RICK’S BLOG


PRIME OBJECTIVE

PRIME OBJECTIVE

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As THE ALLEY THEATRE, here at Central, puts up each production in the season, I watch all the players onstage and the crew backstage as they prep, rehearse and polish. I really enjoy theatre, as I have for most of my life. It is a reflection of life, and a teaching tool like none other. But everyone must know their roles clearly, even those who aren’t “actors”.

I’ve watched certain characters play their roles as they moved on and off the stage during other productions in other companies.  At one somewhat moving and emotionally charged drama I started analyzing exactly what it was that caused me to find certain players “riveting” while others were simply “fine”. What I found was the actors who understood their characters’ “prime objective” and acted accordingly were the most interesting to follow. Every acting decision was precise, they moved with authority, clarity and purpose. The others were merely reciting their lines.

For an actor, the “prime objective” is what drives the action of the character they are playing. One character’s PO (prime objective) might be to “get the girl”, and everything that actor does, even those things unrelated to “getting the girl”, stem from the PO. There may be “minor objectives” along the way, for instance: avoiding another character or pretending to be someone they are not, but the PO is still the driving force for the character, it is the definition of that character, it gives the character purpose and meaning and sets the character’s priorities. A character’s PO allows for that character and others to “connect”, emotionally, onstage…and that human depth of connection is what separates good theatre from great theatre.

What is YOUR LIFE’S “Prime Objective”? Do you have an overriding purpose that defines your direction in life? Most people do…although they don’t realize it. A Prime Objective may define itself FOR you, if you’re not careful.  Is your life directed by just trying to survive? Is your Prime Objective to enjoy every minute, at all costs? Is your Prime Objective to feel secure by having your life arranged, filed and your bank filled?

For those of us who follow Jesus as the Way, the Truth and the Life…He has told us what our Prime Objective is: “to know God.” (John 17:3 “This is forever life, that they may know You, the One True God, and the One You have sent – Jesus the Messiah.”)   The direction to “get to know God” comes from a “Stage Director” who understands clearly that if “knowing God” is our Prime Objective, then all other objectives, relationships, and plot twists, will fall into place and everything else will be put into perspective. This “Spiritual Stage Director” understands that “knowing God” is a lifetime pursuit, a grand plan, an energizing force…and so, the “life” is found in the journey.

The danger for any actor is NOT choosing or knowing what their character’s Prime Objective is…when that happens, they are at the mercy of the other actors onstage, they are at the mercy of the script…they wander in uncertain circles…and the audience soon forgets they were even onstage during the show.

Again I ask, what is YOUR Prime Objective in life? Whatever it is, it will define every scene, every relationship and every outcome…even to the final curtain. My advice…listen to the Director and LIVE the story, as opposed to just being IN the story.


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We have 2 cats whose home we share: Mr. Blu and Delores.  Mr. Blu is probably about 17-years-old, a male.  Delores is 6-years-old, and female.  I’d like to say that we “rescued/adopted” them, but they would probably say it’s the other way around.

They both have a limited vocabulary…Mr. Blu mumbles, and Delores is mainly silent…until around 2:00am when she begins “singing the song of her people” as she tries, and succeeds, in opening random drawers.  But with both felines, it’s not the words but the inflection, tone and decibel-level that really tells you what they are trying to say.  Learning to translate that and “hear” them has taken many years and still I, for one, am learning.

Mr. Blu is LARGE, and usually obsessed with eating.   If I’m in the kitchen, he wants food…if I come in the door from anywhere at any time, he wants food…if I’m eating, he wants food.  At least that’s what it seems like.  Delores, on the other hand, could usually care less if either of us are home…except that she really does like everyone to be in the same room.

I’ve had some epiphanies with the cats over the years. If I’m in the home office working or studying, Delores will come back there and snooze close by.  Sometimes Mr. Blu will come in also and sit as closely as possible and stare, silently, with those his cat eyes.

One time he did that, even getting up on his haunches and reaching out to pat my arm at the chair.  It was NOT time for him to eat. (with his “eating disorder”, you have to be very strict about the “snack” times…or he could eventually fill the entire house).  But, being the kind and beneficent human I am, I decided it was alright to get him some “kitty treats”, so I rose out of the chair.

Now usually, he knows exactly what that means, and races, faster than an animal of his size should be able, ahead of me to his food dish in the pantry…I usually watch where I’m putting my feet so that I don’t trip over him on the way.  But this time he raced right past the pantry, the kitchen, and into the living room.

Hmmm…could it be that he was telling me that he wanted to be in there?  It seems so.  All he wanted was a little attention. 

Delores, when I return home from anywhere, immediately races to greet me; rolling happily on the floor close to the garage door.  Now you have to realize that Delores is NOT a “lap cat” she doesn’t like to be picked up or held…but, at a distance…she will be happy if I am close by.

There are times, with both Mr. Blu, and Delores, one of them will come up beside one of us and pat the arm with a paw, just wanting to get some attention  – before curling up somewhere close and falling fast asleep.

 And so, THIS is what I have learned about myself & God from Mr. Blu & Delores:

  • They aren’t always able to clearly translate their needs. Neither am I.
  • Sometimes they just needs reassurance that we are there. Sometimes I need that from God.
  • And, most importantly, when humans may think they are self-sufficient, these felines, Blu & Delores, KNOW WHO provides the food, who loves, and who cleans the litter box – they are not at all confused about that…and they go directly to the source.

Right there is the greatest lesson in trust; THEY know to go to the source…do I?

Mr. Blu & Delores get lonely when their humans, their caregivers, aren’t there.  I know that because sometimes they THINK they’re alone and start “yeowling”/”crying”.  All I have to do is call the name of whichever one is crying out and they come running, happy tail up…THEY know the source of their contentment, security, provision and love.

Do I?  Do you?


IMAGINATION

IMAGINATION

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Imagination is funny, it makes a cloudy day sunny

Makes a bee think of honey just as I think of you 

Imagination is crazy, your whole perspective gets hazy

Starts you asking a daisy “What to do, what to do?” 

Have you ever felt a gentle touch and then a kiss

And then and then, find it’s only your imagination again?

Oh, well 

Imagination is silly, you go around willy-nilly

For example I go around wanting you

And yet I can’t imagine that you want me, too. 

This song, by Jimmy Van Heusen & Jimmy Burke, is a favorite song of mine. I am a big fan of these songwriters and others like them, from that time and place. And I’m a big fan of the concept of “imagination”.

IMAGINATION (Oxford English Dictionary):

  1. the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects, not present to the senses.
  2. the ability of the mind to be creative or resourceful
  3. the part of the mind that imagines things

Personally, IMAGINATION is the tool I use the most for creating, arranging, designing, writing and teaching/preaching.  I need to “see the final product” (which hasn’t yet occurred or been constructed) before it is built or composed. I need to form ideas from things I’ve seen and haven’t seen. As an only child, my IMAGINATION was necessary to keep me busy, and I developed and polished it early on, which is what makes it such an important tool for me now.

Teachers, through my years of Elementary and Secondary Schools, continually wrote on my report cards that I “had a very active imagination”, and they didn’t always mean that in a GOOD way.  And many more knowledgeable people than I have seen the IMAGINATION as a threat to doctrine and religion. Some communities of faith and disciplines have considered the mind’s IMAGINATION a thing to be avoided, as it is the tester of free will, which often would lead a Follower & Believer astray from the solid Truth of God (in their opinion). After all shouldn’t we, they say, rely on what we see and know…which, I should point out here, is contrary to entire concept of FAITH.

Is IMAGINATION truly a bad thing when it comes to our spiritual lives, our hearts, and the very Light inside that is God-In-Us? Is it a bad influence on the way we behave as representatives of the One True God? Historically there are arguments on both sides.  Joan of Arc is said to have been confronted by the Church, as they were confounded by her “unorthodox” structure of belief, and that God spoke to her directly. They saw her only as a female child, and yet, her success was contrary to what they believed should be the result of a person like her. In the movie about her life, “MESSENGER”, she is asked if the voice she hears is not her IMAGINATION. She answers that indeed it is, for that is how God speaks to her. Although this quote is somewhat apocryphal, the true Joan said this same sort of thing often in different forms.

This is what I believe about IMAGINATION, God, and us: I believe that our God-Given IMAGINATION is not used enough. I believe that our IMAGINATIONS bring us close to this Truth: God will use whatever language necessary to speak directly to our hearts and restore us.

I believe that FAITH requires the use of a good and continually exercised IMAGINATION, to know “…the reality of what is hoped for, the proof of what is not seen…” (HEBREWS 11:1). I believe that anyone who claims to have NO IMAGINATION is fooling themselves. Our IMAGINATIONS are used every day, one way or another.

I also believe, like everything, IMAGINATIONS can be poorly used.  Jesus talks about bad use of our IMAGINATIONS constantly. He calls it WORRY (IMAGINATION gone rogue).

“Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” (MATTHEW 6:24) 

“Whenever you are arrested and brought to trial, do not worry beforehand about what to say. Just say whatever is given you at the time, for it is not you speaking, but the Holy Spirit.”
(MARK 13:11)
 

“And don’t be concerned about what to eat and what to drink. Don’t worry about such things.”
(LUKE 12:29)

Isn’t WORRY just an active IMAGINATION gone bad? Isn’t it just IMAGINATION without boundaries or focus? Or maybe it’s focused in the wrong direction. You can IMAGINE the good or the bad, it’s your choice. But Jesus says that WORRY not only doesn’t add “one hair to your head”, but is proven to actually, scientifically, to shorten life, along with taking the joy away.

Once again, I don’t believe we use our IMAGINATIONS enough. They may be filtered through our culture, our nurturing and education, along our journey of life.  But IMAGINATION can also be powerful and beautiful. IMAGINE the answer to prayer. “But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.” (JAMES 1:6) Isn’t that what belief truly is, IMAGINING the answer, seeing what hasn’t happened yet?

OF COURSE we are influenced by our own paradigms and environment, just as every other saint who walked the earth has been, and that is why we ask God to protect us from ourselves. That is when we rely on the Spirit of God to do what the Spirit is promised to do: lead us into all truth. (JOHN 16:13).  

I should only speak for myself, but I know that IMAGINATION is one of the greatest tools in my own personal doctrine and belief that I cannot imagine my world without it. IMAGINATION is powerful enough, with the Spirit, to change situations, events and life entirely. Like the song says, “…it makes a cloudy day sunny.” 


UP FROM THE GRAVY, A ROSE

UP FROM THE GRAVY, A ROSE

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So, I grew up in church.  We went to Highland Church of God in Kennewick, Washington every time the door was open.  Dad directed the choir and sang, Mom was the Church Secretary and a member, sometimes Chair, of the Women’s Missionary Society.  We had worship on Sunday Mornings, Sunday Evenings, and Wednesday evenings (followed by choir practice).  It was, as they say, “formative in my construct”.

Yes, I enjoyed the Bible study, the good preaching, and the incredible (what we say in “Christianese”) “fellowship”.   But at the top of my list of “things I love about church and worship” and what kept me going even when I didn’t want to, was…musicI loved the music, and I grew up in a VERY musical church.  We sang, at least 500 hymns each Sunday (so it seemed), each Sunday night, and each Wednesday evening.  The personnel of our choir, our Junior Choir, our Youth Band, and instrumentalists made up almost 50% of the entire congregation.

Music was, for me at least, the language of God.

However, as a young child, I sometimes found the “theology-filled” lyrical phrases nonsensical to my small mind…and so I would adapt them to what I thought they said, and what would fit with my personal rudimentary theology.

Case in point: “With our jellied toast proclaim, Christ is born in Bethlehem!”

You know that familiar phrase from “HARK! THE HERALD ANGELS (“Harold’s Angels” as opposed to “Michael’s Angels”, I suppose) SING!”  Now, ask anyone who knows me well and they will say that one of my favorite, and almost daily, foods (other than God’s most perfect creation: bacon) is toast.  I’ve loved toast since before I could speak.  I can’t imagine a more perfect food for angels than toast with jelly!  And when would they be most likely to celebrate with toast and jelly?  CHRISTMAS!  It all made sense to me.

“Bringing in the cheese” was another one I loved.

It was YEARS before I knew what a “sheave” was (even though I lived in farming country), and still wasn’t sure what that had to do with the song.  But “cheese”?! Well, yeah!  It’s another favorite food…and I find it TOTALLY understandable why someone would “come rejoicing, bringing in the cheese”…who wouldn’t?!

 The mistaken lyric that made my mother laugh so hard she choked on her coffee, however, was “Up from the gravy, a rose.” which I recall fondly each Easter – as well as the one recently passed.  Now think about this doctrinal picture: out of a gooey mess, something beautiful.  That’s what Easter is all about isn’t it?  Never mind WHY there would be a rose in a bowl of gravy, just go with it.  That’s what I thought I heard, and definitely what I sang.  And in my six-year-old theology it made perfect sense…

 …until I knew better.

Aside from the obvious “food allusions” in each of these mistaken lyrics (my counselor is helping me through that obvious Freudian debacle) there is a lesson here about God growing as we grow.

 People, and sometimes especially those who identify as “Christians”, don’t ever want to admit what they HAD believed was wrong.  They don’t want to admit as they have since realized more, learned more, understood more, grown more …their minds have changed.  There are simply many folks who stop learning and cling to what they first understood…even when it doesn’t make sense with everything else God says.

Were those hymn lyrics EVER “with our jellied toast proclaim”?  No, they never were – the lyrics never changed.  Did I, as a small child, misunderstand the “intent” of the lyric?  No, I understood completely that the angels were happy and proclaiming the birth of Jesus…but as I grew, my understanding grew, and in my eyes and mind the lyrics grew as well.

 God, our Father, started with a group of slaves from Egypt who knew, vaguely, of Yahweh – but not in a mature way.  He proposed a covenant with them (“I will be your God.  You will be My people), containing ten precepts.  They are simple, they are rudimentary, and they are the type of rules one would give a small child.  (Example: “Don’t run in the hall with the scissors.”) But as generations grew, failed, grew, failed, and grew – up to this generation of “we”…the understanding of God/Yahweh and ourselves has become more precise, more detailed, deeper, and more subtle.  As the Apostle Paul would say, “we went from MILK to MEAT”.  Did God change?  No.  But WE did.

When an individual makes the choice to BELIEVE that God indeed exists, that Jesus is His Son, and that He is present to love, protect, and preserve (“sozo” = “save”) us….and then chooses to FOLLOW that Good Shepherd and King, relinquishing all personal rights in allegiance to Him…then that person starts to grow (hopefully).  As that person grows, they will begin to see God differently, more fully.  They will, inevitably, discover their preconceived ideas of who HE is and who THEY are may be wrong.  And now they have another choice: Do I let my PRIDE rule, or do I let my KING rule?

Unfortunately, too many denominations, theologies, and people have let their pride rule – using the excuse: “God doesn’t change.”  And they are correct, HE doesn’t, but WE do.  His words are constant, though He will sometimes speak to us as a child, and sometimes not explain things that are beyond our understanding. But other times He will bring us close and reveal His quietest thoughts…and THOSE conversations are different than the conversations with a child…because of OUR understanding, not HIS.

I have realized that I need to learn something new every day, to grow my mind and to temper my ego.  When those lessons come into conflict with what I BELIEVED was true, then I should change, and I should admit that my understanding THEN was faulty.

Maya Anjelou’s words echo the scripture, because ALL truth comes from God, and HE alone chooses who will speak it…and THIS is truth: “Do the best you can until you know better. Then when you know better, do better.”

“Up from the gravy, a rose.” might be a very picturesque way of describing the core of Easter Life Lessons…but it is inaccurate, next to the actual lyric.  Once I discovered that, leaving my misinterpreted lyric behind was bittersweet.  But as a child of the King, I have a responsibility to “do better” when I “know better” – and I also have the responsibility to carry the flashlight of Truth (“alethea”) in all places, in all times.

My personal prayer is: To always admit when I have learned better, and to apologize if I have stated or taught something contrary to the more accurate Truth.

We are not the Hebrew slaves.  We have the benefit of years, scripture, and the Holy Spirit.  Let’s not “stay in the grave” but continue to move forward, to learn, to change, and to humbly grow along the journey from lowland to highland, as we follow the Good Shepherd.

When I was a child, I spoke like a child,
I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child.
When I became a man, I put aside childish things.
For now we see indistinctly, as in a mirror,
but then face to face.
Now I know in part, but then I will know fully,
as I am fully known.

PAUL, to the Church in Corinth – and to us.
I CORINTHIANS 13:11-12


NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH

So, one of my Birthday gifts, some years ago, was the complete set of an “old-time” television show.  Now BEFORE I tell you what the show is, you need to know that even as a small child I was watching RE-RUNS of this show and NOT the originals.  It’s PERRY MASON, the show that sparked my interest in courtroom and crime dramas and mysteries (thus feeding my longtime obsession with LAW & ORDER…any of the franchises!).

Perry was always so calm and cool, his deductive and reasoning gifts were almost supernatural, his suits were “cool”, his hair was “cool”…his Secretary (Della) was “cool” and his detective (Paul) was very “cool”.  The guilty fell apart under his gaze, Judges bowed to his wisdom, and even his longtime adversary “Hamilton Burger” (Ham Burger…really?) had to accept that Perry was a worthy opponent.

Back then, in the black and white mid-century, it seemed that raising one’s right hand and swearing on a Bible (“I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth…”) was all that was needed (aside from Perry’s glare) to turn even the most practiced liar into a truth-telling paragon.  If only that really and truly worked.

 What if, every day before any one of us left the house, we placed our hands on the family Bible and said, “Today…I swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.”?  We, as Believers & Followers, shouldn’t need to do that.

“Now above all, my brothers, do not swear, either by heaven or by earth or with any other oath.  Your ‘yes’ must be ‘yes’, and your ‘no’ must be ‘no’, so that you won’t fall under judgment.” JAMES 5:12

Unfortunately even in (and sometimes, especially in) the Church the truth (outside of the scripture) gets used infrequently when members chat amongst themselves in and out of the sanctuary.  The Church is a community of people, and as such people will talk about people…it almost can’t be helped.  But in doing so, God has clear guidelines that sometimes get ignored.

GENEROSITY INSTEAD OF GOSSIP
JAMES, Chapter 3 has much to say about “taming the tongue”, including the difficulty of doing just that.  However, as Christians and “People of the Word”, our “words” must be right, just and true…especially when thinking and talking about others who are not present.

If you have ever played the game, “Gossip, Gossip” you know how easily the “truth” of the original language can get mangled in simple translation and communication between just a few people.  In PRAYER CHAINS alone, a person’s request for the healing of a “hang-nail” can end up being a brain tumor by the time the request is through.  And what about information that one hears outside the Church about a church member?  Should what one hears at the “Hair Salon” be taken as the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth?  Everyone likes a “juicy” story…but leave the passing on of that kind of information to the “world”…here, in the Kingdom of God, we don’t do that.

Be GENEROUS with your words, and kind.
Sometimes one has to be creative to counter bad gossip (which is usually only partially true, if true at all) with a positive statement…but our JOB as Believes & Followers of Jesus is that we BUILD ONE ANOTHER UP and not TEAR DOWN…whether we are speaking directly TO or ABOUT our brothers and sisters…fellow citizens of the Kingdom.

“Speak to one another with psalms, hymns and spiritual songs. Sing and make music in your heart to the Lord, always giving thanks to God the Father for everything, in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ.” EPHESIANS 5:19

 “Since you are eager to have spiritual gifts, try to excel in gifts that build up the church.”  I CORINTHIANS 14:12

“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another. By this all men will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.”  JOHN 13:34

“If you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.” is not a scriptural quote, because it’s not enough.  Jesus’ commands go beyond simply keeping silent, He WANTS you to speak up, speak to, and speak about people.  But He demands that you speak in LOVE: building each other up, turning away anger with a kind word, opening doors and not simply being a “fence” against lies – but being a proactive force against untruth, with words of love.

EDITING OUR LANGUAGE, or “And Nothing But The Truth”
Sometimes it’s difficult to edit what comes out of our mouths before it comes out, it takes practice, but once we “elaborate” on the truth we have created a false moment.  Once we take a bit of the truth (or hear it and pass it on) but “shade” and “color” it…we become no better than Satan himself  (who doesn’t lie “outright” as much as he twists the truth for his convenience).

The “lost” in this world will not be “rescued”  if the Church is lost as well.
Believers & Followers: when it comes to your fellow “family” tell the truth, the whole truth, AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH. 

When you hear a story that can’t be confirmed, SHUT IT DOWN AND DON’T PASS IT ON.

When you hear negative things said about someone you know in the church (true or not), counter with positive and SHUT IT DOWN, AND DON’T PASS IT ON.

Take EVERY opportunity to believe the best in people, assume their graciousness and goodness and not their bad sides (especially when airing your thoughts out loud to someone else).  And, as always here at Central, if you have a question or an issue with someone; before you talk about it BEHIND their back, talk to their face or don’t talk at all.  Let’s make sure that people around us know we who Believe & Follow will behave differently than the rest of the world.

I’m talking to myself here, as much as anyone else, since I have often been at the other end of misinformed talkers.  But if you think this message is specifically directed at you…it may be.

For the sake of those outside of the Kingdom of God, and for the sake of the building up of His strong Kingdom…speak “the truth, the whole truth and nothing but the truth…so help us, God.”

 


MY PERSONAL SOUNDTRACK

MY PERSONAL SOUNDTRACK

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The middle of my week always involves a little “mind focusing”; getting out of the home office and clearing my head.  So I eventually ventured out in “Mariska” (the Buick) and headed for the office.

So, the other day, I backed out of the driveway and started driving around doing some errands; dropping off, picking up, etc.  Once out on the road I realized that my “tunes” weren’t playing…and my mind adjusted accordingly.

I turned onto the “main drag”, avoiding a suicidal squirrel, in the middle of the road, staring at mearing me to hit him (her?)…I almost felt like aiming.  Then I started the search through my music lists.

I have an old iPHONE in my car, it contains MOST of my listening playlists; everything from Bach to Billy Joel.  It is magically connected to “Mariska”.  I searched until I came to my playlist titled: “SOUNDTRACKS”.

Now, some of you know this, because (unfortunately for you) you’ve sat through a film with me, in the theatre.  But I am a “movie-soundtrack junkie”.  I love film soundtracks, have my favorite composers, and have collected soundtracks in a playlist.  I thought, THAT’S what I want to listen to today.  I selected and pressed play.  (I DID manage to miss hitting Mr. Squirrel, I believe).  Music from GLADIATOR (Hans Zimmer, composer) began.  For those of you unfamiliar with the soundtrack, it is glorious and epic.  An unrealistically large symphonic orchestra with what must be 20-ton kettle drums and a thousand horns.  It is massive, majestic, soaring…and it reaches into my soul.

Suddenly, I was no longer a middle-aged, out-of-shape man driving to work.  I was a tall and strong, impervious, red-blooded male – guiding my gold-metal carriage of terror along streets that were suddenly beautiful and regal.  Any stray squirrels that happened in my path would be quickly dealt with.  If I had a broadsword in the passenger seat (and I HAVE before, I’m an actor) I would have put it in my left hand and held it high in the open window…all the way to the church office!

The music changed me that much.

In a way, I’m not surprised.  Film scores are the “sub-text” in every film.  Where there is action, music accelerates it.  Where there is deep emotion, music amplifies it.  Where there is deception, music names it.  And where there is completion, music crowns it.  And so it is with me.

And so it is with the Spirit.

I thought then, as I think now, much of the Spirit’s work is like music.  This Spirit; Comforter, Teacher, Counselor and Empowerer, “underscores” my life.  You notice, in the pathetic scenario above, no reality changed.  I WAS still driving past the normal scenery of Anderson.  What had changed was my vision, my foresight, and my confidenceBecause of my personal soundtrack, my outlook on present conditions changed.  In all that ride I was transformed from sad, depressed and blue…to joyful, energized and bold!

As a musician, music is the main language Jesus uses to speak to me – it may not be so for you.  But I know the Spirit is looking to “underscore” your life and change your perspective in whatever way you will listen.

Maybe it IS music.  If so, I highly recommend the soundtrack to GLADIATOR – just keep an eye on the speedometer, and don’t keep your broad-swords in the car.


CROSS FIT

CROSS FIT

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In my office at church I have a wall filed with crosses.  Some are big, some are small, some metal and some wood.  Some are hand-made, others a little more industrial.

When I moved into my office (2007) I had five crosses that I wanted to display, but that was too few to really know what to do with…so I went to a local craft/décor store, where there was a sale on “wall décor” (including crosses) and got the idea for a “wall of crosses” from their display…the beauty was in the way each item was a cross, but each significantly individual and unique…I purchased another five crosses to add to my collection.

Soon after, my Dad sent me two crosses that he had carved upon the occasion of me stepping into the pulpit at Central, I received a couple of “gift crosses” upon my installation and since then have received several more from weddings, etc.  I’ve also started collecting a cross when I travel, if I see an interesting one.  All that to say, my wall now is covered a bit and I’ll need to start moving crosses around to the next wall.  It looks like I’m trying to keep vampires out of the office, at this point.

As I write, I can look up and directly at the “cross wall” and see some beautiful crosses, some crosses that have a meaning because of who gave them, or where I purchased them…but they all have an “intrinsic” value because of their own beauty.

On one hand…The cross: an implement of torturous death.  Even the symbol of a cross could strike a deep and unfathomable fear in the people of Jesus’ day.  This method of execution was devised as to cause as much suffering as possible, while displaying the suffering as a warning to anyone else who might think of crossing the Roman government of the time.  The cross: a symbol, not only of state-sanctioned death, but state-sanctioned inhuman, horrific, torture. It is a symbol that Believers and Followers since have stared at daily without, perhaps, knowing the implications of such a symbol, or feeling the depth of terror that symbol would strike in all of our Believing and Following forebears.  To think that such a symbol would be carved with such love, worn as jewelry, and decorating a Pastor’s wall is almost morbidly-idiotic.

On the other hand God, the “Spiritual Rumplestiltskin”, as I like to call Him sometimes (He “turns straw into gold”) has taken the cross and actually re-created it as a thing of beauty, goodness and truth.  The mere fact that this instrument of torture and death, used on His own Son, has become a symbol for a beautiful gift of freedom and love is also unfathomable.  God, who takes the chaos and makes order, takes garbage and makes jewels, takes the broken things and makes them new…God, who currently is restoring the entire world to newness and prepping it for the Age to Come has done a wonderful thing with this cross.

We often hear, “Everything happens for a reason.”  Which (and I hate to burst anyone’s bubble), is not an accurate quote of scripture. Bad things are generally not something that God plans.  In fact the “reason” much, if not all, of the bad things in the world happen because we’re stupid and make BAD choices. THAT’s the “reason”.  What God does is take the bad and make it good.  God takes the tangle that we’ve created, and at our request, creates a tapestry.

Wasn’t the evilness of the cross part of God’s “plan”? The sacrifice that needed to be made by His Son was necessary.  Were the evil plans and thoughts of those who eventually led Jesus through the streets and to Golgotha all a part of God’s will?  Of course not, and neither were any of those people involved mere robots or puppets without a choice. God knew, because He exists “out of time”.  He could see what was GOING to happen (from our perspective of time) before it actually happened to us, and the evil became beautiful.  It is God to make “all things new”.  It is in His nature (and ours, for that matter) to “re-create”.

And so, I display my wall of crosses proudly.  This evil thing, this wicked idea to make another human suffer the pain and humility of inhuman death has been turned, as all things that are imperfect, wicked, twisted and evil will also turn.

When I look at my wall now, I try to remember the “journey” this cross made, from something designed to torture and kill, to something that is (for me, at least) a gate to the garden.


DANCE AS IF EVERYONE IS WATCHING

DANCE AS IF EVERYONE IS WATCHING

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PALM SUNDAY.  I have some wonderful memories associated with this day and time.  My Dad was the choir director at my home church, for several years, and Palm Sunday evening was often the performance of the annual CHOIR CANTATA (usually one by John W. Peterson…for all of you folks who remember his standards from church choir repertoire in the 1950s & ’60s).  Also, Mom was the resident playwright and director for some truly awesome church productions, complete with soldiers, disciples and angels.  As an only child, I was usually involved in all of that, just because if Mom & Dad were at the church, so was I.  Later, when I was writing music, Palm Sunday and Holy Week became the times when some of my own music was performed at worship…some of those pieces are still some of my personal favorites.

Then, of course, my all-time favorite PALM SUNDAY was more than three decades ago when my oldest son, Cameron, was born (I think that was the only time in my life I’ve missed a Palm Sunday Worship Service). 

It may be just me, but growing up in a church family and experiencing Palm Sunday processionals as a child, just as the weather was warming up, enjoying the “dramatic” and “musical” events…it was (and still is) like Christmas in that no matter what else is going on in the world, this is a time set aside for celebration.

One particular Palm Sunday, during my college days in Seattle when my irreverence during serious occasions was maturing, was quite amusing.  During our worship we began with a processional from the back; first the choir (I was a tenor, in the back row), children with palm branches, and then the Pastoral Staff who were all participating in the worship leading.  Most of the staff at the time (I was the Office Manager at this point) were young, and then there was a more mature woman on staff as well, as our professional Church Counselor.  We all took our places and the service began.  The Senior Pastor stepped to the pulpit and addressed the full sanctuary with words of greeting and led in a responsive reading (the usual, from the Gospels, recounting the Jerusalem processional).

Suddenly, jumping from her seat next to the song leader, our Counseling Pastor, during a calm part of the reading, quickly moved to the center of the platform and started, what seemed like, an odd sort of tap dance (on the carpet).  Everything stopped.  We stared, during what seemed like hours, trying to figure out if she was having some sort of Pentecostal moment (surely not), or spasm, (a very fun and rhythmic one, if that was it) or just what.  When suddenly a small girl in the front of the sanctuary jumped up and yelled excitedly, “A dance!” as she started clapping and “dancing” along with our Associate Pastor.

 Well, by that time, the confused congregation (especially those of us in the choir and close to the front) weren’t certain about what to do.  By that time our female Associate had stopped “dancing” and was watching the little girl.  She then moved down the couple of steps to the girl, took her hands and started to dance with her.  The pianist began to play the song we had just sung and some clapping began.  We began to get caught up in this strange, impromptu dance party, in the middle of what had been a carefully-planned worship service.

The whole thing lasted only a moment.  When the song ended everyone clapped, and our Associate moved to the pulpit to explain that one of the candles had lit a palm frond end on fire and a little ember had floated down to the carpet where it began to burn.  Our vigilant Associate was the only one who noticed.  Thereby, she jumped from her seat, scurried to the burning carpet and began stomping it out with her high-heeled feet.  It wasn’t apoplexy or the Holy Spirit…it was a small fire…which looked to us like a dance from a person for whom dancing wasn’t a part of her perceived nature.

But for that moment a misunderstood action turned into a spontaneous dance party and the agenda was set aside.

Two-thousand years ago, Jesus could have stopped the procession on the way to Jerusalem and given everyone a lesson in WHY He was entering Jerusalem, and WHAT He was going to do. But, for the crowds at least, He let it go, He let them celebrate.  They were misinterpreting what was going on, but Jesus didn’t stop the praise, and knew it was futile to try.  He also understood there is a time for everything, present circumstances don’t override expressions of joy.

In THE Kingdom, at least, there is ALWAYS a reason to dance.

That is, I guess, what the pageantry, music and drama of PALM SUNDAY and HOLY WEEK are for me.  No matter what else is going on in the world, and much of the world around us is in chaos, because of who HE is, and because of WHAT is certain and sure in our future…it IS appropriate to interrupt the agenda and dance.

So…dance as if everyone is watching.


ANNUAL "FERN SUNDAY"

ANNUAL “FERN SUNDAY”

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By request, I am recounting the story of “FERN SUNDAY” (an unofficial observance of my own; the Sunday before Palm Sunday – this coming Sunday, in fact.) 

First, I know this is ST. PATRICK’S DAY, but this is not a “ST. PATRICK’S DAY” story…it’s simply another “colorful” event I remember from my strange life; something to bring a smile and maybe provoke a thought or two during these weird times.  It’s a story of rebellion, of “church politics” and the seed of tradition…and it is set during LENT.

When I was a Freshman and Sophomore in College I had my first actual “church job” that didn’t involve my home church.  I was hired by a very wealthy congregation to be one of four section leader/soloists for their aging choir.  This was the first congregation I belonged to that was not the church of my family, nor was it the denomination I had grown up with.  It was a very enlightening (in a good way) experience for me, and my own formation as a Believer & Follower.

Being one of the few “young” people (read: anyone under 50) at this large and established congregation I gravitated to the other few who were close in age…one was another paid member of the choir, and one was his girlfriend who also attended.  We would gather after worship and chat/mock/chill in the mammoth, two-story, parlor behind the chancel area.

This church building was beautiful.  A former synagogue/temple, it had been “redeemed” as a Christian worship space with magnificent carvings, paintings, stained-glass windows, and an epic pipe organ.  The choir sat in the back balcony with the organist, and so could observe everything.  The worship was traditional to the extreme and well done, but a little stiff and stodgy.  The people were older, much older, than us, but warm, gracious, and very, very thankful for any youngsters that were in attendance, so we always got lots of love and food.

The congregation eased into LENT, a church observance I had NEVER experienced, so I paid attention to every fascinating detail of the “traditional mainline protestant” observance.

First off, the sanctuary was always filled with the most impressively large floral decorations I had ever seen in a sanctuary.  The first Sunday I sang in worship I had assumed there had been a wedding in the sanctuary the Saturday before, there was SO MUCH “flora” tucked into every conceivable place…but no, I quickly found out there was a “flower lady” who took great care each Saturday to deck the sanctuary like the Garden of Eden.  She had a well-known floral shop and used her buying power to procure everything we saw.  I honestly don’t know if she donated or charged the church, but I DO know she was a “force to be reckoned with” as she was in the choir, and also dictated which color stoles the choir wore on which Sunday.  She appeared to be the “Martha Stewart” of the congregation.

In any case, LENT arrived, suddenly and shockingly.  The sanctuary was stripped of greenery AND flowers.  I stood amazed at how large the sanctuary actually was when there wasn’t a forest taking up much of the space.  Dark purple decked the pulpit, the lectern, the windows, and the walls…but even with all of that, the place was “bare Lenten bones”.

The Flower Lady was not a fan of LENT.  She complained, starting on Ash Wednesday, and continuing throughout the 40-day observance, about the “sad music”, the “dull sermons”, and especially the “lack of beauty” (read: “flowers”).  The “youngsters” (me, and the other chosen few) for whom this congregation was new, appreciated the humor of her probably more than the saints who had been attending since the founding of America.  So, when she wasn’t amused, they weren’t either.

It seems that finally, on the Sunday before PALM SUNDAY, she’d had it.  We walked into the sanctuary (the choir was one of the first there each Sunday) to what looked like the bar at the local “Holiday Inn” (not that I ever was ever THERE, but I’d seen pictures): it was wood, brass and ferns, ferns, ferns…everywhere.

 Yes, it seems, without permission, she had taken it upon herself to ease the congregation back into the woodland glade that was the usual setting for us in the sanctuary.  The fact there were suddenly ferns in the sanctuary did not sit well with the Minister, the Board, or the other woman, who understood fully how LENT may be ruined for everyone if it wasn’t “plain and bare” up to PALM SUNDAY.  It began what turned into a yearly struggle (so I’m told, since I moved to Seattle the next year…but kept in touch.)

Oh, I didn’t tell you another important fact…her name was, appropriately, “Fern”.

And so, for me at least, the Sunday before PALM SUNDAY has always been “FERN SUNDAY”.  Here at CCC we have (well, I have) carried on that tradition and placed ferns out, to make sure we’re not all too shocked to worship on PALM SUNDAY when the palms are put out.

I don’t advocate stirring up trouble in church, especially by stamping on people’s traditions (unless moved to do so by the Spirit).  I also don’t advocate one person’s tastes and traditions over the traditions and tastes of the “community” (unless you’re the Pastor, then you can do whatever you want…just kidding).  But what amazes me most about this story is…that I’m telling it.  We put out ferns each Sunday before PALM SUNDAY…and all because of a woman who wouldn’t remember me from Adam, if she is still alive, which I doubt.  But here I am, changed, calling the Sunday before Palm Sunday “Fern Sunday” because of her, and something she did.

It reminds me of the power all of us have to affect the lives around us, for better or worse.  Every word we say, every action we take, is heard and observed…and in some cases, is absorbed.  Words are power, actions speak louder than words, and people are still the greatest influencers of other people.

Fern only impressed this great story on me, her actions and words are not something I aspire to…and, in a way, she taught me how NOT to speak or behave around others. But there are many other people whose words may have been fewer, and actions smaller) who have influenced me even more:

The sixth-grade kid who watched my fourth-grade play and told me I needed to be on stage…
I remembered that.

The shoe salesmen who sold me my first pair of “big boy” shoes, and called me “tiger”…
I remember that.

The first person who looked me in the eye and said, “I love you.”

And I will always remember the five people who greeted me that first Sunday I stepped through the doors of Central Christian Church in June of 2006.

The Spirit is changing the community of faith during this season, almost as if we were all in a cocoon.  I, for one, believe we will emerge with a new appreciation of each other’s smile and voice.  As we learn, during this time, what is truly important, I hope we hear the Scripture’s words about the effect we have on one another – through our words, our prayers, and our love.


OVER THE HILL

OVER THE HILL

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I am literally “feeling” my age these days of 2021 – especially now that I’m on the “other side of the hill”.  Desserts are now replaced with more-friends-than-food at my side, gifts are now the intangible, full moments past and present, decorations are the wrinkles, fat and grey hair that bear witness to all those past intangible, full moments…with thankfulness.

I, for one, am happy to know that I am reaching the point where I have lived longer than I will live in the future years (unless I live to be 126-years-old).  Having never been fearful of death, I don’t, at this point, have any desire to live longer than I should…and in fact, am happier to be the age I am than at any other time in my life.

God has been, is, and will been a friend to me, gone the “extra mile” and continues to shock me with His graciousness which I have still to figure out…as little as I have done for Him in return.

To be a Believer & Follower on the “other-side-of-the-hill” is to look back, to observe God and oneself from a distance, and continue to learn.

I climbed up the hill, aiming to reach the summit quickly…by travelling straight for it.

In my rush to reach the pinnacle, to “grow up”, I missed some beautiful sights.  Sure, I had the strength then to grab an outcropping of rock when I needed to and pull myself up.  Yes, I could look back at the sunset of each day and see what I had accomplished.  Sure,  it’s good to have goals, make a plan and work the plan, but along the way I may have passed up times I didn’t need to move so quickly.  In my effort to go, go, go…I have missed the goal completely sometimes.  God’s request that I love Him is played out by loving those He has placed in my path – and, unfortunately, sometimes the path was more important than those who took up space on the path.

I find that now that I’m on the other side going down instead of up, I zigzag – partially to keep from falling down!  

Now the path is just as steep, but I am going down, not up.  I’ve learned, there is more to be seen and experienced by not racing down the hill.  And the truth is, I’ll reach the bottom when the time is right, till then I should enjoy the path and the people on it…not going straight down but covering the entire width of the hill and all it has to offer.

When I climbed up, my goal was the summit.

Searching for a “mountain-top” experience was often the goal of my younger self.  Now I realize that those experiences happen, are serendipitous and not always a result of planning. I accept them and enjoy them when they come, but as I now see the valley below, I realize that every part of the hill has something to offer.  The path is of God’s creation, He has gone ahead of me, and it is cleared and made especially for me…who am I to deviate from His map?  Getting OVER the mountaintop is the actual goal…partially because the air is so thin at the top, no one could stay there for long.

As my younger self ascended the hill, I had no choice but to empty my pack of things that were too heavy. 

Now that I am over the summit, I’m finding that I do not even miss the things I threw out of my pack…and so, am only holding on to the things that might be helpful to someone else along the way.  I tend to be a hoarder, in part because the things I collect around me have meaning and are memory-holders.  But, in truth, middle age has brought me to the learning stage that tells me how little I need.  And also, my joy, my life, my journey is more fulfilling (once again) when I pay attention to the people on the path…and it’s good to have things with you which connect you with them.  That it may be something they need is just a part of why those things are necessary.  Connection with others is the important thing.

Now that I am closer to valley, I can see that it has a gate. 

The journey on the hill has shown me that there is more than one hill, but I couldn’t see that until I got “over-the-hill”.  When I was climbing, my thought was that my life would end once I got over the summit…now that I AM over the summit, I’m glad to see that there is still more, and there will be more…especially after I walk through the gate in the garden in the valley.

 Thanks to all whose paths cross my path, who walk the path with me, who have carried my pack for me, who have guarded me when I have slept and mended me when I have fallen.  To the ones who travel with me, by blood or by choice, I am who I am because of you and your love.  And to The Shepherd who leads and asks me to follow: I am just beginning to make out the melody You’ve been singing, and look forward to a continuing journey filled with many more years on this path, and unfathomable moments beyond the gate.