Tag Archives: Peace

A Good Place

A Good Place (CaD Jos 21) Wayfarer

Not one of all the Lord’s good promises to Israel failed; every one was fulfilled.
Joshua 21:45 (NIV)

Looking back on my life journey, there are moments along life’s road when I found myself at a waypoint that was a “good place.” A milestone had been reached, a long-awaited goal was achieved, or life at that moment just seemed to be in a positive and peaceful flow.

I always try to remind myself to enjoy those moments when they happen. It never lasts.

One of the movies we tend to watch around Christmas time is the rom-com While You Were Sleeping. One of my favorite scenes is when the family patriarch, played by Peter Boyle, waxes eloquently about how he’s at one of those “good place” moments in life when everything is working out, everyone is getting along, every family member is doing well, and life is good. His son, played by Bill Pullman, has come over to drop a bombshell that he doesn’t want to inherit the family business, “Hey Pop,” the son says, “This isn’t one of those moments.”

In today’s chapter, the Levites are the last tribes to receive allotments. The Levites were the priestly tribe, and while they didn’t get tribal land, they were given towns within the other tribes to settle with their families, flocks, and herds. The priestly tribe was spread out and sprinkled within the other tribes so that every tribe had priests among them to perform priestly duties.

With that final distribution, the author of Joshua proclaims one of those “we’re in a good place” moments. A goal had been achieved as the major conquest campaigns were finished and there wasn’t an enemy left with the power to dislodge them. A milestone had been reached, and they were settled in the promised land. They were in a good place and took a moment to recognize God’s faithfulness and fulfilled promises.

Enjoy it. It won’t last.

I’m really not trying to be the pessimist here, but after 40+ years of studying the Great Story from Genesis to Revelation, I can tell you that this earthly journey is filled with trials, faith tests, and tough times. I’m told to expect it, to prepare for it, and to not be surprised when I think we’re finally in a “good place” on Life’s road. Then Life unexpectedly says, “You know what? This isn’t one of those moments.”

Being a disciple of Jesus, I’ve spent a lot of time studying His teachings, and a lot of them are about how I am to respond to the stuff that this earthly life throws at me:

When I am taxed, I’m to render unto Caesar.
When I am slapped, I’m to turn the other cheek.
When my coat is unjustly conscripted, I’m to offer my shirt as well.
When I’m forced against my will to walk one mile, I’m to walk two.
When I’m wronged, I’m to forgive, and forgive, and forgive, and forgive.
When I find myself with less, I’m to treasure what awaits me in eternity.
When I’m poor in spirit, I’m to consider myself blessed.
When I’m in mourning, I’m to consider myself blessed.

So many of Jesus’ teachings are predicated on the fact that I will face difficulties, hostility, pain, loss, and trials on this life journey.

So if and when I occasionally find myself at a waypoint that’s a good place and all seems right with the world, I’ve learned to enjoy the heck out of it, thank God for it, and soak it all in while I can.

The “good place” that the Hebrew tribes find themselves in today’s chapter will not last. The period of the Judges, which is the next book in the Great Story, is a time of systemic sin and cyclical violence. But, that’s still a few chapters away. In today’s chapter, everything is groovy.

I’ll enjoy it while it lasts.

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

The Tension

The Tension (CaD Heb 8) Wayfarer

By calling this covenant “new,” he has made the first one obsolete; and what is obsolete and outdated will soon disappear.
Hebrews 8:13 (NIV)

The Temple Mount in Jerusalem is, and likely will always be, a place of constant tension. The three major world religions consider it sacred space, and this means that there are frequent disputes that take many different shapes. The Al Aqsa Mosque with its gold dome sits atop the Mount surrounded by ancient walls. Below the western wall of the Mosque are remnants of the ancient Jewish Temple, commonly called “the wailing wall” where Jews and Christians pray daily. There is always tension.

I and my two companions were there during a particularly tense political period, things were largely locked down and access was limited. We had two interpreters and guides. One was an older woman, Jewish by birth, who had become a believer in Jesus and considered herself “a completed Jew.” The other was Arab by birth, Jewish by citizenship, and Christian by faith. He was a carpenter in Nazareth.

As we walked along the open area leading to the wailing wall, our female guide spoke of incidents in which Muslims violently attacked and killed Jews at the wall. A few moments later, our male guide quietly leaned into me to explain that the area where we were standing had once been a poor Arab neighborhood which the Jews bulldozed to make public space at the wall. Our time in Jerusalem was like that. Our guides, both followers of Jesus, saw everything from vastly different perspectives. They loved one another, but they often argued (always in Hebrew, which they both spoke but we didn’t). It was a microcosm of the much larger tension that exists there.

Our Arab brother, in particular, quietly saw to it that we experienced the tension first hand. The Temple Mount and Mosque were shut down to tourists because of the tensions, but he insisted on trying to get permission for us to see it briefly. We were grudgingly allowed to ascend a building of the Temple Authorities to view the mosque and its courtyard from the roof over the wall. The entire time we were followed, watched and made to feel the contempt and authority of our disgruntled hosts.

In a separate experience, our guide snuck us as tag-along with a group of Jews visiting the area’s Temple center. Not knowing that four Christians were in the audience, we were treated to hear about the group’s rabid desire to someday rebuild the Jewish Temple and return to the sacrificial system of Moses (complete with blueprints, exhaustive construction plans, and multi-media presentation). As a bonus, we got to hear the presenters speak mockingly of both Jesus and His followers.

I thought of these experiences this morning as I mulled over today’s chapter. The author of the letter to the Hebrews is facing similar tension as he explains that a spiritual shift of tectonic proportions has taken place through Jesus’ death and resurrection. For his fellow Hebrews, this means every religious thing they’ve ever known has changed. The old covenant between God and Moses is literally “obsolete” and a new covenant has taken its place. He then states quite emphatically that the “outdated will soon disappear.”

As I read this I had two thoughts. One was simply that tension that must have existed. Humans don’t like change, and I’ve observed it to be especially true when it comes to well-established and deep-seated religious traditions. The second thought was of Jesus and His followers as they left the Temple mount just days before His impending crucifixion. His followers were impressed with the Temple complex, but Jesus said, “Truly I tell you, not one stone here will be left on another; every one will be thrown down.”

And that’s what happened in 70 A.D. when Roman legions descended on Jerusalem to stomp out the Jewish rebellion against Rome. The Temple was torn down. All of the Jewish genealogical records were destroyed, ensuring that it could no longer be definitively established who the descendants of Aaron, Levi, or any other tribe were. Because only descendants of Aaron could be priests, and only Levites could serve in the temple, the sacrificial system was essentially wiped out with the Temple’s destruction.

In the quiet this morning, I’m reminded that Jesus promised His followers that there would be trouble in this world, along with trials, suffering, and persecution. He said that there will be wars and rumors of war. Nations conspire, people plot, and rulers rage.

There’s always tension.

At the very same time, Jesus told His followers not to allow their hearts to be troubled by such things. He said that there is a peace with which He would leave us. It’s not an international peace, but an inner and interpersonal peace that “passes all understanding” available to me.

In just a moment, I will descend to the kitchen to peruse today’s headlines with Wendy over breakfast. I already know what I will find there. Wars and rumors of war. People plotting. Rulers raging. Tension. I needed the reminder of peace this morning. The words of Isaiah come to mind as I wrap up today’s post:

You will keep in perfect peace
    those whose minds are steadfast,
    because they trust in you.

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

Bad Blood

Bad Blood (CaD Ob 1) Wayfarer

Jacob will be a fire
    and Joseph a flame;
Esau will be stubble,
    and they will set him on fire and destroy him.
There will be no survivors
    from Esau.”
The Lord has spoken.

Obadiah 1:18 (NIV)

Some of the more fascinating discoveries in the excavation of my family history have been the bad blood that exists between individuals and family units. In some cases, entire family groups have had little or no relationship with one another for generations and have no idea that the distance is rooted in bad blood from generations before.

I found bad blood in both my paternal and maternal families. I discovered bad blood rising from a host of reasons including, but not limited to, unwanted pregnancies, marriages, re-marriages, inheritance, family business, addiction, and deception. Most commonly, bad blood occurred between siblings, but bad blood between parents and children was also present.

Today’s chapter is the prophecy of Obadiah who wrote a short prophetic poem against the nation of Edom at the time Nebuchadnezzar and the Babylonian Empire were marching on Jerusalem around 600 B.C. The Edomites, who had considered joining the local defense against the Babylonian Empire, ended up siding with Babylon.

The Edomites were descendants of Esau, the elder twin brother of Jacob. If you were on our chapter-a-day journey through Genesis last year, you might recall the bad blood between them. Bad blood arose between brothers because of the favoritism demonstrated by both parents. Dad favored Esau. Mom favored Jacob. This led to Jacob’s deceptive stealing of Esau’s blessing and inheritance then fleeing into exile for years. All of this took place around 2000 B.C.

I did the math this morning. The bad blood Obadiah is writing about in today’s chapter between the people of Israel and the people of Edom began with a conflict between brothers 1400 years before Obadiah picked up his papyrus and stylus.

In the quiet this morning, I circle back to thinking about family. I know that a lot of people could give a rat’s rear-end about the past. I get it. I have always had a bent toward the past and a love of history. It was fascinating to learn that this is part of being an Enneagram Type Four. I have personally found it worthwhile in a couple of different respects.

First, I have gotten to correspond with and to know members of my family I would otherwise have never known. Their stories have added new layers of understanding of the family systems from which I spring. It helps me understand myself, my parents, my grandparents, and my great-grandparents and their stories in a greater context, along with a ton more grace. There’s so much in life we don’t control, including the family systems that produced us.

Second, is the old adage that “those who don’t learn from history are doomed to repeat it.” I have tried very hard along my life journey to avoid the traps that lead to the kind of bad blood which can affect individuals and family groups. I can’t help but recall Paul’s words to Jesus’ followers in Rome:  “If it is possible, as far as it depends on you, live at peace with everyone.”

Along my journey, I’ve discovered that living at peace requires me to care more about what matters than what doesn’t. That has meant valuing people over politics (or religion, or morality codes, etc.), choosing relationships over being right, and letting go of things of temporal value to perpetuate love that is priceless. This sometimes (often?) requires letting go of the past and choosing forgiveness so that future generations don’t systemically perpetuate bad blood they personally had nothing to do with simply because that bad blood was never dealt with and permanently infected the family system.

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

Trouble and Peace

Trouble and Peace (CaD John 16) Wayfarer

They will put you out of the synagogue; in fact, the time is coming when anyone who kills you will think they are offering a service to God.” 
John 16:2 (NIV)

The little Iowa town where Wendy and I live has a fascinating history. It was founded and designed by a pastor who was escaping persecution in the Netherlands. That sounds odd to most people since the Netherlands is known for being a place of tolerance. In the early 1800s, however, the King of the Netherlands, and the government, controlled the church of the Netherlands. Pastors were told what to preach, and were threatened and punished if they disobeyed.

There was a group of rebellious young pastors who led an organized secession from the state church. Some were imprisoned for it. The leader of the secessionist movement was H.P. Scholte, and it was during this period of conflict with the state church of the Netherlands that he decided he wanted to experience the freedom of religion and the freedom of speech guaranteed to all Americans. In 1847, he led hundreds of followers to the Iowa prairie and created a town out of nothing.

In America, Scholte fully exercised his freedoms. Always a maverick, he refused to join any denomination and eventually built his own church which he led as a local, independent, non-denominational congregation. He practiced his freedom of speech by publishing his own paper, loudly speaking out for the abolition of slavery, and getting involved in the political process. He became a friend of Abraham Lincoln. The faith and spirit that Scholte and his wife imbued in this town is still evident for those who have eyes to see it.

Today’s chapter is the third of four chapters that John dedicates to all the things Jesus told His followers on the night before His crucifixion. Almost 20% of his biography is dedicated to those few hours on a Thursday evening.

Two chapters ago, I observed that all of the players present in the “fall” in the Garden of Eden (Genesis 3) are represented and/or referenced on this fateful evening. Again in today’s chapter, Jesus references the “prince of this world.” Jesus points to the fact that the events of this evening are part of a larger story; They are part of the Great Story.

What fascinated me as I, once again, read Jesus words to His followers this morning was both the warning and the promise with which today’s chapter is bookended. Jesus begins by warning His followers of the difficulties they will soon face: institutional persecution and the threat of death. Jesus wasn’t lying. All but one of the eleven disciples listening to these words (Judas was, at that moment, carrying out his betrayal) would be killed, martyred, for carrying out Jesus’ mission. At the end of the chapter, Jesus reiterates the “trouble” that they will experience in this world adding that “in Him” they would find peace amidst the conflict.

As I contemplate this, I am reminded of three things:

First, that when Wendy and I attended our local gathering of Jesus’ followers yesterday, it was the result of a legacy of believers who literally risked life and limb to escape “trouble” to carve out lives in the freedom of America.

Second, I am reminded of the “trouble” that many followers of Jesus face this day. I recently read that in Nigeria, 43,000 followers of Jesus have been killed in the past 12 years. An additional 18,000 have permanently disappeared. 17,500 churches have been attacked. There are 49 other countries in which the risk of “trouble” for being a follower of Jesus is rated “very high” to “extreme.” Those are dangers a follower of Jesus in America can largely ignore because it’s not my reality.

Which brings me to my third thought. In recent weeks, almost 60 churches have been attacked and burned in Canada, and last week a group of followers exercising their right to freely assemble and publicly worship were physically attacked by Antifa while police allegedly stood by and did nothing. “Trouble” is suddenly hits closer to home in ways I never expected to see in my lifetime.

In the quiet this morning, I’m reminded of Jesus’ promise which was a very direct contrast statement: In this world you will have trouble,” He stated, while In me you will have peace.” The latter was never intended to negate or escape the former. Rather, it was intended as the means to endure it.

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

Peace Amidst Conflict

Peace Amidst Conflict (CaD John 14) Wayfarer

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
John 14:27 (NIV)

One of the most instrumental classes of my entire education was Eighth Grade English with Mrs. McLaren. Not only did she teach me about how writing is structured, but she also taught me about how story is structured. She was the first teacher to teach me that every good story contains conflict. Conflict comes in many forms. It might be good versus evil, conflict between God and a person, conflict between a person and the world, a person against another person, or a person fighting against themselves. Our lives and. our world are filled with conflict, and conflict disrupts peace.

In the Great Story, conflict is unleashed like a torrent in Genesis 3. Evil disrupts the peace and harmony of the Garden by causing the man and woman to question what God has said (Good vs. Evil) and then tempts them to eat the forbidden fruit. This creates conflict (shame and blame) between God and His creation (God vs. humans)and between the man and woman (person vs. person). The result of this conflict is more conflict. God kicks the man and woman out of the garden (God vs. humans), curses the evil one (God vs. evil), curses the man to toil and death (man vs. the world; man vs. self), curses the woman to pain in childbirth and struggle with man (woman vs. world; woman vs. man), and the whole thing establishes a special animosity between the woman and evil one (woman vs. evil).

There’s a whole lot of conflict going on!

In today’s chapter, Jesus is sharing with His followers on the night before He is to be crucified. Unlike the other three biographers (Matthew, Mark, and Luke) who focus on the events of Jesus’ final night and the day of His crucifixion, John dedicates four of his final seven chapters to all of the things Jesus told them on that fateful night. As the last of the four biographers, and as one writing from a waypoint much further down life’s road, John is writing from the perspective of what his readers need to hear. Most followers of Jesus know the events because the other three biographies have been spread and read far and wide. Inspired by Holy Spirit, John realizes that Jesus’ followers need to hear what Jesus told them the night before His execution.

In reading Jesus story, people often forget to understand these final hours of Jesus’ earthly life in the context of the Great Story. I’ve said all along that one of John’s themes is identity, and in today’s chapter I can identify all of the players from Genesis 3. Jesus even references the Evil One in today’s chapter: “The prince of this world is coming. He has no hold over me.”

Back in Genesis 3, God said this to the evil one:

“And I will put enmity
    between you and the woman,
    and between your offspring and hers;
he will crush your head,
    and you will strike his heel.”

After the Garden incident, the evil one identified as the “prince of this world” was given dominion over all the kingdoms of this world. The evil one even offered to give Jesus all the kingdoms of this world when he tempted Jesus before the beginning of His ministry, asking that Jesus merely bow and worship him. Jesus refused, and the conflict continues.

Now we have the God (in the incarnate Christ), man (in the disciples), woman (there were several women in Jesus entourage who were there), and the woman of the prophecy in the person of Jesus’ mother Mary who was also present with them, living with them, and traveling with them. What is happening is more than mere happenstance. This is a cosmic convergence and climax to the Great Story.

In light of all this conflict, I find it fascinating that Jesus says that He is giving His followers peace (that’s different than the world can give) and they shouldn’t allow their hearts to be troubled or afraid.

In the quiet this morning, I can’t help but think about what chaotic times we live in. I can’t help but think about the tremendous lack of peace I see amidst fear of death, fear of COVID, fear of those who don’t think the same, fear of tragedy, fear of anarchy, or fear of [fill in the blank]. Yet Jesus wanted me, His follower, to experience peace amidst the turmoil still being stirred up by the prince of this world and all the age old conflicts that have plagued human beings since the fourth chapter of the Great Story.

As I mull these things over, I realize that I experience greater peace today then at any other time of my life journey. This isn’t because my circumstances have changed but because I’ve changed. The further I get in my spiritual journey, the more I grow in relationship with Jesus, the more I’ve experienced the peace He references in today’s chapter. As I see the world growing more anxious and fearful, I’ve grown less so. I find it important that Jesus told me not to allow my heart to be troubled. I have a say in this. I have a choice. I can allow the fear and anxiety being stirred up and pedaled by the prince of this world to keep me tied up in knots today, or I can believe Jesus, trust His Word, and embrace how the Great Story ends with “all things working together for good for those who are in Christ Jesus.” The more a I truly and consciously choose the latter, the more I experience peace.

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

The Three Questions

The Three Questions (CaD Mk 5) Wayfarer

As Jesus was getting into the boat, the man who had been demon-possessed begged to go with him. Jesus did not let him, but said, “Go home to your own people and tell them how much the Lord has done for you, and how he has had mercy on you.”
Mark 5:18-19 (NIV)

Tomorrow I celebrate another year on this earthly journey. The earth has made another trip around the sun. It’s my plan to take the day off and have a little personal time. We’ll see how that plays out.

Along the journey I’ve perpetually spent time in the quiet with God contemplating three questions:

  • Where have I been?
  • Where am I at?
  • Where am I going?

As a young man, the answers to the first two questions typically resonated with discontent. The third resonated with hubris.

A little further in the journey, the first two questions resonated with anger. The third resonated with confusion.

Yet further down the path the first question began resonating with gratitude. The second question began resonating with clarity for the first time. The third question began resonating with hopeful longing.

Some mornings as I read the chapter, I find myself meditating on a character in the story. There are so many people we meet in Jesus’ story, but I rarely give most of them more than a passing thought. They are two-dimensional bit-players who make a quick entrance, speak their line or two, and then exit to the Great Story’s Green Room.

When I trained as an actor, I was taught that even bit players have a story. I was trained to study each character that I embodied with equal depth and attention to detail whether I was in the lead role or a bit player. And so, I sometimes like doing a little character study of the bit players I come upon in the chapter. Today it was the man who had spent his life possessed by demons, living amongst the dead and rotting bodies in the local tombs. The locals continued to tie him up and shackle him with chains because he was so raving mad and out of control. Talk about an interesting answer to the introspective question “Where have I been?”

The answer to “Where am I at?” is radically different than it had ever been before. It’s suddenly “normal” like everyone else. The demons are gone. His chains are gone. His spirit and his mind are his own for the first time in how many years? He is a walking miracle. He’s still the one everyone is talking about, but in an entirely new way.

“Where am I going?” he asks himself. His life is suddenly open to endless possibilities. Why not follow this teacher who delivered him? Why not dedicate his life to going wherever Jesus goes, doing whatever Jesus says, and serving Jesus in life-long gratitude? He seeks out Jesus and begs to follow.

It was Jesus answer that resonated in my soul this morning. Jesus could have taken on another disciple. He could have sent this man on any mission to any land Jesus named to accomplish any task no matter how seemingly impossible, and the man would have gladly done it.

But, no. Jesus says, “Stay here, my friend. Stay here in this little village on the shores of Galilee that you call home. Go home to your family and your community. Channel your gratitude for me into loving and serving them well. Love, and be loved. Get a job and support these neighbors who have looked after you for so long. Get married, make love, have children, and experience the joy of a simple life. That’s my mission for you.”

As I heard Jesus saying this in the scene I envisioned in my imagination, one of my life verses came to mind:

Make it your ambition to lead a quiet life: You should mind your own business and work with your hands, just as we told you, so that your daily life may win the respect of outsiders and so that you will not be dependent on anybody.
1 Thessalonians 4:11-12 (NIV)

As I meditate on entering another year in the journey tomorrow, my heart meanders back, yet again, to the three questions. Amidst the Divine Dance I toss the questions out and open my spirit to the answers.

“Where have I been?” The answer resonates with gratitude more than ever before.

“Where am I at?” The answer has begun to resonate with contentment.

“Where am I going?” The answer is surprisingly soft and still compared to the chaotic resonance of hubris, anger, and longing I’ve known my entire life journey. Wait a minute…

Is that peace?

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

Body

Body (CaD Ps 133) Wayfarer

How good and pleasant it is
    when God’s people live together in unity!

Psalm 133:1 (NIV)

Over the past few years, I’ve had the honor of leading a team of teachers in my local gathering of Jesus’ followers. They are a diverse and gifted group of people, representing paid staff members and volunteers of different ages, denominational backgrounds, gender, vocations, educational levels, and personalities.

Almost every week, I assign the group a message to watch on the internet. We’ve watched teachers and preachers from the National Cathedral to small rural towns. We’ve watched teachers of different styles, traditions, denominations, backgrounds, and abilities. We gather for lunch once a month to discuss what we’ve heard, observed, and learned from the different teachers and preachers we’ve watched. It’s been a really interesting experience.

In the first century, the followers of Jesus used the metaphor of a body to describe all believers. My experience of leading our local teaching team has given me a deeper appreciation for, and awareness of, just how beautiful and powerful that word picture is. The body is made up of eleven different systems. The systems do their thing and have various parts that provide particular functions unrelated to other systems, yet without them providing that function the health of the entire body suffers.

I’ve observed that the different members of our teaching team, each with his or her own communication style, personality, and waypoint on life’s journey, resonate deeply with different constituencies within our local “body” but less so with others. I find this to be natural and healthy for the “body” which benefits by learning from and appreciating different voices and perspectives. I’ve come to meditate quite a bit about unity.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 133, was another one of the songs that ancient Hebrew pilgrims sang as they and thousands of their fellow tribe made the trek to seasonal festivals in Jerusalem. It’s a short little ditty celebrating national unity that would have resonated with the travelers as they encountered fellow citizens making the same trek alongside them.

Along my life journey, I’ve come to understand that unity does not mean sameness. In fact, it doesn’t mean agreement. I am grieved by the level of discord, dissension, conflict, and “cancellation” in our culture of late. I was raised to be respectful of differences in people and appreciative of the opportunity to learn from those differences. As a follower of Jesus, those beliefs have been strengthened and reinforced in me by Jesus’ teaching that calls me to humbly be gracious; To love, forgive, and serve others, especially those whom I might otherwise consider my “enemy.”

Increasingly, I’ve come to realize that spiritually speaking, I am a very minute part of a massive, complex “body” made up of different systems, organs, limbs, and cells. There are parts of the body I don’t touch, and will never interact with. There are parts of the body with completely different functions than mine. There are other systems of the body I don’t fully understand and with whom I observe we are totally different in almost every way. Nevertheless, we are part of a “whole” that may well be beyond my human comprehension.

In yesterday’s post I wrote about things I control and things that I don’t. I can’t control others who choose to live in anger, stir conflict, and sow division and dishonor with anyone who looks, thinks, believes and/or lives differently. It’s unhealthy for the whole, and yet I can only control the part I play in my little part of that whole.

And so, I head out on another day of the journey, choosing to do the best I can to live in love, stir understanding, and sow peace with those I meet along the road on this pilgrimage called life.

“Centering Down”

"Centering Down" (CaD Ps 87) Wayfarer

As they make music they will sing,
    “All my fountains are in you.”

Psalm 87:7 (NIV)

Just this last week there was news from the Gallup organization regarding an annual survey of mental health in America comparing respondents in 2020 to 2019. Given the tumultuous year we’ve experienced on almost every front, I’d expect the mental health of Americans to be strained. It was. The percent of individuals who rated their mental health as “excellent” dropped in every demographic presented in the data except one. Those who attended weekly religious services saw the only increase in the number of respondents who rated their mental health as “excellent.” Comparatively, there were double-digit declines of those who said they never or irregularly attended religious services.

A couple of weeks ago, Laine Korver was my guest on the Wayfarer Weekend Podcast and we talked about spiritual formation. I mentioned in that episode a brief period of time when I served among a local gathering of Jesus followers in the Quaker (a.k.a. the Society of Friends) tradition. It was fascinating for me because I had zero experience with the tradition and I quite honestly had a number of divergent theological views. Still, it turned out to be a great experience.

In the Friends tradition, regular “weekly meetings” (as they refer to what most churches would call a worship service) are held in silence. There is no order of service. In the silence, participants spiritually “center down.” In all of the traditions I’ve experienced as a follower of Jesus, it was the first time I’d experienced the practice of silence as a regular spiritual discipline. It was powerful, and I learned a lot during that stretch of my spiritual journey about my soul’s need for quiet.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 87 is a short song celebrating Jerusalem, or Mount Zion, which the ancient Hebrews believed was the center of God’s presence on earth and the cosmos. It is unique within the anthology we call the book of Psalms. It prophetically pictures the people from all of the nations coming to Jerusalem and acknowledging God, which parallels similar scenes in John’s Revelation.

What is also important about Psalm 87 is where it was placed by the editors who compiled the anthology. It is “centered” between four laments, two on each side. The bookends to Psalm 87 contain both a personal lament and a community lament expressing times of distress and as I’ve mentioned in previous posts the “center” is where the Hebrew songwriters tended to place what they believed was of key importance. By placing this call to God’s presence sandwiched between four laments the editors were metaphorically calling me as a reader to “center down” and come to God’s presence in the midst of my distress, both personal distress, and community/national distress. What I will find there, the song’s final line tells me is God’s “fountain” or “spring.” I couldn’t help but think of Jesus’ words:

“Everyone who drinks [water from this well] will get thirsty again and again. Anyone who drinks the water I give will never thirst—not ever. The water I give will be an artesian spring within, gushing fountains of endless life.” John 4:13-14 (MSG)

I find myself once again centering down in the quiet again this morning. It’s where I experience the flow, the spring, the spiritual fountain even in the middle of life’s distresses.

My mental health is excellent, thanks.

Refuge Within

Refuge Within (CaD Ps 46) Wayfarer

God is our refuge and strength,
    a very present help in trouble.

Psalm 46:1 (NRSVCE)

It seems strange in today’s world, but when I was a kid we walked to school and we would walk home. There were safety patrol members standing at the busy corners to make sure kids didn’t walk across the street when the sign said “don’t walk.” It was a sea of childhood humanity flooding out of the school and making a daily pilgrimage home.

Once you were off school grounds, of course, there was no adult supervision. It’s amazing how quickly we learned that there was safety in numbers, and since I had older siblings I had the advantage of knowing a bunch of kids older than me. I could tag along and feel the relative safety of being with a “big kid.”

The real goal, however, was home. There was a certain sense of safety once I got to my own block. That was my territory. I was known there. I experienced real safety, however, once I was inside my house. Any fear of bullies or anxiety of potential trouble melted away. I was safe at home.

Today’s chapter, Psalm 46, is a song that celebrated refuge. For the ancient Hebrews, home base was the walled city of Jerusalem. The temple was there on Mount Zion. For the Hebrews, God was there in His temple. Their warrior-king was there in his palace. Troubles may rage, but they celebrated the safety they felt being safely in the place God resided. For those who remember growing up singing the great hymns, today’s psalm was the inspiration for Martin Luther’s A Mighty Fortress is Our God.

As I have written about on numerous occasions, Jesus changed the entire spiritual landscape. He made it clear that God’s “temple” was not a bricks-and-mortar edifice. When I open my heart and life and invite Jesus in, God’s Spirit indwells me. The temple is me.

How radically that changes the metaphor of refuge. Refuge is no longer without. Refuge is within. Writing to the followers of Jesus in Phillipi, Paul explained that God’s peace, which is beyond human comprehension, guards my heart and guards my mind. Though troubles may surround me on all sides, I may find a peace within sourced not in me, but the Spirit in me.

In the quiet this morning, I’m taking comfort in that.

Very early in the Jesus Movement, believers began a ritual of “passing the Peace.” They would say to one another “the peace of Christ be with you.” It was a tangible way of reminding one another of this spiritual intangible of God’s refuge within.

In this world, we have lots of troubles. Jesus told us to expect it, and not to worry about it because He overcame the world. The beginning of another work week. Here we go.

The peace of Christ be with you, my friend.

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

The Predicate

The Predicate (CaD Ps 23) Wayfarer

The Lord is my shepherd…
Psalm 23:1 (NRSVCE)

What is there to say about, arguably, the most well-known passage of the Great Story? Books have been written about it. It is recited incessantly by millions of believers every day. I think it may have been read at every funeral I’ve ever attended. Our local gathering of Jesus’ followers did an entire series of messages on it. It has been explained, dissected, put to music, memorized, and printed on more trinkets, bookmarks, and wall plaques than any other text of the Great Story.

In the quiet this morning, as I meditated on the text, my soul landed on the opening five words: The Lord is my shepherd….

That’s the phrase that gets quickly forgotten when I recite it. I want to get to the green pastures and quiet waters part, because my soul desperately needs rest. I want to get to the restoration of soul because weariness seems to be its constant reality. I want to get to that comforting part, though I don’t know how a staff could do that. I just know that I really want to be comforted in the midst of a world that churns and blares with endless messages that create fear, anxiety, confusion, and depression in me. I want to get to the goodness and mercy, because I secretly hold in my faults, mistakes, flaws, and insecurities and the guilt, the shame, is sometimes debilitating.

As I read through David’s most well-known lyrics for the millionth time, this is what comes to mind. Everything described from the rest to the restoration, the anointing, the overflow of blessing, the kindness, the mercy, the homecoming, and safe dwelling, all of it is predicated on this One Thing: The Lord is my Shepherd.

But, is He?

Who is Shepherding me?

Is it possible that I could be allowing myself to be “shepherded” by another human being, a religious institution, a teacher, a university, a parent, a government, a political party, a screen, a device, a drug, a drink, a dream, a job, an appetite, or a cause?

Is it possible that the weariness, anxiety, fear, neediness, aimlessness, guilt, and shame which makes Psalm 23 so meaningful stems from the fact that I’m really just trying to “shepherd” myself?

This poured out onto my morning pages this morning:

Lord, I surrender to you my ego,
with all its insatiable neediness for security and affirmation.
I surrender to you Lord, my body,
with all of its insatiable appetites desiring indulgence.
Lord, I surrender to you my thoughts,
with all the destructive recordings that loop incessantly which no one sees or hears, the toxic things I feed it, and the worthless things on which it insistently dwells.
I surrender to you, Lord, my being,
which you created for your glory and not my fame or well-being.
Lord, I surrender to you control,
which I foolishly cling to in my doubt and disillusionment.
Lord, I surrender to you all that I possess,
and with it, the deceptive notion that I possess anything
for there is nothing I possess that does not threaten to possess me.
I surrender to you, Lord, my money,
and with it, the masquerade that tells me this world has anything of eternal value that could possibly be purchased.

Lord, be my Shepherd.

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