Gospel Relevance

Jesus is relevant through all time and space, through all matters of head and heart.  There is no need to dress up the I Am.

The I Am is now and in this moment. The Word does not return void.  Let it speak. 

Jesus came to us, the little dust people (Anne Graham Lotz), to seek us out and to save us, the lost. 

Is it possible we are too distracted by our musical styles and forms of casual dress in Church? 

Are we so busy being relevant that we have missed the savior in a Divine saving moment?

The relevance of Christ is.

The I Am is now - in this moment - in this place - 

People will be drawn to Christ and to Christ in us.  That is the relevance.  Pain the in the heart of humankind is what makes us relevant or universally attractive because it is God who reaches in to touch the pain and binding hearts and heads to himself.

Some days the best I can hope for is that somehow God's light shines through my day-to-day and reaches people in ways I may never know.   Dear Jesus, may we commit to the mystery of Your Abiding self in us.

Holy Spirit come and be poured out in us.

Woman Preacher: Overcoming Silence for a Calling

The truth is I have known I was called to preach for a very long time.  But, I am a female who grew up Baptist, and this is a heavy load to carry.  I never told anyone.  

I have spent decades finding my voice.  In order to be free to speak and to serve in the fullness of my calling,  to overcome my silence, I first needed to be convinced in my own mind that my calling was biblical.  Over the years, I doubted the call or my ability to hear God because well... how could God call me to be unbiblical?

In college,  I spent hours finding books on feminist theology and searching what others would say.  I searched the scriptures and what the words meant in the original languages.  I looked to women prophets, missionaries and preachers throughout history.  I knew in my heart that what I had been taught was not the full story,  but I could not speak out.  I had to be convinced in my own mind.

I suspect others knew I was called.  One day, I took a feminist theology book to my Biblical Interpretation professor to ask him what he thought of it.  He looked me square in the eye and said, "Maybe someday you will have something to contribute to those works."  As you can see,  I have never recovered from that moment that felt prophetic, even at the time.

I had other friends who encouraged me to take a preaching class.  Keep in mind I told no person about my internal need to proclaim the gospel.  But,  I was afraid to even ask if it was okay to take the class.  (I know now it would have been fine.  But, the power of your own historical theology is hard to overcome.)

While I continued to search for how God's calling would play out in my life, I became an English professor.  I have spent a lot of time studying how to study texts.  I have spent a lot of time studying rhetoric.  I have spent a lot of time teaching students to write and to think (on the best days).

Over the last year,  the silence has weighed heavy.  I have finally been convinced in my own heart and mind of the rightness of my calling.  I was always open to being wrong.  That is why it took so long to arrive at this place.  I needed the knowledge, the logic, to match my heart.

Only a little more than a year ago,  I found the logic.  I became convinced by this idea that we will all answer to God.  I had been thinking about it wrong all these years.  The burden did not rest on me alone to somehow prove I was worthy of this biblical calling.  The burden of proof would also be on those who would try to silence me.  In other words, those who would silence women called to preach,  called to proclaim the saving power of Jesus Christ, they have to answer to God.  In the same way,  I will stand before God and give an account of my own silence during the call. 

I can be silent no longer.  There are hungry people everywhere that need the salvation only our Saviour can give.  In our world where helpless people are tortured in the mountains of foreign lands and we sell children for a price into lives of unspeakable evils and despair,  we need more voices to proclaim the gospel.  As atheism gains a voice, there must be other preaching voices proclaiming hope and salvation. 

It has been a long time coming.  But amen and amen- I know that I know that I know I am hear to proclaim the good news to the captives. Here I am Lord, send me. 

Why I Sing Hymns, Still

Victory in Jesus my savior for ever . . .

Nanny stands in the door of her church swinging her beads around and with one hand with the other hand lifted high in praise. My little brother stands next to me with his little eyes squeezed shut belting out the words. The memories are with me and fade in and out each time I sing this song. There are a lot of hymns in my church history.

He bought me and sought me with his redeeming blood. . .

My walk with God is not just about this moment in time right now. My walk with God, now, is a summation of people and moments who have shaped and inspired my walk with God. To be reminded of my Nanny swinging her beads is to be reminded of how she worshiped and how she prayed. Taking me back to those moments in time through the power of song grounds me in my faith and my faith history. It reminds of who I am and where I have come from. It is my heritage of faith.

He loved me ere I knew him and all my love is due him . . .

When I am anywhere and hear the song Victory in Jesus or any of a very long list of hymns and choruses, my history appears before me and accompanies my worship. I may get tears in my eyes because I am reminded of many moments between me and God. Singing these songs during worship is not just about this moment in time, the time in which I am singing, it is a culmination of my worshiped moments. Singing songs from our history embeds our past experiences in our current worship moment, embodying a new lived experience, connecting the then, the now, and the not yet. Singing songs that have shaped our faith history opens the door for God to speak in this moment through my history.

The hymns of the faith are, for me, part of my worship history. They are powerful players that invite me to worship. When at least one familiar song is absent from a service, I leave feeling ungrounded and disconnect from my own faith, like I have only partially worshiped.

Remembering grandmother, her beads, and her powerful faith empowers my worship, connecting my faith history and my evangelistic future. I can stand on a legacy of faith and not one emotion filled moment that is only about my now.

He plunged me through victory beneath the cleansing flood.

Googling God's Will

I was recently asked a very serious question.  A question that could change the course of my life and career.  

It kept me up at night for 6 weeks.  I did all the right things-or the things I was taught.  I prayed.  I sought the council of many wise people who loves me and know me well.  Read my Bible.  Took long walks.  Meditated.  

Still,  there was no clarity.  (Or, maybe I could not hear the answer because I had my fingers in my ears.)

So,  I Googled the question I was wrestling with.   I really did this.

I Googled God's will for my life.  It was about as helpful as the old Magic Eight Ball that we would shake to get answers when we were kids.  (You can Google Magic Eight Ball if you don't know what it is.)

I did learn some facts from the Google search,  but, ultimately, it did not help me get any closer to my decision.  

Imagine-something Google cannot do.

 

The truth is my decision (if you can call it that) came from time and the time honored path of paying attention and listening, to God, myself, and those who love me. 

mrp

I Have Decided To Follow Jesus

I have sung this song thousands of times while standing in church.

I have decided to follow Jesus
I have decided to follow Jesus 
I have decided to follow Jesus 
No turning back
No turning back

If anyone has a reason to dislike this song it is me.  My parents were evangelists for the first six years of my life.  It was the 70's, and we did Revivals.  Back then, revivals ran all week.  Yes, full church services every night.  (I guess soccer practice was less demanding, and there were no DVRs because people came.)

The world behind me; The cross before me
The world behind me; The cross before me
The world behind me; The cross before me
No turning back
No turning back

We sang this song every night  for an invitation (The invitation is the part of the church service where you ask people if they want to follow Jesus.)  Billy Graham used it in his revivals, and so did we.    Even after we left evangelism, I went to church 3-4 times every week,  and we still sang this song and watched  people streamed down the isles tward Christ.


Tho' none go with me, I still will follow;
Tho' none go with me, I still will follow;
Tho' none go with me, I still will follow;
No turning back
No turning back

I love this song.  This song is not so en vogue as it was; we have choruses and other popular songs to sings.  Many churches do not give formal invitations, so maybe there is less of a need for this song.   Many churches try to avoid the old way of doing things because it seems new songs and methods are more appropriate.

But, this is still one of my favorites.  It stirs a deep place in me.

Maybe the songs stirs a deep place in me because it is deeply connected to my childhood, a lullaby of sorts.  Maybe I am partial to it because it is good to remind myself, aloud, of  that to which I am fully committed.  In my world where the phone beeps and dings telling me of my next appointment or the latest news,  I am still committed to this one main thing.

This one thing, He, has not moved, and,
me, I have not moved-
only the rest of the world is moving.

When searching the Internet for additional facts about this song,  I did not see this verse anywhere:

My cross I'll carry til I see Jesus
My cross I'll carry til I see Jesus
My cross I'll carry til I see Jesus
No turning back 
No turning back 

Maybe one of the country churches I was in made it up.  But,  I know we sang this verse.

For me, singing songs that have a deep history as part of my faith,  connects me instantaneously to all the moments in my life when I have sung this song.  This simultaneously grounds me and moves me forward.

Think of this way,  when you hear a bad 80's song in the mall while shopping,  you remember why you no longer wear fluorescent pink string ties and tie dye jeans.  You then put down the skinny jeans with zipper at the bottom, which have made a come back, and you buy something more practical while still humming the old song you don't even like because that song is part of your historical time and space.

Interestingly,  we recently sang I Have Decided To Follow Jesus  at my current church while giving a formal invitation.  People came streaming down the isles toward Christ.

Maybe that is why I like this song.

Church Words and Tears

"I don't know the words, mama, " my six-year-old looks up at me wiping the tears from his eyes. I hug him and sit on the pew next to him while everyone else keeps singing. I did not know the words to this one either. It happens. He has just started to read and wants so badly to know all the words. He wants to participate in worship. He loves music and he knows music. He reads music already. For the next song, I sit next to him, and I tell him the words that are coming up and he sings along, smiling from ear to ear. He nods his head to the tune and sings loudly, so do I. It is good to know the words for worship.

Lent Inverted - Giving when it hurts

"The point of Lent is for your sacrifice to remind you of Christ's sacrifice. So, as long as the task reminds you of Christ's sacrifice for you and reminds you of your sin and need for repentance, I think that would maintain the spirit and purpose" said Vicki Vaughn, a spiritual guide who is an expert in spiritual formation. I had been toying with this idea for many days before Lent and even a few days after it started. This confirmed the legitimacy of my idea and moved me forward. So this year, I am doing lent upside down, or inverted. Instead of giving something up, I have added one more thing to my to do list. For me, as for many of us, adding one more thing to the list is a sacrifice of my time and maybe even a little sleep. Certainly, every time I participate in this activity, I will be reminded of my need to follow Christ's leading in my life. So as I sit and write this blog many days into the Lenten season, I participate in a moment of obedient sacrifice, giving this moment to God, knowing I am in great need of his grace. Other tasks go undone, and I am forced to focus Christ alone. To the gift of Himself I answer in the giving of myself and my time, making myself available to his presence and his call.

We, The Church

We, The Church, do solemnly promise to embrace the name church. We understand that we, the people of God, ARE the church and that God has called us to come together as a community to act like the church to perform the function of the church. We will open our doors and our hearts to all those who enter seeking, searching, wandering lost and hungry for the things of God. We are the people of God who, by his Grace perform the functions of the body of Christ through his Church. Our church will call itself a church so we will be the the City on the Hill and the Light to the world. The lost and lonely will know they can come here and find God. We are Jesus' Church. We will honor him and his name for us, the church. There will be no doubt where we stand and to whom we kneel.

Dear God, help us to know and do your will embracing all you have for us as his church never wavering in our determination and faithfulness to hear your voice and follow your way. May we focus only on you in this worship space. We invite you here. Amen.

Fending off Buffalo And Never Backing Down

She barks bravely and furiously,
doing her job. Loud and deep,

the sound continues on and on.

She does not back down.

The big brown beast stands too close to her territory
- to her domain - the one she is called to defend.

...Instinctively,

she knows who she is and why she is on this earth...

It is bred into her;
she cannot ignore it.

The angry brown 2000 pound buffalo does not even make her flinch.
She will do what she is called to do

- no matter what.

Yes, a week ago, my dog took on a buffalo, and the buffalo almost took her on until he was herded back toward his field via police escort.

See Anatolian Shepherds and Great White Pyrenees are bred to protect and defend flocks of sheep and goats, mostly, traditionally. It is what they do. They know this is what they do, and my dog is a mix of these two breeds. She did not herd the buffalo that day; she is not a Collie. Herding is not her job. She barked and defended.

She never backed down, sure of her calling.

Daily, she stays between my son and the backyard fence at all times, doing her job. At 85 pounds, she has a presence. She romps and plays, but she is never off duty. . .never.

She will stop in the middle of a game with her face half buried in the sand to protect her perimeter, and most days, she is protecting us from joggers she does not know or the next door neighbor's Chihuahua that likes to sneak out of the house.

But, that day, she barked and barked, angering the buffalo and doing her job -
protecting...defending...

confident...fierce...and true...

She was ready . . .sure of her calling.

Ode to the Canyon - The Laity Lodge Retreat

The minnows nibble on my toes in the cold water. That is why I come here. I come hear because the water and the canyon speak. Inhaling the Frio is inhaling the spirit of God and I feel him from head to toe. The water that ripples over my feet heals me and I can listen deeply. Here, I am free to write. I am filled up with the magnificence in nature – feeling the awe and feeling me, small – this is reason to go to Laity Lodge in the Canyon, to be filled up and to let go.

"poetry is the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility" - William Wordsworth

Laity Lodge Writer's Retreat

Doing Doxology

I have read about monks and other people who spend their lives in simple holiness. They talk about doing praise and every act of life as an act of celebratory worship of God, nature, and all that is. I have read how a monk sees slicing bread or pulling weeds in the garden as an act of worship and a chance for celebration.

For me cooking and weed pulling does not usually foster thoughts of happiness, praise, or worship. I consider it a good day if I am not complaining aloud for all to hear.

Ann Voskamp raises this question in her beautifully written blog post, "Does it always come down to just two ways to do life? Do doxology – or do destruction."

In every moment I have two choices: to embrace the moment for all that it is. . . or resist it with negative destructive words and actions (or thoughts). I get to choose my response. I want to breathe life into others and into myself.

Knowing and Doing

Sometimes, I am pretty sure we know what God has asked us to do, but we keep asking him just to be sure he meant what he said . Or, we wax philosophical - " well God could not mean that because... " Or, we fain armchair psychology, " God is not a voice in my head. I just made this up because my grandmother. . ."
But really, we know. We often know that we know, but we don't do.
We should follow those knowings. Instincts - voices from the deep that call us to do good and right.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Hobbling Hopefully

I am sitting in the coffee shop. Austin Java – a rather hip Austin spot. They have good egg tacos and hot green tea, so I am here. Two old women have just hobbled in on their walkers, and I see the wisdom in their faces. I start to cry because I have been considering my grandmothers, their lives and their passing, already this week. Me Maw and Nanny, they so shaped me. I have always valued old people and their stories, even since I was a child. Maybe because my grandmothers told me stories, sang me songs, taught me to read, shuck corn, and feed the chickens. Someday, I too will hobble, hopefully with wisdom and grace. Sometimes, our work is remembering.

What are you remembering today?

Returning to The River

I spent a great deal of my youth at the river, the Frio River. It is cyrstal clear and cold as the name suggests. I recently returned to the Frio and spent some time with my feet in the water. Sitting and staring at the minnows nibbling on my toes makes me feel deeply connected to the earth and to my life. I remember; I dream; I feel. More importantly, I am still and I feel the sun. This river runs through me. It links my past and my present. I sat in this same spot with my grandma before I can even remember. My time at this river always gives life. It even saved my life once. Water can do that. Healing and cleansing the river runs. It takes the things that need to go and mixes the old and the new to gives us a type of newness.

Sometimes, we need to return to the things that feed us.
What feeds you?

In Disaster We Are At Our Best

In disater, we, humans, are at our best because we focus on the essential, life. In moments of disater and disarray, we focus; we respond to each other. We hug strangers, rescue women and children, and help people we don't know. I pray that we can bring this focus and response to our daily life. Lots of people need rescuing. Just look around. I have to go see my neighbor now.

Wishing you focus and someone to wipe your tears.

Getting to Jesus

My son did a school project. In it he was asked, "why did the shepheards follow the star?" He replied, "They wanted to get to Jesus." This phrase stands out to me because we always say "they wanted to see Jesus." But, I think getting to Jesus is the thing we most want to do. Seeing him from a distance is okay, but I imagine myself and the shepheards wanted to experience Jesus. Getting implies being involved with him and participating with him in his work. Seeing him implies that we want to see him from afar but not really touch him or experience him. Getting to Jesus - that is thing.

Sometimes Dancing is Our Work

Watch 200 people dance in a Belgium Train station. There is nothing like the sound of music.
Take time and to see what the world can be. Maybe we just need to switch our focus. If we could all dance in the trains station. . .maybe the world could change. Smiling children in a public display of happiness. . .now there is a focus. It's All in a days work.




If you notice, even the dance moves combine modern hip-hop styles with pinkies in the air tea drinking motions. This old versus new becomes a more obvious combination when the music itself switches and the macarena moves come out. Being where we are. . .as we go. . .it is tempting to long for the past, which we romanticize, but we must embrace this moment and create existence (and perspective) now. Or, maybe we should just dance in the train station.

To His Purpose or Fever in My Hands

When I was thirteen, I walked down the aisle of my church wearing my favorite yellow dress. I almost ran. I shook deacon's hand with fervor and said, "I am dedicating my life life and work to Christ." I had been down the isle the first time when I was 4 years old. But on this day of the yellow dress, I knew that my desire and existence had merged and I became a doer in the ways of Christ.

"What school will you attend?" he asked. Seeing my puzzled look, he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "there is plenty of time for that." (At thirteen I was unaware there was a distinct formula in Baptist life when you wanted to serve God as a"calling.") My heart knew then, and my head knows now that we abide in him and he abides in us.

We serve because we are made ready to serve. . . where ever we are. As we look for what our hands find to do, we can read, here, together about our wandering paths and His purposeful hands. Joining the Higher Calling Blogs Network is a way to share life, work, and faith with others who mingle these things together in various ways.

Today, I do not know which way the wind will blow, and most days I am sure I am missing something important, especially since I grew up in the era of the street evangelist with Bibles and the Roman's Road tracts in their hands. ( I really miss the orange stickers. Does anyone else remember those?)

Joining the conversation,

Melody

500 Calories A Day

I have a neighbor at the end of my street. She is old and lives by herself. She was without a refrigerator suddenly, so I took her dinner while she waited for her new one. I walked into her yard holding the bag of groceries ready to eat. She hugged me with great abandon, " It is so nice of you to think of me, but I can't eat this." It was chicken and rice and bread. "I only eat 500 calories a day. Oatmeal and dry toast in the morning, and my Healthy Choice dinner in the evening. I have to watch my weight." She took another drag from her cigarette. "It means so much that you brought me food." She held my hand.

She is not overweight, not at all. I looked her in the eye and explained why no adult person can live on 500 calories a day. She responded, "I eat my vegetables." I pushed, but I quickly realized there was no talking to her about this. I was tempted to call her son to see if he knew about this. I was concerned for her life.

I walked away frustrated at her. "How can she live? This has to change." I said to myself, but I was powerless to change her. She had made up her mind.

I, too, make up my mind and refuse to listen to others, sometimes.





Wisdom is supreme; therefore get wisdom. Though it cost all you have, get understanding.
Proverbs 4:7

Little Light of Mine

We were late to school today. A late long night caught in a tornado warning. . .standing in the bathroom of a convenience store. . .caused us to be up late. . .

My son starts every school day with chapel. (I should be so lucky.) He sings songs to Jesus first thing every morning. Today, I sat next to him. In the back of the church, we sat hearing voices bounce off the wooden ceiling while being dimly lit by the stained class windows that point heavenward.

Asa smiled and raised his finger in the air to sing "This little light of mine." I started to put my finger up. . .then. . . I paused thinking," I am too old to raise my little light."
Then, I balked. . .catching myself in the real issue. . .

a life lived in political correctness inside a world that is not kind to people who show their light.

I raised my finger and choked on the loss of my childlike boldness. I raised my little light.