Tag Archives: Holiness

Maturing Takes Time

“Say to the Israelites: ‘Any man or woman who wrongs another in any way and so is unfaithful to the Lord is guilty and must confess the sin they have committed.’”
Numbers 6:6-7 (NIV)

About a month ago, our grandson Milo attended worship with us among our local gathering of Jesus’ followers. Milo is seven and is an explosive bundle of unbridled, kinetic, little-boy energy. Underneath the exterior of all that normal physical energy lies one of the softest, most genuinely open hearts I’ve ever experienced in a boy his age. He asks big questions. He thinks big thoughts. He feels big feels. And, he has a passionate curiosity about God.

What was fascinating to watch that morning was the mixture of both. He was, at once, a squirrelly little boy who at times needed discipline and a sweet little boy who was genuinely trying to understand and interact with the divine. He was so eager to go up for the bread and cup that Yaya had to hold him back multiple times while it was still being prepared.

He is a boy. He is maturing. It takes time.

Today’s chapter is one of those chapters with which casual modern readers struggle. It has to do with purity and fidelity, but it is easy for the surface of the text to produce intense negative reactions. At the heart of it, God is repeating what He has already established in the priestly instruction manual, Leviticus. If God, who has delivered them from slavery, is going to live in the midst of the Hebrews, if He is going to travel with them through the wilderness and lead them to the Promised Land, then there are going to be some ground rules. He is a holy God and they have to learn to be clean from the outside in. That means dealing with their bodies, their relationships, their emotions, and their consciences.

Specifically, what God deals with in today’s chapter is:

Skin diseases (physical issues on the outside)
Interpersonal conflicts (issues within the community)
Marital infidelity (issues within the marriage covenant)
Jealousy (intense negative emotions that may cause unjust harm)
Guilt and honesty (being spiritually honest with God and self)

The example given for the last three is man who feels jealous and believes his wife has been unfaithful. He has no proof and she is adamant about her fidelity. He is to bring her to the priest. The priest is to bring her before the Lord. A test is rendered to determine if she is being honest, in which case she is cleared – or if she is lying, in which case she is potentially cursed.

By modern standards it seems harsh and politically incorrect. For human civilization in the ancient near east, this was a radical, revolutionary, giant leap of social development. In that day, and that culture, a man would typically just follow his jealousy into violence against both his wife and the man he suspected she slept with. There would be no accountability and no civil recourse. There was no law. In most small people groups there was no developed or official justice system. It was a king-of-the-mountain free-for-all in which the powerful beat, clawed, and killed their way to the top. Those who were weak simply tried to survive the powerful doing whatever they wanted however they wanted because no one would stop them.

Now Yahweh, the miraculous God who freed these weak, just surviving Hebrews from slavery to the king-of-the-mountain Egyptian empire, is telling them “You must do things differently.” He is a holy God. He demands people to be clean outside-in.

But they’re not.

They have physical ailments they can’t control.
They have conflicts and misunderstandings.
They have intense negative emotions that lead to conflicts.
They are at times not honest with themselves or others.

In each case, God provides a process for addressing each of these.

This is a human civilization in the toddler stage of development. They throw tantrums. They can’t control their emotions, and they are constantly acting out of their sheer emotion. They aren’t educated, can’t write, can’t read, and have been slaves for generations.

Father God is doing what good parents do with toddlers. He is teaching them one step at a time.

“Let’s wash your hands.”
“Give her back her ball. It’s hers, not yours.”
“Now, say you’re sorry and give her a hug.”
“Did he really hit you? I didn’t see anything.”
“Are you lying to me?”

In other words, like Milo trying to understand why he can’t just run up in his excitement and grab the bread and cup, this fledgling group of humans is slowly maturing.

It takes time.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself meditating on the reality that human civilization has matured over thousands of years. We are more educated and more developed than any generation in the history of human civilization. Yet, with all we’ve learned…

We have physical ailments and tragedies we can’t control.
We have conflicts and misunderstandings.
We have intense negative emotions that lead to those conflicts.
We are at times not honest with ourselves or others.

Lord, have mercy.

Obviously, there’s something broken we can’t fix ourselves.

And, Father God is still holy. He still demands we be clean outside in.

So, He sacrificially made a way for that to happen. It’s a gift.

I just have to receive it.

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

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Seriously

Seriously (CaD Lev 10) Wayfarer

Aaron’s sons Nadab and Abihu took their censers, put fire in them and added incense; and they offered unauthorized fire before the Lord, contrary to his command. So fire came out from the presence of the Lord and consumed them, and they died before the Lord.
Leviticus 10:1-2 (NIV)

Our daughters are very different individuals. When they were young, Taylor was always dutiful, sweet and soft-hearted. If she was caught being naughty, all it took was my “dad look” to reduce her to tears. Madison was entirely a different matter.

One day I was headed out to run an errand and I heard Taylor screaming in the back yard. I investigated and found Madison hitting her big sister in the head with a whiffle-ball bat. With righteous paternal anger, I yelled and scooped Madison up in my arms. I decided to throw her in her car seat and take her with me on my errand so I could have a serious talk with my little one about assault and battery with a deadly weapon.

“Madison?! You NEVER hit people with something like a baseball bat! It’s dangerous and you can seriously hurt people!” I yelled as I looked at her in her car seat from the rear view mirror.

“How do you know?” the she replied casually from her car seat.

“Because it’s happened, Madison! People have been hit with baseball bats and have ended up in the hospital. Some people have even DIED!”

“But, daddy, how do you know?” she asked again, seemingly unfazed by my obvious anger and raised voice.

“Because it was in the NEWS! Someone got hit in the head and died and they reported it in the NEWS!” I screamed, my temper reaching DEFCON FIVE.

There was a long pause. Perhaps I finally got through to her.

“Daddy?” came the sweet voice from the back seat.

“WHAT?!” I yelled.

“Grandma says you can’t always believe what they say on the news.”

Sometimes, it is lost on children just how serious a matter can be.

In yesterday’s chapter, Aaron and his sons began their new lives as priests. Aaron offered God’s prescribed offerings for the firsts time, followed the instructions obediently, and the glory of the LORD appeared.

Today’s chapter tells a very different story. Two of Aaron’s sons fail to make the mental and spiritual transition from dudes to priests. The bros aren’t taking all this priestly stuff seriously. They start screwing around with the fire and incense in God’s tent temple. Fire from God’s presence consumed them and they died.

Sometimes, it is lost on children just how serious a matter can be.

The death of Nadab and Abihu is tragic, as are a lot of deaths that result when people don’t take mortal (and immortal) dangers seriously. For the Hebrews, this event right on the heels of Aaron’s obedience actions provide a sobering lesson. God is not playing games. When He said that He is setting before them life and death, and wants them to choose life, He wasn’t kidding. I imagine that Aarons remaining sons suddenly took their new jobs a little more seriously.

In the quiet this morning, I couldn’t help but think of a similar event in the early days of the Jesus Movement in the book of Acts. A couple named Ananias and Sapphira conspire to lie to Peter and the church about a financial matter for their personal profit. When their greedy deceit is brought to light, the couple fell dead. That incident, along with Nadab and Abihu’s tragic deaths are isolated incidents a thousand years apart from one another, but they both serve as a reminders that perhaps I should take God seriously.

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!

Across the Divide

Across the Divide (CaD Lev 8) Wayfarer

“You must stay at the entrance to the tent of meeting day and night for seven days and do what the Lord requires, so you will not die; for that is what I have been commanded.”
Leviticus 8:35 (NIV)

Throughout the Great Story, there is a clear separation established between the kingdoms of this world and our earthly realities, and the Kingdom of God which exists in a different realm, a heavenly realm, a realm of Spirit. Dotted through the Great Story are experiences in which the divide between these two realms is breached. Angelic visits are a great example. Individuals like Isaiah, Ezekiel, and John being given a glimpse of God’s throne room are another. Typically, when humans experience these breaches of the spiritual divide, the human being is reported to be scared to death.

In his exploration of Near Death Experiences (NDEs) in the book Imagine Heaven, John Burke reports what people who have physically died, experienced the other side, and were sent back describe of their experiences. He found that most described it as more real than anything in this earthly existence. Those who’ve experienced say that this earthly life is a shadow world compared to that world.

As I have considered these accounts and descriptions, I have begun, I believe, to understand holiness in a deeper way. Holiness always seemed to me to be defined as some kind of super-powered moral perfection, but the further I get in my spiritual journey, the more I realize that’s not it. The divine reality of God’s presence on the other side of the divide is overwhelming and indescribable Light, Love, Life color, beauty, wholeness, knowledge, and infinity. That’s holy.

What we experience daily on this earthly journey in a realm of sin and death is not holy. Throughout the Great Story, God is trying to reveal the glory of His Kingdom to me, allow me to choose into that Kingdom by faith, and to live my earthly life in this world of sin and death according to the principles of a Kingdom that is not of this world.

Today’s chapter is a major transformation for Aaron and his sons. Yesterday, they were just normal Hebrew dudes like every other Hebrew dude. After the events of today’s chapter and a week of camping out at the entrance to God’s tent temple, they are priests. They have a uniform, a detailed instruction manual, and they’ve been ceremonially cleansed and purified for the role of being priests for the Hebrew people with all the responsibilities that go along with it. Welcome to a whole new reality.

As I meditated on the chapter in the quiet this morning. I pondered what God is doing with these ancient Hebrews in the toddler stages of human development in history. Just the other day our granddaughter Sylvie was with us. She’s at the stage in which she’s having to learn that there are things of Papa and Yaya’s that are special. They aren’t toys to be mindlessly and carelessly played with or discarded. God is doing the same thing with the Hebrews. He’s giving them an earthly sense of a spiritual Life and death realities of God’s Kingdom. The heavenly and the earthly. The holy and the ordinary. The sacred and the profane. These are things they can hardly fathom in the same way Sylvie can hardly fathom why that fragile family heirloom she just grabbed off the table is holy in Papa and Yaya’s kingdom.

In the quiet this morning, I find myself reflecting back on the kids and grandkids visit for a few hours on Sunday. There were colorful light saber fights, playing make believe, running in circles, wrestling on the bed, video games, intense energy, laughter, love, cuddles, sharing challenges, celebration of goodness, food, drink, and did I mention love? Yes, there was a lot of love. It was holy. At least it was a taste, a hint of that ultimate reality on the other side of the divide. How might I reflect and infuse my day with a little of that holiness for those around me?

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!

Sharks and Leviathans

Sharks and Leviathans (CaD Job 41) Wayfarer

Who has a claim against me that I must pay?
    Everything under heaven belongs to me.

Job 41:11 (NIV)

Wendy and I have a little library of children’s books that resides just past the entrance of our home in a corner of the living room. It’s there for grandchildren and wee friends who come over for a visit. Among some of our favorites, there are also a couple of picture books with an exhaustive number of different creatures, critters, and creepy-crawlers from the animal kingdom.

Milo quickly learned that Ya-Ya (Grandma Wendy) has this thing with sharks. She doesn’t like them. Sharks produce a fear in Wendy that she’ll admit is slightly irrational. She doesn’t even want to see pictures of them.

So, of course, Milo always wants to read the creatures book and make Ya-Ya look at sharks.

God’s final discourse to Job ends with two poems that are somewhat mysterious. Each describes a mighty creature. The first describes a Behemoth and the other a Leviathan. The words are transliterations of the original Hebrew words because the exact identification of the animal or creature being described has been lost. Thus, the mystery. Both the Behemoth and Leviathan are mentioned multiple times in other biblical texts.

Scholars over the years have suggested that Behemoth’s description as an amazingly strong, dangerous, semi-aquatic, herbivore might suggest it is a hippopotamus. Hippos are often mistaken as docile creatures. Hippo attacks account for the deaths of about 500 people each year.

Leviathan is a bit different story because while some scholars suggest that it could refer to a crocodile. If that is true, then the description is hyperbolic and exaggerated. It’s certainly possible that hyperbole was a literary device in the ancient Hebrew poem.

As I read the Leviathan poem in the quiet this morning, it appeared to me to describe your standard dragon. Other scholars agree and suggest that Leviathan is a variation on a mythological creature from ancient Canaan called Lôtan. Lôtan was a seven-headed dragon who mythologically symbolized almost invincible power that stands in opposition to God. This caught my eye as I read about it this morning because our local gathering of Jesus’ followers is studying the book of Revelation which describes an enormous red dragon with seven heads (Rev 12:3).

No matter what the mysterious Behemoth and Leviathan are, the point that God is making is perfectly clear. Each represents an untamed, dangerous creature that would immediately strike fear in Job. It’s kind of like young Milo showing Ya-Ya pictures of sharks. God is in essence saying, “If you’re afraid of confronting a Behemoth or a Leviathan, how much more afraid should you be of the Creator who made them? Isn’t the Creator far greater in power and danger than either of them?”

Which, in the quiet this morning, has me thinking once again about that which is holy. When Jesus took Peter, James, and John with him up on the mountain and they saw Him transfigured into blinding, glorious light before their eyes while the voice of God thundered. Matthew writes that the three disciples “fell facedown to the ground, terrified.”

I think about the three disciples who enjoyed an intimate, human relationship with Jesus. They laughed with Him, ate meals with Him, and told stories around the campfire at night. They enjoyed familiar friendship and companionship with Him. When they experienced His unveiled power and glory on the mountain, they got a dose of his holiness and they hit the ground face down.

God is reminding Job of His holiness, and it’s a good reminder for me. I have experienced a relationship with Jesus full of grace, love, and forgiveness. But I should always be mindful that Jesus love and grace does not diminish His holiness, and neither should I.

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

Holy Moment

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.


Holy Moments in the Dark

Holy Moments in Dark Places (CaD Ps 106) Wayfarer

Save us, Lord our God,
    and gather us from the nations,
that we may give thanks to your holy name
    and glory in your praise.

Psalm 106:47 (NIV)

Yesterday, Wendy and I found ourselves discussing the concept of holiness as we enjoyed our weekly date at the local pub for pizza and a pint. It kind of picked up on what I discussed in my blog post a few weeks ago. In my experience, the concept of being “holy” has largely been reduced by the institutional church to mean “morally pure.” In my spiritual journey, I’ve come to understand that it means so much more than that.

Our conversation sprung out a friend sharing with us about a loved one who finds themselves in one of life’s dark valleys. Wendy and I both identified with the story because both of our journeys include stretches in dark places of our own choices and consequences. Much like our friend’s loved one, the respective dark valleys on life’s road were not characterized by any kind of moral purity.

Go to any twelve-step meeting and you’ll hear people tell their own stories about dark valleys on life’s road. You’ll also hear them share that sometimes one must hit rock-bottom before they spiritually wake up to the consequences of their actions and their need to change.

In Jesus’ famous story of the Prodigal Son, the younger brother finds himself far from home, broke, alone, and literally wading in pig shit. In that rock-bottom moment Jesus shared:

“That brought him to his senses. He said, ‘All those farmhands working for my father sit down to three meals a day, and here I am starving to death. I’m going back to my father. I’ll say to him, Father, I’ve sinned against God, I’ve sinned before you; I don’t deserve to be called your son. Take me on as a hired hand.’ He got right up and went home to his father.

Wendy and I discussed that this very moment, in the midst of the dark valley, at rock-bottom, and knee-deep in pig shit, was a holy moment. That’s the way the spiritual journey often works. Holiness is not confined to the definition of moral purity found at the mountain-top of righteousness. Holiness can also be found in the spiritual awakening that often happens not at the summit of morality but in the muck of a shattered life.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 106, is the final song in Book IV of the anthology of Hebrew song lyrics we know as the Psalms. It is another summary review of the history of the Hebrews. As the song comes to its conclusion, the songwriter pens:

Save us, Lord our God,
    and gather us from the nations

This would indicate that this song was likely written from a place of exile when the Hebrew tribes had been scattered across the Assyrian and Babylonian empires. What’s different in this re-telling of the history compared to the one I just read last week is the heart of repentance. The songwriter finds himself far from home, broken, living amidst his enemies and he recognizes that this dark valley was part of the consequence of his peoples own poor choices. Like the Prodigal, like Wendy and me, the songwriter is having his own holy moment of spiritual awakening. He’s owning his part (and the part of his people) in landing himself in this dark valley. He’s making the spiritual turn.

In the quiet this morning I find myself thinking about my own journey which includes holy moments that occurred both on spiritual mountain tops and sinful, dark valleys. King David wrote in another song (we haven’t gotten to it yet) that there’s nowhere that he could flee from God’s presence. Even in my lowest, darkest moments, God was not absent. It was there He helped awaken my spirit to my need to change the spiritual trajectory of my life.

It was a holy moment.

That’s Qadosh

That's Qadosh (CaD Ps 99) Wayfarer

Exalt the Lord our God and worship at his holy mountain, for the Lord our God is holy.
Psalm 99:9 (NIV)

While being in quarantine has frustrated my extroverted need for interpersonal interaction over the past ten days, I have also been mindful each day to appreciate the opportunity it has afforded Wendy and me to spend lots of time with our grandson, Milo, who normally resides across the pond in Scotland. Yesterday, my exercise monitor informed me that I’d set a new personal record for exercise in one day. If you’re having a hard time getting into that New Year’s workout routine, I suggest finding someone to loan you their three-year-old for a few days.

One of the more endearing developments during our extended time together has been Milo’s desire to go to sleep at night in Papa and Yaya’s bed. Last night, Wendy and I climbed onto the bed with Milo between us. We read three books together, then turned out the light. We sang softly in the darkness. Wendy reached over Milo and held my hand as we lay and sang with Milo nestled between us. Even with my hearing impairment, I could hear Milo’s deep breaths as he drifted to sleep. We then whispered a prayer over him before slipping out of the room.

That, my friend, was a special moment. I wanted to just stay in that moment forever. If only I could bottle it up and hold onto it. I immediately knew that it was a memory I will remember and cherish always.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 99, continues in this section of ancient Hebrew praise songs. They were likely used for liturgical purposes to call the Hebrews to worship in the temple. The lyricist of Psalm 99 layered this call to praise with metaphorical meaning that casual readers in English would never pick up.

Remember in yesterday’s post/podcast I shared that “everything is connected?” The Hebrews found spiritual connections with numbers. Each number had meaning. Seven was a number that meant “completeness.” Three was a number spiritually connected to the divine. There are three stanzas, each with four verses (4+3=7). Seven times the songwriter uses the Hebrew name of God, Yahweh. Seven times he uses Hebrew independent personal pronouns. Three times he refers to God as “holy” (Hebrew: qadosh).

I confess that “holy” is a word, and a spiritual concept, that I failed to fully understand, or flat out got wrong, for most of my journey. The concept of holiness as communicated by the institutional churches I’ve been involved in my whole life made holiness out to be simple moral purity in the utmost sense. The equation was “no sin” plus “going to church” equaled “holiness” (x + y = z). Which meant that holiness, unless you were Mother Theresa, was pretty much unattainable.

I have come to understand, however, that qadosh has a much larger meaning. There are moments in life in which everyone in the room knows there is something meaningful, something special, something larger that is happening in the moment.

Our daughter, Taylor, has an audiotape of the moment she entered the world in the delivery room. You hear her squeaky cries. You hear Dr. Shaw announce it‘s a girl. You hear me talking to her on the warming table. That moment is qadosh.

Last October I stood with our daughter, Madison, in a courtyard. We watched the congregation stand and turn toward us. The beautiful bride, whom I taught to walk, I now walked down the aisle to “give her away” to the man she loves. People smiled and wept. That moment was qadosh.

I sat in the dark room of the nursing home as my grandmother’s life ebbed away with each strained breath. Through the wee hours I kept watch over her. I held her hand. I sang her favorite hymn. I read the final chapter of the Great Story to her and I realized in the moment that it was like reading a travel brochure for the trip she was about to take. That moment was qadosh.

Last night as Wendy and I held hands and hovered over our peaceful, sleeping grandson lying in our bed. We sang. We prayed blessings over him. It was a holy moment. That’s qadosh.

Throughout the Great Story, when God made a special appearance (theologians call that a theophany) the person to whom God appears is mesmerized, speechless, dumbfounded, or overwhelmed. To be in the presence of God, described by lyricist of Psalm 99 as the royal King of Kings. That moment is qadosh.

When the psalmist calls me to worship, he’s not religiously demanding that I dutifully “go to church” in an effort to attain some pinnacle of moral purity. In fact, when I meditate on the fullness of all the qadosh moments I’ve recalled, then all my old notions of what it means to be “holy” are silly in their triteness. The psalmist is calling me into the mysterious, beautiful, meaningful moment of qadosh.

From Simple Ritual to Complex Regulation

So then, whoever eats the bread or drinks the cup of the Lord in an unworthy manner will be guilty of sinning against the body and blood of the Lord.
1 Corinthians 11:27 (NIV)

On the night before His crucifixion, Jesus and His followers celebrated a ritual meal called the Passover. It is an annual remembrance of the events in the book of Exodus, in which God leads the Hebrew people out of slavery in Egypt. The ritual meal, also called a Seder, is full of metaphors and word pictures that remind participants of key events and spiritual lessons from the Exodus story. At the time of Jesus, the Passover was already an ancient ritual dating back over a thousand years.

On this night, Jesus creates a new ritual and metaphor for His followers. He simply took a loaf of unleavened bread, broke it, and passed it around for His followers to partake. “This is my body, broken for you,” he said. Then he took a cup of wine and passed it, saying, “This is my blood, shed for you.” Jesus then told His followers to share in this very simple ritual when they get together as a ritual remembrance of the sacrifice He was about to make. The fact that it was done after the Passover meal layers the metaphor with even more meaning. Just as God led the people out of slavery in Egypt, Jesus is establishing a “new covenant” in which He is going to lead humanity out of slavery to sin.

Over time, this relatively simple, ritual metaphor came to be known as Communion, the Lord’s Supper, or Eucharist. As the organism of the early Jesus Movement became the Institution of the Roman church, the ritual became a much more complex religious act layered with all sorts of rules and regulations. It became the centerpiece of worship surrounded by other rituals for how it was done. Only a priest sanctioned by the church could administer it. Those who don’t belong to your particular group of believers were not welcome to participate. And so on, and so on.

As a young follower of Jesus, I was part of a relatively conservative group of believers. I can remember the verse, pasted above, from today’s chapter being used regularly among my particular tribe of believers as a word of warning to young people. It was a religious variation on the Santa Claus principle: “He’s checking his list to see if you’re naughty. You better be good or Santa won’t bring you any gifts.” When it came to communion, we were warned that we better have our hearts right and our lives free from sin or we were putting ourselves at risk of judgement.

As I’ve progressed in my spiritual journey, I’ve largely abandoned the institutional pomp, circumstance, warnings, and regulatory commands that the institutional church has laid on top of Jesus’ simple act. The warning that Paul gave in his letter to the followers of Jesus in Corinth had a very specific context. Believers met and shared a meal together, and then they ended their evening by repeating Jesus’ ritual word picture. In Corinth, some followers were creating cliques, having private meals, and excluding other believers. Some followers were getting drunk on wine and were intoxicated by the time the ritual of the bread and wine was carried out. In both cases, the metaphor of the bread and wine was profaned; It was emptied of meaning by the actions of those believers who shamelessly behaved in a way that diminished the entire meaning of the ritual.

In the quiet this morning I’m reminded that Jesus’ institution of the ritual of communion happened with no commands, rules, or regulations other than to repeat the word picture regularly when believers got together. Jesus didn’t make caveats about it only being administered by approved followers, being an exclusive ritual for only certain institutionally approved persons, or that those partaking had to approach with a certain level of holiness. In fact, the word picture itself is about Jesus sacrificing Himself because we can’t attain acceptable holiness on our own, so why would we suggest that purity and holiness are required to partake in the bread and cup? That profanes the meaning of the ritual as well.

Life, and Light, Under the Bucket

I wrote to you in my letter not to associate with sexually immoral people, not at all meaning the people of this world...
1 Corinthians 5:10 (NIV)

There once was a Christian man, raised in a Christian family. From his infancy he attended a Christian church and then was placed in Christian school where he had many Christian friends. He listened exclusively to Christian music on the Christian music station and read Christian novels from the Christian publisher that he purchased from the Christian book store. During high school he involved himself with Christian athletes and in his senior year he attended the Christian prom with his Christian girlfriend. After graduating from Christian high school, the young man attended a Christian college. He went on several Christian missions to the third world and interned at two different Christian organizations. He met a good Christian girl from a Christian family, and he married her. After graduating from the Christian college, the man returned to his hometown to start a Christian business, listed in the local Christian business directory, and joined a Christian men’s group to help him raise his Christian family. And, it started all over again.

Jesus said,

“Here’s another way to put it: You’re here to be light, bringing out the God-colors in the world. God is not a secret to be kept. We’re going public with this, as public as a city on a hill. If I make you light-bearers, you don’t think I’m going to hide you under a bucket, do you? I’m putting you on a light stand. Now that I’ve put you there on a hilltop, on a light stand—shine! Keep open house; be generous with your lives. By opening up to others, you’ll prompt people to open up with God, this generous Father in heaven.”

If I was the enemy of Light, and I wanted to keep the Light from penetrating the darkness, I would simply convince the Light bearers that “holiness” was totally dependent on keeping their Light hidden under an overturned bucket of social, cultural, and familial exclusivity. Then, I would sprinkle in the notion that those in darkness will either be  1) somehow attracted to their little circle of exclusivity under the bucket or 2) deserving of the hopeless, eternal darkness outside.

What the hell?

Chapter-a-Day Leviticus 21

via Flickr & gawwdkristen

God spoke to Moses: “Tell Aaron, None of your descendants, in any generation to come, who has a defect of any kind may present as an offering the food of his God.” Leviticus 21:16 (MSG)

One of the tasks of my job is helping companies establish a standard for quality when it comes to serving customers on the phone. My experience is that most companies establish a low standard because they want to make sure that all of their employees can meet the standard with very little effort. Some companies establish a very high standard so that their employees must work very hard to improve their performance and reach their goal. I have never watched a company set such a high standard that a perfect score always meant an exceptionally great service experience. Even with the toughest quality scales, you can listen to calls that received the highest possible score and find opportunities for improvement.

As I read today’s chapter, I couldn’t help but see a parallel. I read the list of rules and expectations for the priests and I felt like I was reading a list of performance management expectations from God’s HR department. And, the scale was unbelievably tough. The smallest defect in person or performance rendered the priest unfit to serve on God’s team.

Once again, I find myself left with a clear picture of a holy God demanding holy perfection. The result is a quality assessment scale which sets the bar so high that no one ever reaches 100. And, that is the point of the scale. When we finally realize that we can never reach the demands of moral and spiritual perfection from holy God, we will be ready to understand God’s priceless gift and sacrifice God made on our behalf.

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