Once again, I recently got to experience some Disney magic, thanks to the generosity of a good friend, and cast member at WDW. I spent a glorious day at EPCOT in Walt Disney World.

I’ll say it again: every time I’m there I am so impressed with their passion for ensuring vacationers have the best vacation they’ve ever had.  Everything, from the height and color of the buildings to the detail in the streetlamps is designed to attract visitors (and snag some of their cash). 

Walt Disney didn’t live to see WALT DISNEYWORLD “in the flesh”, but he saw it before it was built, in his fertile mind. A couple of years ago I read a Disney biography and visiting the park(s) after reading so much about the man (the good and the not-so-good) and his methods, made those trips even more fascinating.   Every spot, every shop, street, ride, window, light, character, etc. is designed to specifications that are attractive to the people who visit – of ALL ages.   In fact, the way DISNEY goes out of its way to make sure that ADULTS (parents and grandparents) have as much of a good time as the kids is also very impressive.

Mr. Disney had a knack of “getting into the skin” of the people he wanted to serve.  He often responded to criticism that he only created a “fantasy escape” from the world by saying that he was not creating an escape, but an ideal world.  Much of it was HIS ideal, HIS memory (MAIN STREET USA – Magic Kingdom, as an example) is a recreation of his childhood hometown.  But why do the rest of us also feel so nostalgic on MAIN STREET in THE MAGIC KINGDOM, or comfortable on HOLLYWOOD BLVD in DISNEY MOVIE STUDIOS park?  Part of it is reminiscent design and part of it is design science.

For example, many of the buildings are constructed just enough under scale/smaller than life-size to make one feel cozy and warm (that is just exactly what happens on MAIN STREET and HOLLYWOOD BLVD).  And things such as CINDERELLA’S CASTLE in the Magic Kingdom are built with forced perspective (the scale gets smaller as it grows higher – to make it seem even taller than it is, without the observer feeling overwhelmed).

It is said that Walt oversaw every detail of THE MAGIC KINGDOM in California.  One of his methods was to get down on his knees in the middle of the park and look around to see if anything stood out of place – from a child’s perspective.

One year we saw the new STAR WARS attraction, and although half of the world’s population was there, we saw enough to be impressed once more, by Disney design, concept, and their general knowledge of the people business.

Also, we experienced the newish “air gondolas” suspended high above the parks and called the SKYLINER.  This is a new way to travel from some of the parks to others AND to many of the in-park resorts.  What makes this ride fascinating is everything you could see from the air that you can’t see from the ground; the perspective of seeing the park through the eyes of the creators, rather than the visitor. 

Although the entire WDW park system teaches me about God every time I’m there (because I believe, and teach often, EVERY SPIRITUAL TRUTH HAS A PHYSICAL METAPHOR) what struck me while riding the SKYLINER was seeing ALL the machinery, buildings, and people working ‘round-the-clock whom we never see in the park while visiting. 

Not only does WDW attract every eye and imagination because of the way the creators designed and constructed it, but there are almost as many people behind the scenes working to make things happen as there are people visiting the park.  If you work at WDW, in any capacity, you are called a CAST MEMBER.  Once you walk into a part of the park that is occupied by visitors you are “on stage” and when you walk off that part, you are “off stage”.  What is happening backstage is almost more fascinating than the “show” onstage…as is often the case in life itself.

High above the park we saw new construction happening in several places, unseen by the eyes on the ground.  We saw parking lot after parking lot filled, not with visitors, but with CAST MEMBERS.  We saw roads, walkways, mechanisms, etc. all there to provide for those in the parks who would never see them.

Again, this reminded me of the earth, and life, in general: a place created for us by God.  This place was created to be a perfect place for us, with our perspective(s) and needs in mind.  I can picture God on his knees looking out at the park he was creating (Eden) to see if there was anything out of place or wrong for us.  He even descended to us, crawled into our skin, saw through our eyes, heard through our ears, to ensure that we understood/understand everything here is created FOR US.  Everything here is for our use, tailored for our pleasure and fulfillment…and to especially show us that HE is accessible to us, as well.

Behind the scenes/backstage He continues to work, to redesign, to remodel, to build – and beside Him, the multitudes of unseen Messengers – doing work we will never see, fighting battles we will never know about, but we DO experience the results – all for His “park” and the children He created to live there.

And the “CAST MEMBERS” unseen backstage? Well, in many ways, those are the citizens of the Kingdom of God, the unseen reality, the parallel universe. Those citizens are also working on the Designer’s behalf to make sure that EVERYONE in the world understands and sees clearly the Designer’s ideas, creations, and love…and then, through His work and care they are drawn to Him.

Of course, The DISNEY Corp. is a business, and they aim to make money.  But they make money by aiming to understand, to know, and to cater to the client who brings in the money.  It is just a small type, or picture, of the single-minded mission of God: to create everything around us to show His love, and to attract us to Him so we will choose to love Him and walk beside Him – forever. 

God will be found everywhere we look for Him. He is in all places, as is the Truth of His existence. It’s not a matter of FINDING Him, it’s a matter of recognizing His presence. And, as Paul said, the elements of the physical world teach us about the invisible world of the Kingdom. You can learn a lot about God and His love for us…in everything, everywhere, if you look…even at Disneyworld.

“Every spiritual truth has a physical metaphor.”

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 scientifically proven to shorten a person’s 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.” 

What I have always called, “the best day/the worst day” actually began the night before.

It was when I was a sophomore, majoring in music performance, at the state university I attended right out of high school. On May 13th (one day before my birthday) I was practicing, after the usual dinner of carbs and soda, in a practice room in the Music Building. The rehearsal rooms were, by design, soundproof to the hallway and each other. But that night, there were a couple of people standing directly outside my practice room door, I could hear them talking as I was packing up to leave. I recognized one of the voices as a friend I was meeting for dinner the next day. I started to open the door to say “Hi”, when I heard her say…

“…remember, tomorrow night at 7pm. It’s a surprise for his Birthday, I’ll get him there by 7:30pm.”

She was throwing me a surprise Birthday party!

Since I had never had a surprise Birthday Party, I was excited. Even more so, since (as a control freak) I like to know about “surprises” before they happen. (I know, that defeats the purpose…what can I say?). However, even with the knowledge of that good news, the next day didn’t start well. I had a “presentation” to give in my first class, which meant shirt and tie. I woke up late (as usual). I leapt out of my bed and sprinted down the hall to the showers for the fastest shower and shave I had ever done. Back to the dorm room and on with the white shirt, pants…I sat on the bed to slip on both my shoes while tying my tie. Rushing, and doing multiple things to be ready in 15 minutes, I jumped up from the bed where I was sitting – ready to step in front of the mirror and behold my glory – when suddenly, without any time to catch a breath or blink, I was painfully on my back, on the floor.

In my multitasking frenzy I had zipped the end of my tie into my pants. When I stood, I flipped myself on my back and ripped off the end of my tie. After breathing in, I remembered…

…I’m having a surprise party tonight!

OK, so things didn’t seem so bad. I tucked the end of the tie in my shirt, put on a jacket to cover the mangled end of my tie if it slipped out of it’s hiding place in my button-down. Then I grabbed my stack of books and raced to the cafeteria to grab a quick coffee (I was already addicted at this point in my life) before heading to my presentation…

…I’m having a surprise party tonight!

Once I arrived at the cafeteria, I placed my stack of books in a cubby downstairs and took two stairs at a time up to the second floor where the magic bean juice was dispensed. Once my coffee lid was secure, I raced (carefully) down the stairs to discover…my books were missing.

Sure enough, someone had taken all my books (a thief who obviously enjoyed reading philosophy, music theory and opera, no doubt). Now I need to add at this point that one of the books was borrowed from my mother. It was one of her prized possessions and I promised her it would be safe, as I tucked it in my car on my way to school from my home, two hours away, some months before.

My first thought was…” I’m dead.”

My presentation notes, my books and my mother’s Christmas Book all gone, with no hope of return. Then I remembered…

…I’m having a surprise party tonight!

And with that thought, the problem was placed in a folder a little further back in my brain and my day brightened despite the shredded tie, my aching back, the stolen books and a presentation that I would have to make up “on the fly”. (a little play on words, considering how my tie got mangled).

The presentation was, miraculously, stunning. (I was carried around on the backs of my fellow students, as they cheered…at least that’s MY recollection). My back recovered (ahhh…youth!) and with every hour of the day, good or bad, in the back of my mind was the constant underscore of a party in my future.

I returned to my dorm room around 4pm to find my wall phone blinking with a message.

(Editor’s note: For the young people: a wall phone is like an iPHONE without the screen or camera. It is, if you can believe it, FASTENED to the wall; immovable. People call, but you don’t know who is calling until you answer. In the case of this particular phone, one could leave a message, and a little light would blink on the wall phone of the recipient…it was a brave new world.)

In any case, I listened to the message and called the number. It was the SECURITY OFFICE on campus.
“Are you missing a rucksack?” they asked.
Not totally certain at that point in my life what a “rucksack” was, I said, “No, but I AM missing some books.”
“Can you describe the books?”
“Well, one of them is big, red, and is titled, CHRISTMAS CAROLS FROM AROUND THE WORLD…inside is the name, Margery Baker.”
“You can come claim your rucksack before 5:30pm today.”

I went to CAMPUS SECURITY. Sure enough, there was a backpack (what Shirley in CAMPUS SECURITY called a “rucksack”) that I didn’t recognize. And after I showed her my campus ID she smiled and handed it to me. My books were inside, along with several other things. That’s right…whomever stole my books had lost their “rucksack”.
“Don’t you want it all?” Shirley asked.
I have to say, as tempted as I was by the idea of obtaining my thief’s stuff: an ANDY GIBB cassette, macramé key chain, WORLDS OF ADVANCED GEOMETRY book, and a corduroy cap, I refrained.

I returned to my dorm room in triumph, saying aloud, “God is good.” (Not realizing at the time, in my spiritual immaturity, that God would STILL be good, even if my books hadn’t been found…since “God, being good.” has little to do with me…but that’s another BLOG).

The party I had dreamed of all day finally came to pass, and it was wonderful. That party had colored my day; causing all that went wrong to be placed in priority after the knowledge of what was happening at the end of the day. It was like knowing that the destination was worth any trouble along the journey.

Even at that point in my spiritual immaturity I realized the Spirit had led me into a Truth that would stay with me: knowing what is at the end of the journey puts everything else in perspective.

Every-once-in-a-while I stand in awe as I look on the lives of the Children of God around me, especially my flock, my congregation. These people who suffer loss, sickness, and circumstances that might cripple anyone else, not only survive, but thrive. They live as if they know what lies at the end of the journey. They let all circumstances, good and bad, all moments, all people, roll over them, through them…with the knowledge that there’s a party at the end of the day.

For those of us who BELIEVE & FOLLOW: how would our experience of each day change, if we knew what was at the end of the journey?

Funny thing…we DO know.

During my college years, in Seattle, I played the piano and sang – somewhat frequently – to try and make a living while going to class.  I had some “regular gigs” (playing for some ballet classes and playing in the Executive Dining Room of the Rainier Tower every week) AND every-once-in-a-while a special party or wedding.  As payment for one event, I did at the historic Olympic Four Seasons in downtown Seattle I went a little “above and beyond” and did some extra playing for the hotel itself on a night when I was there to play for a party – the hotel gave me a dinner for two at their famed Georgian Room.

Now keep in mind that I was barely 21, had only really experienced anything as elegant and elite as The Georgian Room because I was a sometime performer in places like that, meaning: I entered through the back door or kitchen, did my gig and left the same way – not mingling with the guests NOR eating the food NOR drinking the wine.  So, this free dinner was not only going to be a new adventure, but also something that otherwise would’ve cost me the monetary equivalent of tuition for one semester at my school; a little out of my range.

I asked a girl friend (as opposed to a girlfriend) to join me.  She eagerly agreed.  She was a performer/student herself and shared the same world as I; dining mostly on ramen noodles, pizza, popcorn, etc.  This was going to be spectacular…we didn’t eat for two days, in preparation.

I picked her up and, being a girl, she looked perfect for the occasion: chic, but not TOO dressy.  I wore my best white button-down, nice linen khakis, freshly shined brown oxfords…plus (did I say I was younger) I didn’t need AS MUCH HELP looking good as I do now.  I imagined we would turn heads as we, much like Eliza Doolittle at the ball, walked into the Georgian Room.

I admit, I had some expectations (based mostly on the movies and television shows I watched) about what I would experience in such a fancy place; snooty staff, food names I couldn’t pronounce, a lot of “raw” things I wouldn’t want in my stomach…etc.  But the one thing I wasn’t expecting happened at the door to the restaurant when I said we had reservations.

The Maître d’, (and he really was THE perfect definition of a gentleman) smiled and asked if I had a jacket, since jackets were required in the room.  I had never heard of such a thing.  Shocked, embarrassed and thinking of some extravagant story I could talk about my jacket being stolen right outside as I saved myself and my date from certain death just before entering the restaurant…mostly I remember no response, except “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

The Maître ‘d gave me a sincere and truly reassuring smile and said not to worry, several gentlemen who dined there regularly kept jackets in the cloak room just off the Maître d’s station.  He sized me up and brought out a green jacket which he helped me slip on.  First, it was perhaps the most comfortable jacket I’d ever worn…perfect fit, and whatever the cut and fabric were I now judge every jacket I’ve worn since by that one.  Second, from that time on we were never treated by him or the staff as if we didn’t belong in that place and time.

Although the jacket wasn’t mine, it fit better than anything I one at the time, and I felt oddly comfortable as we were seated by a large, beautiful window, under a chandelier.  Our server couldn’t have been more engaging, welcoming and helpful…pointing out some things we would really like and encouraging us to try some new things…since our dinner was “on the house”.  It was that “night of the green jacket” that I found out crudité just means “raw veggies” and vichyssoise is just cold potato soup…among other things.

By the end of the evening we were laughing, comfortable, surprised, satisfied, …and filled with memories that I still have some 40 years later…I’m assuming it was probably less memorable for my “date”, but who knows?

When we left, the Maître d, after asking how our evening was, removed my jacket and asked my name.  I told him, he took out a form and found a number on the page that corresponded with a discreetly-placed number sewn in the inside of the jacket and wrote my name beside it – under the other few names beside that number.

“There”, he said, “when you return, your jacket will be here.”

I learned some things that night, as my Father (in His undeniably supernatural AND natural way) taught me not to make assumptions about anyone or anything, that trying new things (like new foods and new destinations) stretches and invigorates the mind and body.  He taught me that some people have a gift of making others feel good about themselves, and I wanted to find out how to cultivate that gift.

But most of what I learned had to do with “putting on” something I didn’t think of as “mine” and learning that most often, we don’t see ourselves as others see us, we don’t imagine that some experiences, gifts, blessings, are for us…when, in fact, they fit us perfectly.

I know that’s true with Gifts of the Spirit.  I know that it is much easier to see another person’s giftedness than our own.  That’s why I’ve always thought “Spiritual Gift Assessment” tests should not be taken by the person trying to discover their own gifts but by someone else, who knows them well. I know that some people would never see themselves in a certain “jacket” because it is so out of their usual or out of their self-defined comfort zone…only then to have a friend, mentor, or someone they love, tell them the “jacket” truly fits…they should wear it, even if only for a short time and place.

The lessons of THE GREEN JACKET stayed with me.  There are times I’ve found myself in a place or time where I’m sure I don’t fit…then, remarkably, comfortingly, someone speaks with the inspiration of the Spirit and says, “Why don’t you just try it on.”

The “green jacket” may represent a change in life, a place in your congregation or family, or what some call a “special anointing” for a specific time or place.  Whatever your jacket is, I say to you: “Why don’t you just try it on.”

You might be surprised what God has tailored for you.

I am so blessed and happy to live in a country in which it is relatively easy to be a Believer & Follower of Jesus the King.  I am thankful every day, as a Pastor, that I do not face the persecution and unfathomable struggles that many of my brothers and sisters throughout the world face daily.  We all are truly blessed, in the United States, to be allowed to worship, or not, as WE individually choose.

We, as a nation, have rarely had to face what other Believers & Followers around the world face, as tension between the church and the government.  Throughout the world, both governments and “non-Christians” will resent the fact that a Believer & Follower’s allegiance is FIRST given to God, and THEN to the nation.  Here in the U.S.A., although it has turned to a more politicized moniker, having the “Christian” label also gives some influence in the greatest circles of power, or at least a relative comfort level within those circles.  The same CANNOT be said for many countries outside of the U.S.A.

Does that make the U.S.A. a “Christian” country?

Although for some reason, many believe that this nation is a “new Israel” – type, the nation of the USA is no more “Christian” (according to the definition of Jesus gives us) than any other country in the world.  There is also the flawed belief there were MORE Christians in political leadership at the dawn of this nation than there are now. But all anyone needs is to read a little history and find the percentage was about the same as it is now.  Also, the “Christian behavior” of  some of those leaders would make our hair curl.  However, history also tells us there WAS an eager tolerance, in that time, to allow the people of this new country to choose where, when, how, or not to worship (unlike the countries from which our colonists came, where religion was forced upon the populace). 

Was this nation founded on Christian principals?

It would seem so, at least as many would define “Christianity” and interpret scriptures then and now.  But looking at the way some have historically used their faith to justify slavery and aggressive war against other nations, one wonders what the difference is between patriotism and faith.  Again, Tzarist Russia (as an example) and Nazi Germany (as another) would have claimed, and in fact DID claim, that theirs were “Christian nations”: their concepts about government and “who was in and who was out” were argued using the scripture AND they belied God blessed their efforts and was “on their side”.

This belief in a “Christian United States” has, unfortunately, given some Believers & Followers pause.  Some laws enacted by this so-called “Christian” country are not what some of us Believers & Followers would ever call “Christian”. These decisions about marriage, about life before birth, about death, etc. are reminders that this country is simply that…a country. It is not a nation set aside from any other nation, by God, for special “anointing”.  It is a DOMAIN (“an area of territory owned or controlled by a ruler or government”). But within this DOMAIN are people who are part of a DOMINION (“sovereignty or control”) This DOMINION transcends borders, languages, skin color, economic divides, DOMAINS, and human definition. The U.S.A. contains citizens of this DOMINION within her DOMAIN…just like every other country in the world. 

As God’s children and a part of His DOMINION, we understand that our allegiance to Him dictates that we pray for, but not worship, our respective countries/Domains and their leaders.  We realize that our leaders and lawmakers will do things we agree with and some things we don’t agree with.  We will agree and disagree with our own faith families as well.  As children of God, we also see that God and God alone will define what Life is, what Marriage is, what Love is, and who has residency in His Kingdom…many of us would be surprised at His decisions about precisely those things. 

Even in the Kingdom, the searching and re-searching of the scripture may lead YOU to define God and other things in ways which might be different from the way I see God.  How then can we expect our nation to always agree with what we individually define as “Christian”?

The laws of this country/domain and the laws of Gods DOMINION may at times connect, intersect, run parallel or conflict.  That is the reality of life in This Present Age.  We are promised however, that following The Day of the Lord, in the Age-To-Come, there will be no boundaries, no war, no strangers.  There will be ONE King, ONE law of love, and ONE peace.  We’re not there yet, but we will be soon…and for now we should practice not looking shocked at who else is sitting at God’s table (and not being offended when they are shocked to see US sitting there.)

We, as Believers and Followers of the One True God, manifested in Jesus the King, have one agenda: to KNOW God.  We have a PRIMARY allegiance: to the Almighty Father and His Only Son…and we have one command from Him to follow: LOVE ONE ANOTHER AS I HAVE LOVED YOU. PERIOD.

I love this country, where we celebrate the freedom to worship as we please, we define our faith as we please, we agree or disagree with our country’s leaders as we please.  God help me to remember the millions that don’t have this freedom…and help me love the ones who have not chosen the ultimate freedom that comes from knowing God and His Son.

America! America! May God thy gold refine,
Till all success be nobleness, And every gain divine!
(Katherine Bates)

The kingdom of the world has become
The Kingdom of our Lord and of His Anointed King,
and HE will reign forever and ever!
(Revelation 11:15)

When people think of my “home state”, Washington, (especially those NOT from Washington) more than likely the iconic image of tall evergreen trees, mountains, the Puget Sound and the bustle of Seattle are the first things that come to mind.  However, I grew up on the other side of the state, the east side, east of the cascade mountain range that traps clouds and separates the lush green coastal forest from the fertile high plateau that covers the rest of the state.  Where I grew up is dry, filled with sage brush and low-lying, wind-blown bluffs (or what some Hoosiers call, “mountains”).  So, you see, to define Washington as “Seattle” is a little one-sided…Seattle is one city, a small part of a state, which is twice the size as Indiana.

When I used to travel to Washington to visit my now-deceased parents, it always took a little time to adjust to the inevitable fact that we all had aged.  One time I arrived, my Dad was standing in the airport as I walked right up to him…he didn’t recognize me until I spoke.  As for them, I had a certain picture in my mind as to who my parents were and what they looked like…that picture in my mind didn’t change at the same rate they did…so there was always a period of adjustment for me, at each visit, to realize that they were the same people.  They were still the fine, deeply faithed, salt-of-the-earth characters they had always been…but more.  To have only known them in their 40’s or 50’s would be the same as meeting them in their 80’s…they were more than they were then, and (as they would admit) a little less.  In the same way, I, even as their son, didn’t really know them wholly…I didn’t know them like their congregation knew them, or like their friends knew them, or the young couple of neighbors who would come over every-once-in-a-while and fix, visit, keep in touch.

STATES and PEOPLE are simple concepts compared to God, they are finite entities compared to the infinite, they are “local” compared to omnipresent…so why do any of us arrogantly claim to have exclusive, and total, knowledge of Him?

Is the majestic Mt. Rainier the definition of Washington State, or the life of a retired Postman the definition of Tom Vale?  Of course not, but those definitions are sometimes the limit of person’s perception and knowledge.  YOU may see the Space Needle as Washington and I see the Columbia River…we are BOTH wrong if we think those things totally define the great state.  You may have known my mother as a good cook and known her as my mom…we are BOTH right, yet neither of those things really and truly define her.

God is beyond human definition, and to complicate matters even more, He deals with each of us individually, specifically and without prejudice.  To the blind who came to Jesus, He is the Healer…although He healed one through touch alone and another by spitting in the dirt and putting mud in his eye.  They both saw a different part of Jesus, but to divide the believers by claiming that Jesus ONLY heals through mud or ONLY heals through touch is to make God smaller than He is and to deny His greatness.

Unfortunately, much of the time THE CHURCH appears to make God “small”: one congregation claiming that the God who does “this or that” is the ONLY God, and any other definition is heresy.  If people and places are complex enough that one-hundred people might describe an individual one-hundred ways, then isn’t it just possible all of us only have a glimpse of what we try so desperately to define?  AND when we do try to define God, it is often NOT so that we will KNOW God (our one purpose on this earth) but so that we can claim to be RIGHT.  In doing so, we offend our Heavenly Father.

But the best part is this: when we open minds and hearts to the possibility that someone else might have discovered a part of God we have not seen, the hunger and thirst to know Him and be known by Him grows.  We are satisfied and stretched at the same time.  To narrow the personality of God is to narrow life to only the “possible”.  To judge another person according to their perception of how God works is to dismember the ONE Body of Christ.

There is one body and one Spirit – just as you were called to one hope when you were called – one Lord, one faith, one baptism; one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.  EPHESIANS 4:4-6

In celebration of The Fourth, I like to watch “patriotic” movies, like “PATRIOT” or “INDEPENDENCE DAY” (OK…that one’s really about aliens, but it’s still a good movie).  One of my favorite movies was on TV the other day; “NATIONAL TREASURE”.  In this movie, the minor point that stuck out to me was how our Founding Fathers were, in fact, traitors…at the time they rebelled against the established government.  At the end of the “Declaration of Independence” they pledged each other their “lives, fortunes and sacred honor.”  Most of the signers lost all three of those things before the end of the Revolution.

But the point was that to pursue what they knew to be the truth, they had to buck the establishment.  Like Martin Luther, who said that the church was wrong (according to how HE read the Bible) and had been wrong for hundreds of years.  He was a monk, and he MARRIED A NUN!  You can imagine what the church thought of Him!  Good grief…even Mary (mother of Jesus) was an un-wed mother!  That’s truly bucking the system.  The Church itself has stated that there is one thing all the saints have in common; they said “no” to the established church, they bucked the system.  They called the truth the truth, no matter what the status quo was and how long it had been established.

 What I learn from this is we (or maybe I should just speak for myself) need to be true to what I believe IS TRUTH, no matter how long the “establishment” has said something else.  I need to be strong enough to pledge my “life, fortune and sacred honor” to that which I believe is true, even when it flies in the face of what my contemporaries may believe.  I’ve done that. I’ve lost much. It’s not fun, but God is the final judge, and it is to HIM that I truly owe my life, fortune and sacred honor…as we all do.

As a Pastor, I pray for courage to be bold in speaking what I believe to be the Truth.  And the congregation needs to be free to speak boldly about the Truth as well, and so I encourage that, in all realms of our lives.

As citizens of the Kingdom of God, our PRIMARY allegiance should not be to the establishment, nor should it be to the State, but to Him and to the Truth.  It is truth, not the establishment that gives us freedom!

“You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free…if the Son sets you free, you are free indeed!” – And to that Truth, and to the Kingdom, I will pledge my life, my fortune, and my sacred honor…will you?

It’s difficult to believe that 55 years ago (July 20th) Neil Armstrong walked on the moon, the first to do so?  I remember where I was, I was staring at our black and white TV, trying to discern the hazy and somewhat confusing image, while listening intently as Neil Armstrong spoke the famous words, “That’s one small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.”

That was a great time to be a kid, our heroes were astronauts and the “sky was the limit” …literally.  I had astronaut action-figures, there were a plethora of science-fiction shows on TV which took the imagination to the limit of believability, and what could be imagined seemed to be possible.

What happened?  What happened to imagination?

Years ago, every once-in-a-while I’d be asked to come into a Gifted Classroom of kids and teach songwriting.  I had a teacher-friend who taught an accelerated humanities-type program for Elementary Age children of every age, I would come by for a day and have the children, each hour, write a song together (leading them somewhat along) that we would write down and sing (and record).  What was interesting to observe was the children who were under Third Grade had no trouble writing lyrics with fantastic themes, creating scenarios and creatures that didn’t exist, and putting things that DID exist into impossible situations.  Once we started dealing with kids older than that, they only wanted to write about what was possible, and things they had seen or heard before…what happened?

Many of you know that I travelled to the Soviet Union (back when it WAS the Soviet Union) and spent a good month getting to know the folks who hosted me and observing life in Communist Russia.  It was eye-opening, startling, and not at all what I expected.  One morning, over tea with a friend I’d met there, I told him that in Moscow at least, I hardly saw a smile…except from the children.  He said something very enlightening, he said, “That’s because they think that anything is possible…you see, once you get to be 9 or 10 your life and work are planned out for you, it’s a sort of caste system, and once you realize what the rest of your life is going to be you stop dreaming.”

Again: “You stop dreaming.”

As a sidenote I must tell you that his dream was to move to the United States, marry an American girl and get his green card…then work in a bank and get rich.  He accomplished, after the “second revolution”, every one of those goals.

Neil Armstrong walked on the moon because somewhere, at some point, one person imagined that it was possible.  Someone had a large dream, an “Impossible Dream”.  Someone checked back in with their God-given imagination.  Someone said, “I believe THAT’S possible.”

Imagination and dreaming are God-given gifts.  When we only see what is possible (with us) our prayers become litanies of grief and whining…not shared dreams between a child and a Parent.  When we see what is only possible with us, then we disrespect the God who says, “With humans it is impossible, but with God ALL things are possible.” (MATT 19:26) AND “…ask in faith without doubting.  For the doubter is like the surging sea, driven and tossed by the wind.” (JAMES 1:6) AND “…your old will dream dreams and your young will see visions.” (JOEL 2:28)

God wants you and me to think “outside the box” in all things…why?  Because when we tap into the impossible, we tap into God.  When we see miracles and expect them, we truly become His children.  When we stop saying “that’s impossible” and start saying, “why not?” then we start living the ABUNDANT LIFE.

A man in a space suit walking on the moon is nothing compared to the great things that could be accomplished if we knew that “With God, nothing is impossible.”

Don’t stop dreaming.  That one step into the impossible, with God, could be the giant step for humankind that we all need. 

Because ”THE BLOG” is always written on Wednesdays, and Wednesdays used to be “garbage day” at my old house, and because I’m always the most sensitive to what God is showing me on Wednesday mornings prior to my writing; I have learned a lot about God from taking out the garbage. What does THAT tell you about me? In any case, as I was wheeling my garbage cans down the driveway to the sidewalk one morning and I saw some garbage sitting on the sidewalk, close to my garbage can. That inner dialogue began almost immediately:

​“You should pick that up and put it in your garbage can.”

“But it’s not MY garbage…I don’t even GO to MacDonald’s! It’s the responsibility of the Neanderthal who either threw it out of the car or just dropped it here on their way back.”

”You should pick it up and throw it away AND you should walk around the sidewalk and pick up all the garbage you see and throw it away…since you DO see it.”

“But it’s not MINE.”

“But didn’t YOU just say that if you see it, it’s YOUR responsibility to change it?”

“Yes…. but I was preaching to the flock, not to myself. (smiling). Am I really and truly responsible to clean up after others…after people who are thoughtless and tasteless and lazy?”

“You tell me.”

And then I remembered a “Principle of the Kingdom”: we are all here for each other and, yes, it IS my responsibility to clean up after others…just as it’s their responsibility to clean up after me.  It is my responsibility to put up with others – as it is their responsibility to put up with me.  Each of us will make mistakes, act foolishly, and leave a trail of garbage sometime in our lives.  None of us live in a bubble, we are ALL connected.  As a citizen of the Kingdom, it is my responsibility to provide for others what they cannot or will not provide for themselves, both inside and outside of the confines of “the flock”. If everyone did that job, we’d ALL have someone looking out for us…that’s the ideal design for the world we live in, and it’s up to the Church to reinforce that behavior.

I picked up the empty burger bag, a couple of cigarette boxes, an empty Coke cup and an empty tube of eyeliner (that WAS mine…just kidding). As I did, I realized that God is right…if we only look after ourselves, we have a very limited and unfulfilling life…if we only take care of our own lives we live in seclusion and our solitary existence benefits no one…not even ourselves…and it certainly doesn’t promote growth of the Kingdom of God.

We are all connected, whether we like it or not. Sometimes we mourn with each other, and dance, we share more than we understand…and yes, there are moments that call for us to clean up one another’s garbage. No one has penned it better than one of my favorite poets, the priest, John Donne:

No man is an island entire of itself; every man
is a piece of the continent, a part of the main;
if a clod be washed away by the sea, Europe
is the less, as well as if a promontory were, as
well as any manner of thy friends or of thine
own were; any man’s death diminishes me,
because I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom
the bell tolls; it tolls for thee. 

PHILIPPIANS 2:1-4
If then there is any encouragement in Christ, if any consolation of love, if any fellowship with the Spirit, if any affection and mercy, fulfill my joy by thinking the same way, having the same love, sharing the same feelings, focusing on one goal. Do nothing out of rivalry or conceit, but in humility consider others as more important than yourselves. Everyone should look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others.

It was a tragic story, to begin with.  He was a young father, in construction.  He was a high school jock who hadn’t lost his physical peak with age.  His home was filled with his young wife and three small children: girls.  He loved his family and his life was full of simple pleasures.  I didn’t exactly know him, but his parents were members of my congregation.

He lived each day following a pattern that wasn’t a rut, but was predictable: he rose early, went to work and came home.  But there was one feature about him that seemed incongruous to the rest of him.  He loved Broadway musicals, especially FIDDLER ON THE ROOF.  And so, each day, he would return from a long day of hard labor, greet his kids, kiss his wife, put on an LP of some Broadway soundtrack, more often than not, “IF I WERE A RICH MAN” (his favorite of favorites) from “FIDDLER ON THE ROOF”. Then, he would lay down on the couch and fall asleep till dinner.

One day he did all that, laid down, and never got back up.

Like I said, it was tragic.  But even in this case…well.

The church organist and I were the same age, young.  We lacked the maturity of experience to let inappropriate moments of humor pass through our minds to be nibbled on later.  If the plate was put in front of us, we ate it…or worked hard to not let it tempt us (usually without success).  We were the musicians at the church and therefore were asked to be the musicians at the funeral.  The service was not at our church, but at a small, older, funeral home out-of-town.  This was the type of place where the organ and singer were behind a screen at the back of the platform.  We could see out, but no one could see in and see us.

Most of the service requested was standard fare.  However, the family insisted on my singing his favorite song.  You guessed it: “IF I WERE A RICH MAN”.

Picture the cast: a minister prone to appreciate the off-kilter humor of human nature, two twenty-somethings who had a difficult time taking anything seriously, a grieving family, an old funeral home…it’s a gold mine.

The actual performance was more difficult than I imagined when we simply practicing.  First off, the mood alone was wrong.  This was a funeral, not a cabaret.  We had to find that musical performance balance between appropriate while still being true to a song THAT WASN’T WRITTEN FOR A FUNERAL.  So, the organist and I KNEW we couldn’t perform it “full-boar”, as if at the Schubert Theatre.  The logistics alone were impossible.  We were tucked in a room large enough for a Hammond B3 and a singer.  There wasn’t enough room there (as my dear Aunt Eva would say) to “cuss a cat without getting fur in your mouth”.  So my friend, the organist, had to play the familiar, “boom-chuck-chuck, boom-chuck” accompaniment (on a Hammond B3, better known for blues, rock and gospel, than show tunes), and I had to read over her shoulder because there wasn’t room for a music stand.  The microphone was fixed to the wall, NOT the wall the organ was on.  The organ was to my left, the mic was to my right.  The melody I knew, the words…not so much.  So I had to look to my left, get as many words in my mind as possible while directing my voice to the mic on my right.  All the while, actually looking at (through the screen) the congregation.

The time came.  Just on the other side of the screen, a mere two feet in front of us, were the chairs for the minister and anyone else speaking at the service, backs to us.  Our Pastor had just finished his remarks, telling the story and meaning of this song to the departed.  He sat down.  She started playing.  I started singing.

It was all going well.  And then the surreal moment hit my friend playing the organ.  By the movement of her back, I could tell she was beginning to chuckle to herself.  Her past history indicated she wouldn’t be able to stop.  It got worse.  This may not be true for you, but for me (and obviously her) if you have to laugh silently, laugh-tears start up.  I was doing fine, but suddenly she was silently laughing and tearing up.  She couldn’t see the music, she turned a page too early, I lost the words.  Then I started.  I couldn’t control it.  This was perhaps the most ridiculous thing (at that point in my life) that had ever happened to me.  I started to sing and couldn’t.  I didn’t know what the words were so I just sang (when I could) “dai-dai-dai…”.  My inner Tevye had left the building.  In a frantic effort to stop the madness I reached over to point to the END OF THE SONG, and ended up 1) accidentally hitting her in the jaw, and 2) falling over a stack of music.

Our Pastor, true to his nature, had his head bowed the whole time.  When we finished in glorious fashion, he rose and gave the longed-for benediction.  It was over.

Well, not quite.

In an effort to sneak out as quickly as possible, we entered the side room where the family had gathered, before getting into the coach and ride to the cemetery.  In horror, I saw the departed’s mother and wife approach us.  They hugged me.  They said how moved they both were at my rendition of RICH MAN, and so touched that I “broke down during the last verse”…it meant so much to them that I was moved as well.

Well, of course.  They couldn’t SEE what was going on, they could only hear it.

I don’t know what you can get out of this story, but several lessons come to me:
FIRST: The young father was truly a “rich man”. The world may have considered him to be just another working man of the masses, but his life was full and rich

SECOND: The SPIRIT can work through absolutely even the most ridiculous of weaknesses to do THE SPIRIT’S work.

And so, once again we are assured:
“…all things work together for those/with those, who love God and are called according to his purpose…” (ROMANS 8:28)
and
“…the Lord works in mysterious ways…” (not Scripture, but appropriate)

…and finally,

“…in our weakness, He is our strength.” (II CORINTHIANS 12:9)