? How does he feel about every other character in the play?

In the process of character development, I find connections of both sympathy and empathy with my character. The character is going through a divorce. Oh yeah, I sympathize with that because I’ve been through it. It’s not going to be hard for me to feel those feelings on stage. I’ve been there. I’ve never murdered another person, however, so I have no clue what that kind of remorse feels like. So, maybe I need to read different stories or confessions of actual murderers so that I can begin to empathize and cognitively identify with those feelings.

As I read through and identify with the Great Story, one of the things I’ve learned is that God uses story because we find a connection to ourselves, our lives, and our stories in the story. A couple of years ago I gave a message during the season of Lent predicated on the James Bond movie, Skyfall. I know. It was a bold choice. I wasn’t sure I would ever be asked back! The message was really about where we find ourselves in the story of Jesus’ final week on earth. I asked people to make a connection between our life and a character in the story. Am I…

the betrayer?
the denier?
the grieving mother?
the religious rule-keeper?
the crowd member shouting “Crucify him!”?
the fearful follower running for cover?
the doubter demanding evidence?

One of the most important things in reading and studying the Great Story is finding the personal connections to my story.

In today’s chapter, Psalm 66, the songwriter does something very interesting in the lyrics. At the beginning of the song he writes, “Come and see what God has done” and then references the Hebrew story of God leading them out of slavery, through the trials of the wilderness, and into the Promise Land. In the last stanza, the songwriter then says, “Come and hear what God has done for me.” He then describes God hearing his prayer and answering it, ending with words of praise. He found a connection between what God had done for him and what God had done for the Hebrews in the exodus.

Been there. Done that. That story is my story.

In the quiet this morning, this song of thanksgiving for answered prayer, guidance, and provision is connecting with me as my heart and mind prepare for the Thanksgiving holiday coming up. In a year filled with so many trials, I have so much with which I can be thankful; there’s so much, in faith, I have to look forward to.

That’s a good thought for a Monday morning heading into the workweek. I find myself mindful of God’s goodness to me on the road I’ve traveled, thankful for where God has me on this day, and hopeful of where God is leading me in the journey ahead.

Chapter-a-Day

The Question That Makes All the Difference

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The Question that Makes All the Difference (CaD Ex 35) – Wayfarer

All the Israelite men and women whose hearts made them willing to bring anything for the work that the Lord had commanded by Moses to be done, brought it as a freewill offering to the Lord.
Exodus 35:29 (NRSVCE)

When I studied acting back in high school and college I was trained to repeatedly ask the question “Why?”

“Why is my character saying this?”
“Why is my character doing this?”
“Why is my character so fond of that character?”
“Why is my character being such an ass in this scene?”

The most common and classic question that has often been parodied is, “What’s my motivation?”

Here’s what I learned in the process. The question is more important for me in life than it is as an actor on stage.

“Why do I repeatedly do the thing I say I don’t want to do?”
“Why am I staying in a job that I hate?”
“Why has my marriage been an interpersonal war for fifteen years?”
“Why do I go to church if I don’t even believe?”
“Why am I always buying stuff I don’t need just to fill my life with things I don’t use?”
“Why do I feel such rage all the time?”

Notice that all of those questions are reflective of negative feelings and behaviors, but the same question of motivation is important for the positive things we think, say, and do as well. Jesus was constantly pointing out that pious, religious people who were doing things with all the wrong-motives weren’t part of the Kingdom of God while humble, sinful outsiders with all sorts of baggage who lovingly sacrificed themselves for others were.

In today’s chapter, we find Moses and the Hebrews still camped at Mount Sinai. Moses has spent a total of 80 days (and we’ve spent a total of 15 chapters) on the mountain with God downloading God’s vision, instructions, and commands. Now it’s time to implement the vision and actually construct this traveling tent temple called the Tabernacle. So Moses calls on the Hebrews to pitch-in, donate the materials needed, and help with the labor of construction.

What struck me was the repeated phrases that spoke of the motivation of those giving of their time and resources:

  • “…let whoever is of a generous heart bring the Lord’s offering…”
  • “And they came, everyone whose heart was stirred, and everyone whose spirit was willing…”
  • “So they came, both men and women; all who were of a willing heart…”
  • “…all the women whose hearts moved them to use their skill…”
  • “All the Israelite men and women whose hearts made them willing to bring anything for the work that the Lord had commanded by Moses to be done, brought it as a freewill offering to the Lord.”

For me, the message was loud and clear. God wanted those who were motivated to help, not those who were doing it under duress like the slaves they were back in Egypt. For the thing God was doing among them, God wanted those who were genuinely generous of heart, willing spirit, stirred within, motivated and compelled by souls open to God’s Spirit.

If I’m doing it for all the wrong reasons I need to just stop. I need to walk away. Doing the right thing with all the wrong motivations is not what God’s Kingdom is about. First, I must honestly and sincerely deal with the “Why?” Did you know Jesus actually turned away would-be followers? In each case, it was never a matter of sin, but of motivation that He questioned.

So, in the quiet this morning I find myself taking a spiritual step back and asking myself “why” I do the things I do. Why do I follow Jesus? Why have I spent my time and energy writing these posts for almost 15 years with nothing of any worldly value to show for it? What is it that Wendy and I do with our time, energy, and resources on a daily basis, and why the heck are we doing it?

Along this life journey, I’ve observed that it’s quite common for humans to live on auto-pilot. Life is a series of rote words and actions motivated by nothing more than base human appetites and a lifetime of the systemic conditioning of family, education, and local culture. When I decided to follow Jesus (not just be a religious church member, but really follow what Jesus lived and taught) and then when Jesus led me to follow the stirring of my heart to study theatre, I was taught to honestly ask the question that has made all the difference in my life:

“Why am I…[fill in the blank]?”

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day, Wayfarer Podcast

Roughing It…Not

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Roughing It…Not (CaD Ex 16) – Wayfarer

But when they measured it with an omer, those who gathered much had nothing over, and those who gathered little had no shortage; they gathered as much as each of them needed.
Exodus 16:18 (NRSVCE)

I have never been big on camping. I love the romance of it, and it there are pieces of it that appeal to me. The truth is that it’s never been my thing as far as vacations go. My family vacations for the vast majority of my childhood was two-weeks every summer spent a family camp on Rainy Lake, Minnesota. But, we stayed inside a cabin that had heat if it was cold, shelter if it was raining, a bed to sleep in every night, and a full kitchen for making meals. “Roughing it” meant there was no television.

This kind of “getting away” continues for Wendy and me as we spend chunks of our summer at the lake. It’s not exactly roughing it, but there is still a measure of planning and preparation that has to occur. For my wife, who is gifted at planning and organization, the planning and prep begin long before our scheduled departure. Mean plans, water, stock, grocery plan, weather, proper clothing for the weather, anticipated activities, who will be with us, what those who will be with us will want/need, etc., etc., and etc.

In today’s chapter, the Hebrews continue their exit from Egyptian slavery. They find themselves in the wilderness. You have to think about it. Hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children of every age along with everything they own and their livestock. Essentially, this is the population of a large city “roughing it” together.

Nobody made a meal plan.

I can feel Wendy groaning with utter incredulity at the sheer magnitude of this oversight. I mean, there’s a grocery store just a mile from our place at the lake. There was no such luck for a million plus wandering Hebrews.

The big reveal in today’s chapter is God’s supernatural provision for the needs of Moses and the entire population. It wasn’t fancy. It wasn’t varied. You’d have difficulty coming up with an entire season of cooking shows for the Food Network that cover all the ways to make Manna and quail interesting. Nevertheless, it provided what was essentially needed. What struck me most this morning was that there was no excess, and there was no shortage. There was exactly what was needed.

I couldn’t help but think of these words of Jesus as I mulled all of this over this morning:

“You can’t worship two gods at once. Loving one god, you’ll end up hating the other. Adoration of one feeds contempt for the other. You can’t worship God and Money both.

“If you decide for God, living a life of God-worship, it follows that you don’t fuss about what’s on the table at mealtimes or whether the clothes in your closet are in fashion. There is far more to your life than the food you put in your stomach, more to your outer appearance than the clothes you hang on your body. Look at the birds, free and unfettered, not tied down to a job description, careless in the care of God. And you count far more to him than birds.

“Has anyone by fussing in front of the mirror ever gotten taller by so much as an inch? All this time and money wasted on fashion—do you think it makes that much difference? Instead of looking at the fashions, walk out into the fields and look at the wildflowers. They never primp or shop, but have you ever seen color and design quite like it? The ten best-dressed men and women in the country look shabby alongside them.

“If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers—most of which are never even seen—don’t you think he’ll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I’m trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God’s giving. People who don’t know God and the way he works fuss over these things, but you know both God and how he works. Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.“

In the quiet this morning I find myself confessing that I never think about my needs because there has never been a day of my life journey that I couldn’t take for granted my basic needs would be met. This means that my entire life journey has been spent measuring the “quality” and “success” of life by the relative equation of my wants versus my acquisitions.

This differentiation is not trivial. I believe that it is essential to the conversation that we’re having about life in America and about life in our world. As a follower of Jesus, the differentiation is a critical piece of my spiritual journey. How can I be about God’s kingdom work in this world (e.g. “Your kingdom come and will be done on Earth”) if I am more focused on my own worldly kingdom than I am God’s?

As I head into another work week this morning I want to be mindful of the reality that my thoughts, concerns, and motivations are really not about my needs at all. Shelter, clothes, food, and water are mine in abundance, and if a tornado hit my house and destroyed it all I have a vast network of family and friends who would, in a heartbeat, provide me and Wendy with all we needed. My daily concerns are really about what I want, and with what I choose to be content.

And studying to be an actor taught me that what one “wants” is the key to understanding everything about that character’s words, actions, and relationships.

If you know anyone who might be encouraged by today’s post, please share.

Chapter-a-Day

Mysterious, Mystical, Gracious, and Favorable Flow

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Because the hand of the Lord my God was on me, I took courage and gathered leaders from Israel to go up with me.
Ezra 7:28b (NIV)

I caught a trailer for the movie Birth of the Cool the other day. Musicians talked of the recording session of one of the most iconic albums of all time: Kind of Blue by Miles Davis. The musicians were surprised when Miles had no score for them. He simply had “sketches” handwritten.

“We’re just going to play,” Miles told his band.

What happened in that studio, what flowed through those musicians as they “just played” changed the history of music.

I’m not fluent in the language of music, but I believe there is a parallel when it comes to other things in life. I have experienced “it” a couple of times on stage, and it is almost impossible to describe. The scene I’m playing becomes a separate reality. At that moment there is no audience. The present slips away. There is a sense of otherworldliness to it. I slip into another dimension. When it’s over, it feels like waking from a dream.

There is a similar experience I’ve had writing. Time stopped. The words flowed. They were not my words. They were flowing through me. The words were leaves falling from the “tree of tales,” as Tolkien described it. I just happen to be the conduit. I sat down at the keyboard to write. Suddenly I was on the lawn with two men sitting there in their lawn chairs. I was eavesdropping on their conversation; transcribing what they were saying. I have no idea how long I typed. I just wrote what I was hearing. When it was over I had thirty-five pages of dialogue.

I’ve never been much of an athlete, but I have heard those who are speak of “being in the zone.” Time changes. The ball slows down. You see things before they happen. Everything just flows.

In today’s chapter, Ezra mentions three times a similar flow in his life circumstances:

The king had granted him everything he asked, for the hand of the Lord his God was on him.

…he arrived in Jerusalem on the first day of the fifth month, for the gracious hand of his God was on him.

Because the hand of the Lord my God was on me, I took courage and gathered leaders from Israel to go up with me.

Favor. Zone. Flow. There is something mystical and mysterious to it, but I’ve experienced it. It is the Hand. It is favor. It is tangible grace. Things just happen and I am doing nothing to create it, cause it, or make it happen. I’m just the conduit.

In the quiet this morning I find myself reminded that we are made in the image of the Creator. When we ask, seek, and knock at the door of our birthright, we occasionally find the gracious, favorable flow.