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Chapter-a-Day

The Mystery

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Message in the Mystery (CaD Ezk 43) – Wayfarer

The glory of the Lord entered the temple through the gate facing east. Then the Spirit lifted me up and brought me into the inner court, and the glory of the Lord filled the temple.
Ezekiel 43 (NIV)

I love a good mystery. It’s always been one of my favorite genres of novels. Wendy and I love a good British mystery drama more than just about any other thing on television. Life is full of mystery, and from Genesis to Revelation the Great Story has plenty of its own mysteries and we’ve been reading about one of them the past few days as Ezekiel is given a vision and very detailed blueprints and instructions for its construction. But it’s never been made.

In today’s chapter, the vision and tour of the Temple is complete and Ezekiel sees the glory of the Lord arrive from the east through the East gate. This is significant because back in chapter 10, Ezekiel was shown a vision of God’s glory departing from Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem. So it would appear that Zeke is seeing a vision of the Temple that will replace Solomon’s Temple which had been reduced to rubble by the Babylonians.

But when the Hebrews returned to Jerusalem after the fall of the Babylonian Empire at the hands of the Persians, they faced the monumental task of rebuilding the walls of Jerusalem as well as rebuilding a Temple. Resources were few and the Second Temple began as a fairly modest structure. It would later be expanded and refurbished by Herod, but it was never built as Ezekiel described.

So why would God give Zeke this vision and instructions for a Temple that has never been built? It’s a mystery, and there are many theories across both the Jewish and Christian spectrums of thought.

Many Jews believe that Ezekiel’s Temple is the Third Temple that will be built in Jerusalem one day. The pesky problem there is that right now the Muslims control the Temple Mount where it should be constructed and the Al Aqsa mosque that stands there is a holy site for Muslims. If you’ve been watching the news lately you’ll be reminded that there’s not a lot of goodwill between the Muslims and the Jews, so I don’t think that’s going to happen any time soon. Nevertheless, a lot of work has been done (and money raised) to prepare for the Third Temple’s construction one day. You can find architectural design images online showing what it’s projected to look like.

For Christians, many believe that Zeke’s Temple will be built during the end times. Others believe that Zeke’s Temple was the plan but the Jewish people forfeited the opportunity for its construction by their disobedience and it will never be built. Still, others see it as a precursor vision to the same vision John sees of a New Jerusalem in the final two chapters of Revelation when there is a new heaven and a new earth.

So which is it? It’s a mystery. I can choose one of the theories that makes the most sense with my understanding of the prophecies of the end times and John’s Revelation but even that mystery is interpreted in a host of different ways.

Richard Rohr in his book The Divine Dance says that mystery isn’t something we can’t understand but something we can endlessly understand. There are messages for us in the mystery itself. As I’ve peeled back some of the layers of this envisioned Temple over the past few days I think that it’s fascinating how there is a thread that weaves itself through the entire story.

For me, one of the biggest spiritual lessons for me in Ezekiel’s vision is the hope. Ezekiel and his contemporary, Jeremiah, witnessed and experienced one of the darkest periods of history for the Hebrew people. They literally lost everything, and were taken into exile, their nation and their Temple (one of the fabled seven wonders of the ancient world). And what does one need most when you’re down and out and without hope? You need a vision that gives you hope for what could be. In this darkest of times, God is giving Zeke and his fellow Hebrews that vision.

It was in a letter to Zeke and his fellow Hebrews, suffering in the darkness of their despair in Babylon that God through Jeremiah said:

“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.

Those words weren’t given to bright, affluent high school graduates looking forward to their Freshman year in college. You’d think so given the number of cards and trinkets that have those words printed on them every May. And, while the promise is true for those bright high school graduates, it’s helpful to understand that those words were originally given to a people who had lost everything, had experienced terrible suffering we can’t even imagine, and were living in a foreign land in a hopeless situation. In the pit of their hopeless despair, God gives them a vision and hope.

As another person who suffered terribly, Corrie Ten Boom loved to say, “There is no pit so deep that God’s love and grace aren’t deeper still.”

I don’t know for certain if or when Ezekiel’s envisioned Temple will ever be constructed, but that is the message I find in the mystery.

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

Chapter-a-Day

Silent and Deadly

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Silent and Deadly (CaD Gal 5) – Wayfarer

Let us not become conceited, provoking and envying each other.
Galatians 5:26 (NIV)

There are mornings on this chapter-a-day journey when I experience synchronicity. Something in the chapter dovetails perfectly with something else that I’ve read, seen, or considered in the recent past. It happened this morning with regard to a commencement address published in the Free Press by Robert Parham, an Assistant Professor at the University of Virginia’s McIntire School of Commerce. Entitled, “To the Class of 2024: You are All Diseased,” it is well worth the few minutes it will take to read it in its entirety.

The following section, in particular, caught my attention:

You live in the wealthiest country in the history of the world, yet you feel economic anxiety. The late Charlie Munger summarized it succinctly: “The world is not driven by greed. It’s driven by envy.” And in this era of instantaneous communication networks and social media, envy has been put into hyperdrive.

But envy has also been transformed and rebranded. Once a deadly sin, it became a virtue. We call it “fairness” (or sometimes “equity”) now and concentrate our attention on all the ways the world is “unfair.” Mostly the ways that lead to others in our peer group having more than us.

The world is unfair. Deeply so. It’s just that you’re the lucky ones. You won the birth lottery.

In today’s chapter, envy makes the list of “works of the flesh” that stand in opposition to the “fruits of the Spirit” that should be increasingly evident in the lives of every follower of Jesus. Envy makes the list along with things like sexual immorality, orgies, witchcraft, and drunkenness. Along my life journey, I’ve observed that it’s much easier for the institutional church to hone in on the ugly, scandalous, and often public sins like being an addict, sexually immoral, or a member of the local Wiccan coven. Envy is a “pretty” sin that gets both overlooked and ignored. I don’t remember one lesson or sermon in 40 years that took a good look at how destructive envy can be to both our spiritual health and our very lives.

If you’ve had your head buried in the sand somewhere, it should be noted that we are living in a culture with epidemic mental health issues in children and young adults. Drug overdoses, suicides, anxiety, and depression have increased to epidemic proportions. Researcher Jonathan Haidt traces this epidemic back to the introduction of the iPhone with a front-facing camera and an app called Instagram. Suddenly, everyone is taking selfies and publicly sharing their lives with the masses hoping to get “likes,” comparing themselves to others, and wanting to become “influencers.” It’s all driven by envy. We don’t compare ourselves to the billions of human beings who would love to live in our affluent sneakers. We compare ourselves to those few who have more than us: more likes, more fame, more followers, more money, more fashionable clothes, more prestige, more influence, prettier homes, cuter kids, etc.

I think we’re overdue in giving envy the attention it deserves. It is destroying the spiritual and mental health of an entire generation. The institutional church is silent on the subject.

I confess to you that one of the reasons that this topic resonates so deeply within me is because I have always struggled with envy. I didn’t even realize it until I started to really dig into my own flaws and weaknesses as an adult. One of the things I recognized in myself was the fact that I would feel intense antipathy, even hatred, towards certain people. In most cases, it was people I didn’t even know personally. As I confessed this and began digging into why I had these intensely negative feelings towards people I didn’t even know (and were probably really nice people), I realized that underneath it was envy. I wanted to experience the fame, influence, popularity, and prosperity these individuals had experienced. It was silly. It was nonsense. I feel awkward even admitting it, but it’s the truth. I had to repent of my attitude and address the envy that had crept into my heart and brain, silently influencing me for years without me recognizing it.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself grateful for the abundant blessings I enjoy every moment of every day without even thinking about it or stopping to recognize how good I have it. I am reminded of the unhealthy ways envy affected my life without me even recognizing it. I am motivated to continue to reduce the influence that the “works of the flesh” had in my life and increase the “fruits of the Spirit” in my motivations, my thoughts, my words, and my actions.

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

Uncategorized

Opportunity in Interruption

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For two whole years Paul stayed [in Rome] in his own rented house and welcomed all who came to see him. He proclaimed the kingdom of God and taught about the Lord Jesus Christ—with all boldness and without hindrance!
Acts 28:30-31 (NIV)

Over the past few weeks, I’ve mentioned that our local gathering of Jesus’ followers has been talking about “interruptions.” Sometimes life interrupts us with unexpected tragedies, challenges, or obstacles. Sometimes God interrupts us like Saul on the road to Damascus. When interruptions happen, how do we react, respond, and cope?

Today’s chapter is the final chapter of Acts. Luke obviously brought it to a conclusion before Paul’s earthly journey was finished. The events and experiences Paul went through, even in today’s chapter, are a good reminder that life does not always turn out the way we want or expect. Paul is shipwrecked. A poisonous viper bites Paul and dangles from his outstretched hand before he shakes it off. The castaways find themselves spending three months on the island of Malta, which none of them had even heard of, and dependent on the kindness and hospitality of others. When Paul finally does get to Rome, he is literally chained to a Roman soldier day and night while under house arrest.

I spent some time meditating on how I would have reacted and responded to these circumstances: shipwreck, castaway, snake bite, house arrest, and chained to someone 24/7/365 for two years.

Luke ends with a rather positive proclamation regarding Paul’s attitude. He was welcoming, upbeat, bold, and optimistic. He used his chains as an opportunity to share the love of Jesus with his guards and to be an example through his words and actions as he welcomed guests and extended hospitality to everyone. Paul was able to see the golden opportunities in life’s interruptions, including his chains.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself thinking about life’s most recent interruption that surfaced this past Friday evening. It was one of those moments when what you’ve been planning and expecting to happen for years suddenly vanished with the receipt of one unexpected email. Life’s trajectory suddenly changes. I can react with anxiety and/or fear. I can brood about how unfair it is. I can even look for a scapegoat to blame for this interruption. Or, I can “trust the Lord with all my heart and lean not on my own understanding. In all my ways I can acknowledge Him knowing that He will make my path straight.” (Proverbs 3:5-6)

I have learned along life’s road that when interruptions occur, my immediate emotional reactions aren’t very healthy or productive. When my mind, will, and spirit work together to respond with faith, I have the opportunity to see God’s opportunities.

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

Chapter-a-Day

A Prescription for Anxiety

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A Prescription for Anxiety (CaD Php 4) – Wayfarer

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.
Philippians 4:6-7 (NIV)

According to the news, a record number of people are struggling with anxiety, especially teenagers and young adults. Teens are experiencing a mental health crisis. Wendy and I were talking about this recently as we read the latest statistics. We discussed how teens today face a daily paradox. Never have teenagers had so much information instantaneously at their finger tips, and at the same time our culture is telling them to question the most basic of truths. In addition, a teen today has to constantly monitor their words, thoughts, and opinions in school, in public, and on social media to avoid the threat of being socially attacked and cancelled. Add a couple of years of quarantine and isolation into the mix and there’s no wonder anxiety is rampant.

Philippians 4:6-7 were among the first verses I memorized when I was a teen. I would would quote it to myself all the time. I sometimes wrote the words on a piece of paper and stuck it in my pocket, so that whenever I reached into my pocket and felt the paper, I would be reminded of them. To this day, I have the words hanging on the wall inside my office.

One of the things I came to love about Paul’s words to the Philippians is that it doesn’t simply say “don’t be anxious.” Paul provides both a prescribed process and a promise as an antidote to anxiety.

First, Paul prescribes that I talk about my anxiety with God. I learned that I need to get things out. My favorite method of dealing with my deepest anxieties is to write my prayer as a letter to God. I pour my concerns, worries, and anxious thoughts onto the page. I hold nothing back. I plead for my needs and ask for the Spirit’s peace and protection over my mind and soul.

Next, I take up Paul’s reminder to be thankful no matter my circumstances. I am blessed in so many ways. I have so much for which to be thankful. Anxiety leads me to focus myopically on my troubles. The conscious act of counting my blessings and specifically being thankful for them gives me much needed perspective.

If and when I follow this prescription on a regular basis, I experience the promised peace. It causes me to shift-focus from my circumstantial anxieties to God’s sufficiency.

In the quiet this morning, I am thankful for these verses and how they have helped me navigate many, many times of anxiety on this life journey. I feel for young people today and the anxieties we as a society have produced for them. It saddens me that our go-to answer is always a medication. I am glad that I learned a prescription for anxiety as a teenager that cost nothing, didn’t require insurance, and had no negative side effects. All I had to do was faith-fully follow the prescription on a regular basis, and it began with me memorizing these words until they became a part of me:

Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.

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

Chapter-a-Day

Profane

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Profane (CaD Mal 1) – Wayfarer

“But you profane it by saying, ‘The Lord’s table is defiled,’ and, ‘Its food is contemptible.’”
Malachi 1:12 (NIV)

Having just finished the prophecies of Jeremiah and the events of Jerusalem’s destruction on this chapter-a-day journey, I’m going to travel in time 150 years to the future. I’m going to spend the next few days back in Jerusalem around 430 B.C.. Taking a quick view of the landscape, I notice the contrast to the rubble I left behind at the end of Jeremiah.

The walls of Jerusalem have been rebuilt. People are once again living inside the walls of the city. Many have returned to their homeland from exile in Babylon. It’s certainly not the splendor of Jerusalem in its glory years, but it’s home. There is a new Temple standing where Solomon’s Temple once stood. It, also, is not quite the same. Solomon’s Temple was one of the seven wonders of the ancient world. This Temple is, well, functional if not awe-inspiring.

Jerusalem and the surrounding area is now a back-water province of the Persian Empire. There is a Governor in charge. The new temple was finished some 85 years earlier. The walls completed some 30 years earlier. The rebuilding was a monumental task carried out and documented by Ezra (a priest) and Nehemiah (a governor). Exiles returned. The city is back on the map! What a comeback story! Ezra and Nehemiah charged the people to follow the law of Moses, to be faithful in worshipping of God as prescribed in the Law of Moses.

So, as I look around the streets and listen to people talking in the courts of the temple, why is everyone so depressed, so cynical, so…negative?

Enter the prophet Malachi. He is the last of the ancient Hebrew prophets. His four chapters close the door on the period formally known as the Old Testament. After Malachi there will be four hundred years of political upheaval and prophetic silence until we hear the cries of a newborn baby, wrapped in swaddling clothes, and lying in a manger.

Back to the temple courts around 430 B.C. Life is, more-or-less, working. The word functional keeps coming to mind, but not flourishing.

The design God gave the Hebrew people through Moses was an entire system designed to perpetuate life, health, and blessing throughout the entire community and beyond. The temple would be the center of the community. People would honor God, bring their first-fruit offerings and unblemished sacrifices to the temple. The priests and temple workers were provided for through these tithes and offerings and, in turn, blessed and served the people. When everyone puts their heart into it, it works relatively well.

Therein lies the problem.

Witness the people bringing a meager offering to the temple, certainly not the ten percent tithe the law requires. They also bring grain and animals for sacrifice, but that lamb is certainly not the shepherds best. The thing is half-staved and looks to be diseased. The priests go through the motions of accepting the sacrifice, but they certainly don’t want to feed themselves and their family with this farmer’s harvest dregs and diseased, meager livestock.

The system isn’t working. Everyone is going through the motions, but no one’s heart is in it. They hear the promises of Jeremiah and Isaiah of a blessed and abundant restoration under a glorious messiah, but that’s not what they’ve experienced. They’ve lost the faith. They’ve lost hope.

In God’s opening message through Malachi, God addresses the people’s cynical, defensive, and defiant attitudes.

“But you ask, ‘How have you loved us?'” (vs. 2)
“But you ask, ‘How have we showed contempt?'” (vs. 6)
“But you ask, ‘How have we defiled you?'” (vs. 7)

God through Malachi goes on to tell the people that what they are doing amounts to “profanity” (vs. 12). To modern readers, “profanity” is synonymous with saying naughty words. But the concept of profanity is much deeper and is differentiated from obscenity or vulgarity. Profanity is when I empty something of its original meaning. If I take my family’s precious and priceless fine china and antique silver spoons and use them to feed a stray dog on the back patio, I’m profaning it. If I take the name of Jesus, who I have chosen to make my Lord and believe to be the King of Kings and Lord of Lords, and believe that someday it will be at that name that every knee will bow and every tongue confess that He is Lord, and I use his name as a common expletive when I’m pissed off at somebody or something, I’m profaning that name.

In the quiet this morning, I enter the time machine once again and fast forward to present day. I’m in a church building watching people walking in and out on a Sunday morning. I watch myself (welcome to the multi-verse!) entering and leaving worship. I compare myself in worship to my daily life, words, actions, relationships, and attitudes during the week. Is my heart and soul in it? Or, am I just going through the motions? Am I bringing my best to God, or just the leftovers of my time, energy, and resources? You know, the minimum required by my conscience to be free of any guilt and shame?

Does my daily life profane the very faith I profess to believe?

As God says through Malachi in today’s chapter: “I’d rather you just the shut the doors and not even pretend, than simply go through the motions because that’s profane.

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

Chapter-a-Day

Under Siege

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Under Siege (CaD Jer 38) – Wayfarer

So they took Jeremiah and put him into the cistern of Malkijah, the king’s son, which was in the courtyard of the guard. They lowered Jeremiah by ropes into the cistern; it had no water in it, only mud, and Jeremiah sank down into the mud.
Jeremiah 38:6 (NIV)

Being the victim of a siege exacts a huge toll on a person. Even in modern conflicts like the current war in Ukraine, the devastating effects of long-term isolation, starvation, anxiety, fear, and boredom are well-documented. Janine di Giovanni, author and senior fellow at the Yale Jackson Institute for Global Affairs wrote of the siege of Aleppo, “Sieges destroy the body, but… what’s far more damaging is the annihilation of the soul.”

It starts with shock and disorientation, followed by depression and increased rates of suicide. As a siege drags on, apathy and alcoholism are common and eventually give way to breakdown of social structures.

Today’s chapter has all the signs that the Babylonians’ 30 month siege of Jerusalem had exacted the desired toll on the residents inside. Depressed and bored, four young men get tired of Jeremiah’s constant proclamations of death and destruction. They petition King Zedekiah to let them kill Jeremiah. The king apathetically grants their wish. Inside the court of the guard where Jeremiah is confined there is a deep water cistern. Because of the siege, it’s empty. All the water has been consumed leaving nothing but muddy sediment at the bottom. Jeremiah is thrown in and he sinks into the mud.

Fortunately for Jeremiah, he has at least one friend left. A young African eunuch serving the King hears of Jeremiah’s plight and petitions King Z to let him rescue the prophet. The apathetic King Z grants the petition, telling the eunuch to take 30 guards with him (presumably as protection against the men who wanted to kill Jeremiah in the first place).

After Jeremiah is rescued, King Z summons Jeremiah. It would appear that Z realizes that Jeremiah’s prophetic messages were true and he wants to know the truth of what will happen to him. In a private heart-to-heart, Z shares his fears with the prophet. Jeremiah tells the king to surrender. The king, realizing that there are still those who want Jeremiah dead, instructs the prophet what to say if he’s confronted and questioned.

In the quiet this morning, I couldn’t help but think about what it must have been like for Jeremiah to witness all that he had prophesied coming true. He had been proclaiming this fate for decades, and now he is suffering that same fate along with those who refused to listen and railed against him the entire time. He suffered rebuke, rejection, and retribution before the siege, now he is suffering the effects of the siege along with those who never believed him. Sometimes, it sucks to be right.

Once again, I am struck by my human need for a prophet in my life. King Z has never been a friend to Jeremiah, but as events close in on their climactic end, he realizes that the prophet is perhaps the only one he can trust to speak the truth to him. There are moments along life’s road when life feels like I am being besieged on all sides by circumstances I don’t control. It comes with this earthly journey through a fallen world, and it can exact a tremendous toll.

That is the truth. And, it’s in those moments I need a friend who is a prophet.

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

Wayfarer's Journal

Dealt a Bad Hand

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Dealt a Bad Hand (CaD Ruth 1) – Wayfarer

“Don’t call me Naomi,” she told them. “Call me Mara, because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me.”
Ruth 1:20-21 (NIV)

Along my journey, I’ve known many people who I would describe as having been dealt a bad hand in this life. I have experienced multipole stretches of the journey in which I felt I was dealt a bad hand. There are unexpected tragedies, unforeseen illnesses, and circumstances that come out of left field. As I ponder things, I feel as if the entire world got dealt a bad hand the past year-and-a-half. It’s one of the realities of this earthly journey. Despite all the wonderful promises of name-it-and-claim-it televangelists, the Sage of Ecclesiastes reminds us of a hard reality: in this life there are times and seasons when things like death, war, tearing, weeping, searching, relational distance, mourning, and hate are our experience. In every time and season, we have to play the hand we’re dealt.

Today we begin the short story of Ruth, one of only two books of Great Story named after women. Ruth is one of a select handful of women mentioned in the genealogy of Jesus, so her story is a meaningful chapter in the Great Story. It is set in the dark period of time known as the time of the Judges. The story begins with a woman, Naomi, to whom God deals and incredibly bad hand.

There is a famine in the land, and Naomi’s husband leads her and her sons to the foreign land of Moab in a search to find food. At first, it appears that they’re playing their cards right. They settle in, have food, and even find Moabite wives for their sons. There was nothing illegal with Hebrew men marrying Moabite women, though it will certainly raise some orthodox, prejudicial eyebrows if and when they should return home to the little town of Bethlehem (yep, that Bethlehem).

Then there’s a change in seasons, just like the Sage reminds us. Naomi’s husband dies. Then both of her sons die. For a woman in the dark age of the Judges, this was the worst hand God could deal her. Widows had no status, no viable means of income, and there was no social structure to provide for their needs. Naomi’s situation is essentially hopeless.

Naomi recognizes that the situation for her daughters-in-law is not as dire. They are young, beautiful, and have child-bearing years ahead of them. She urges them to “fold” their hand, stay in Moab, and trust that their local Moabite god will deal them a new and better hand. One takes her up on the offer, but Ruth chooses to ante up, stick with Naomi, stick with Naomi’s God, and see this hand through. On the surface, this is a bad decision. Being a Moabite widow in Bethlehem and expecting a positive result is about the longest odds one could imagine in the context of the times.

Sure enough, widow Naomi’s return to Bethlehem with her foreign, widowed daughter-in-law, has the two buzzing with gossip. Naomi sums up her situation by asking people to call her by a different name:

“Don’t call me Naomi,” she told them. “Call me Mara (which means “bitter”), because the Almighty has made my life very bitter. I went away full, but the Lord has brought me back empty. Why call me Naomi? The Lord has afflicted me; the Almighty has brought misfortune upon me.”

Bitter. What a great word for those times when I suddenly find myself playing a bad hand in life. Bitter at God. Bitter with the situation. Bitter that others seem to have it easier than me. Bitter that all the televangelist’s prophesies of my prosperity and the self-help guru’s promises of my success turn out to be null and void. Bitter that God dealt me this hand when He could have dealt me something different.

In the quiet this morning, I feel for Naomi, I mean Mara the Queen of bitter. I find myself recalling some of my top-ten bitter moments of this life journey even as I admit not one of them was nearly as dire or life-threatening as Naomi and Ruth. At the same time, I’m reminded that the Great Story is ultimately a redemption story that is layered with redemption stories. The way stories work, you can’t experience redemption without first experiencing the bitter. The bitter hand is the pre-requisite of redemption. I don’t experience the latter without the former.

It’s one of the lessons I’ve learned along this journey of following Jesus. When dealt a bad hand, never fold, because that assures perpetual bitterness. Playing out my hand is the only path to redemption, even against the longest of odds.

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

Chapter-a-Day

Holy Moment

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Holy Moment (CaD Psalm 145.2) – Wayfarer

[Note: I know I did Psalm 145 yesterday, but it became obvious to me this morning that I needed to spend some more time in it. So, consider this a blogging BOGO from me to you! :-)]

The eyes of all look to you,
    and you give them their food at the proper time.
Psalm 145:15 (NIV)

He was weeping over the phone. Across the miles, on the other end of the connection, I knew that this moment was qadosh, a holy moment. It was holy, not because of any kind of religious piety or righteous achievement, but because of the depth of its suffering.

Along my life journey I’ve observed that religion has done a number on our concept of holiness. The institutional church has, as it always does, warped holiness into some kind of religious merit badge, a litmus test of morality, a trophy for those religious over-achievers at the top of the Sunday School class. In doing so, religion profanes the fullness of holiness.

Holiness is woven into creation unbound by church membership or religious ritual. Holiness is an encounter with the divine in the human experience. Holiness is not limited to the transcendental, spiritual glory of Jesus’ transfiguration. The emotional, physical, mental, and spiritual agony of his unjust, illegal, blood-drenched execution was a holy moment, as well.

That’s how I recognized the holy moment as my friend wept from the darkness of his own personal pit. He was joining the ranks of many who have gone before him. He was the woman kneeling naked and ashamed in front of the Son of God as her adultery lay publicly exposed. He was the prodigal covered in pig shit and eating the slop of his own choices. He was the wanton woman knelt down before Jesus as her tears wash the feet of the One she fully expects to condemn him like everyone else is in his life seems to be doing. He was me, 20 years ago, as I wept alone in the darkness of a warehouse apartment crying out over the shattered pieces of my life.

I knew this was a holy moment because I had been there myself. This was a holy moment because every human and religious pretense had been stripped away. He was, in that moment, spiritually naked and empty. He had reached a point when he could no longer play the game. This was his breaking point before the One who redeems, recreates, and uses broken things; The Potter who takes the lump of collapsed clay spinning on His wheel and begins to make something new. Whether my friend recognized it, or not, this was the waypoint on his journey that is the inflection point when old things begin to recede in the rearview mirror, and he will find a light on the horizon leading him in a new direction.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 145, begins the last five songs in this 150 song anthology of ancient Hebrew song lyrics. The editors end their compilation with five songs of praise. Today’s is a beautiful description of God’s goodness and I could have picked out any number of verses to chew on, but it was the phrase “you give them their food at the proper time” that resonated deep in my soul.

Remember that God’s base language is metaphor, and metaphors are layered with meaning. Make no mistake, food is food, as in the miraculous Manna that God provided the Hebrew tribes on their wilderness wanderings and the loaves and fish Jesus turned into an all-you-can-eat, filet-o-fish-o-rama. It’s also that which is necessary for spiritual survival and sustenance, as Jesus reminded the Enemy after fasting for forty days: “You can’t just eat physical bread. You need the spiritual bread of the Word.”

From there the metaphor expands to even more layers of meaning:

“In the beginning was the Word…”

“I am the Bread of Life…”

“He took a loaf and broke it, saying, ‘This is my body, broken for you.'”

“I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.”

Along my spiritual journey, I’ve experienced God’s provision of “food” at the “proper time” on both the physical and spiritual level. I remember being married with two small children, my first mortgage, no job, and no idea what was going to happen next. There have been moments when clients unexpectedly pulled the plug on projects, and I wasn’t sure how we would pay the bills. Then there was that lonely night in the dark warehouse apartment when every religious facade I had mistaken for being an actual spiritual resource had been revealed to be impotent, and my soul was starving for a scrap of real spiritual nourishment.

I had religiously participated in the ritual of Communion countless times in my life, yet that moment was the first time I truly tasted the Bread of Life. It was a holy moment. It was qadosh.

In the quiet this morning, I’m praying for my friend who was on the other end of that call. He’s got a long, long road ahead of him. I did my best to assure him that if he relies on the Bread of Life to sustain him, and he doggedly presses on, one-day-at-a-time, towards that Light on the horizon, he will find himself in amazing places. He may find himself in a deep place, but grace is deeper still. He may despair in the moment at the waste he’d made of his life, but God may transform it into wisdom.

I’ve been there.

In the moment all he could see was the unholy ruins of his life.

Little did he know, it was the holy start of a new creation.

He who was seated on the throne said, “I am making everything new!” Then he said, “Write this down, for these words are trustworthy and true.”
Revelation 21:5 (NIV)

As always, if you know anyone who might be encouraged with today’s post, please feel free to share.

Chapter-a-Day

Brooding

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Brooding (CaD Ps 116) – Wayfarer

Return to your rest, my soul,
    for the Lord has been good to you.
Psalm 116:7 (NIV)

I have always been a world-class brooder. It comes in tandem with the pessimism that marks those of us who are romantic individualists known as Enneagram Fours. If there is a major relational conflict or some kind of crisis in life, I will tend to brood on it.

Brood is actually an interesting word because the most common definition in the English language means “to sit on” and “incubate” as a mother hen sits on her eggs. What an apt word picture for what I can do with a conflict or crisis. I mentally and emotionally sit on it, keep it warm, keep incubating as I stir it in my soul over and over and over again. I may look like I’m perfectly normal on the outside, but inside I’m a boiling cauldron of angst, fear, negativity, and insecurity.

Along my life journey, I’ve gotten a lot better at recognizing when I’m going into brood mode and when I find myself there. As a young man, I know I spent long periods of time in brood mode never knew I was doing it. To the world around me, I appeared to be functioning normally, but I was actually mentally and emotionally disconnected for long periods of time. This is when having an Enneagram Eight as a spouse is really helpful. Wendy is quick to see me go into my brooding mode, and she’s quick to address it.

Having said that, I’ve also learned that I am an internal processor who has also, along my life journey, developed decent communication skills. This means that I can typically talk through what I am thinking and feeling with others, but not before I’ve taken some time to process it alone. I believe Wendy has done a great job of recognizing that there is a difference between me processing something internally and giving me time to do so, and me silently disconnecting and descending into my brooding pit where I might not surface for a while.

Brooding is like mental, emotional, and spiritual spelunking (those crazy people who descend into and explore caves). A wise spelunker always has a safety line that is attached to a strong ground anchor above. Along the way, I’ve also learned that I need spiritual, mental, and emotional “anchors” with which to pull myself out of my brooding pit.

That’s what came to mind this morning as I read today’s chapter and came upon the verse I quoted at the top of the post:

Return to your rest, my soul,
    for the Lord has been good to you.

When I descend too far into brood-mode I have allowed myself to go into a mental space that is not healthy. I have learned that one of the best anchored life-lines I have is my spiritual journey and my life journey. I can look back on that journey and recall several stretches of stress and crisis which were brooding bonanzas. In each one I can recount how faithful God was to me, how things worked out despite the difficulties, and how God used those moments to bring about growth, new levels of maturity, increased faith, and spiritual fruit. By recounting these both the crises and the progress it afforded in my spiritual journey, it helps me put my current crisis in perspective, to trust God’s faithfulness, and to left faith help lift me out of brood-mode.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself grateful for the waypoint I find myself in this life journey. I’m thankful for the things I’ve learned about myself, my loved ones, and how differently we engage in the world around us and in relationships with one another.

Socrates famously said, “the unexamined life is not worth living.” This morning, Socrates has himself a witness. Were it not for my spiritual journey as a follower of Jesus, I’d have gotten stuck in a brooding pit years ago and might never have made it out.

(Did I mention Enneagram Fours have a flair for the dramatic? 😉

Chapter-a-Day

Dark Places

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Dark Places (CaD Ps 88) – Wayfarer

For my soul is full of troubles,
    and my life draws near to Sheol.
Psalm 88:3 (NRSVCE)

I found it ironic this morning that in the very midst of the holiday season my chapter-a-day journey would bring me to perhaps the darkest song we will encounter in this anthology of ancient Hebrew song lyrics. As we reach the end of 2020, mental health experts have warned that social isolation, fear, anxiety, and depression created by the pandemic will have long-term effects. Just a few weeks ago it was reported that San Francisco has had more deaths by drug overdose in 2020 than Covid deaths. It is clear that many people are finding themselves in dark places mentally, emotionally, and spiritually right now.

One of the things that I’ve come to appreciate about the Great Story is that it doesn’t gloss over the darkness that is experienced on this earthly journey. In fact, what I have found in the 40 years that I’ve been studying it is that suffering is consistently presented as an essential ingredient in spiritual development, formation, and maturity. I’m reminded of our landscaper telling Wendy and me not to be too generous in giving water to our newly planted trees and shrubs. “They need to suffer a little bit,” he said, “even if it looks like they’re struggling you want to force them to push their roots deep into the soil. It will ultimately make them stronger and healthier.”

The liner notes of Psalm 88 attribute the lyrics to Heman the Ezrahite, who was well-known as a Hebrew sage in the days of Solomon. If the song is at all biographical, then Heman had a rough life. There is no uplifting statement of faith or hopeful assurance like those found in the darkest of King David’s songs. There is darkness, the pit of despair, the loneliness of being a social outcast, and the ever-nearness of death. If you’re an angst-filled teenager or a melancholy Enneagram Type Four, then you’ll love wallowing in the gloom as Heman pens “the Darkness is my closest friend.” It is part of the human experience to attribute life’s difficulties with divine wrath, retribution, or judgment.

It’s easy to overlook, however, that the lyrics quite purposefully state that the person is still praying morning (vs. 13), noon (vs. 9), and night (vs. 1). He is struggling through the darkness, blaming his troubles on the God to whom he continues to cry out, to pray, and to seek. As I meditated on this fact, God’s Spirit brought two other passages to mind:

Is there anyplace I can go to avoid your Spirit?
    to be out of your sight?
If I climb to the sky, you’re there!
    If I go underground, you’re there!
If I flew on morning’s wings
    to the far western horizon,
You’d find me in a minute—
    you’re already there waiting!
Then I said to myself, “Oh, he even sees me in the dark!
    At night I’m immersed in the light!”
It’s a fact: darkness isn’t dark to you;
    night and day, darkness and light, they’re all the same to you.
Psalm 139:7-12 (MSG)

For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord.
Romans 8:38-39 (NIV)

In the quiet this morning I find myself reflecting on the difficulties we’ve all experienced in 2020. On this life journey, I’ve observed that every person treks through dark places when the last thing I want to hear is a cheery “Buck up little camper” or some over-spiritualized encouragement. As an Enneagram Four, I’m given to wallowing in the melancholy. In my own life journey, like Heman the Hebrew Sage, I’ve found myself in those stretches just continuing to press on in seeking, stretching, crying out morning, noon, and night.

Jesus told His followers that He was “the vine” and His Father was “the gardener.” From my current waypoint on life’s road, I can look back and see how in the darkest stretches of my life journey the Gardner was present, watching over me, pruning, and prodding: “Keep thirsting. Dig those roots deep into the soil. That’s where you’ll find Living Water.”