Standing in the choir loft we gazed out across the sanctuary with our mouths hanging as wide open as a bunch of startled sock monkeys. All the light fixtures flashed and flickered like those spewing sparklers we were given as children on hot Fourth of July evenings.
Five times everything electric dwindled to darkness. Five times the copier jammed, the computer complained, the organ moaned, and the air conditioning died trying to fight the 96 degree/100% humidity East Texas summer.
Finally, the giant power-giver, wherever it was, gave up. Eight Texas counties were cast into darkness at the hour of completion: 7 p.m. Within minutes, sirens blared as police rushed to direct traffic at major intersections.
But the St. Paul Praise Team didn't give up. I guess after emerging from 15 years or so of air conditioning units and breakers that were undersized or half-operable, the surprise of having an unexpected "lights out" during choir practice tapped a reservoir of memories from "the old days." As a pastor, I remembered that Sunday when all the power suddenly went off in the sanctuary and scrambling for a way to complete the service, I asked everyone to pick up a hymnal and prepare to "move the tabernacle." Nothing unusual about that, is there? It's biblical, isn't it? So, two by two (because that's all that can fit in our center aisle) The St. Paul congregation moved to the fellowship building without batting an eye.
Tonight was no different. The church secretary ran for pillar candles. The praise team gathered around the altar, and our pianist--who never needs the "sheet music"--played her heart out as millions of stars became visible over Conroe for the first time in years.
Ironically--or maybe not--the first song rehearsed was "This Is the Day the Lord Has Made." Next up, "To God Be the Glory, Great Things He Has Done." By this time, some giggling issued from the ranks. Then, as if to affirm that God knew how we used to suffer from power outages before updating our buildings, we practiced the third song for Sunday's service: "O God Our Help in Ages Past." That did it for me. We were in a CORPORATE EPIPHANY!
I hunger for those rare moments when God is so present, so close, that we not only know we are known, but we know we are loved and accepted and cherished by the Lord. The Spirit speaks through the mouth of a donkey and Heaven and Nature Sing!
Unity -- rare moments attached by a spiritual umbilical to the Godhead and in the Great Exchange given brief glimpses of the world through his eyes.
"Shut UP!" God said last night to the noise, the pollution, the glaring artificial lights, the gas station pumps, the churning cash registers and the commercialism that swams like locusts through our time between "getting off" and "getting home."
"Be still and know that I am God."
But we couldn't be still. We laughed and sang and praised God as we prepared undeterred for Sunday.
The wedding guests cannot fast while the Bridegroom is with them, can they?
Thursday, June 16, 2005
Monday, June 06, 2005
A HARVEST OF DISCARDS?
Matthew 9:36-38 When he saw the crowds, he had compassion for them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd. 37 Then he said to his disciples, "The harvest is plentiful, but the laborers are few; 38 therefore ask the Lord of the harvest to send out laborers into his harvest."
Crowds… dirty feet, smelling like hard labor in a hot Middle Eastern sun.
On top of it all the crowds had “issues.” Harassed crowds. Maybe they didn’t pay their taxes or their tithes. Maybe they walked too far on the Sabbath breaking the law against ‘work’ or perhaps they passed by in the shadow of something or someone unclean, thereby breaking the law on cleanliness. They were ostracized, ignored and so far out on the edge of the “acceptable people” that any re-entry positions were closed or closing fast. They were helpless and unable to change their fate.
Were their issues political or religious? Who cares? One tax was as bad as another. One law sealed their fate just as quickly as another. One ostracism was as painful as another.
What kind of “harvest” could they have possibly been? What did Jesus see when he looked at them?
I imagine my mother digging though a colander of dried pinto beans looking for the “bad ones” to pick out and discard. “Keep this handful…oops! Toss out that one!” Who in the world would call Mom’s bad beans “the “harvest?”
Who would have called the crowds "a harvest?”
Jesus did.
This harvest he longs for isn’t a “weeding” or a gathering up of things unwanted from a blessed and flourishing field. It’s a gathering up of potential life that lies wilting and dying in a field once precious, but now turned to weeds. It’s a RESCUE of something wanted and something loved.
The people in the crowds are ripe for picking not because they are bruised and need to be discarded, but because they are frustrated and victimized and marginalized and so have first hand experience with the systemic sins of a sick and unjust society. They are preciously AWARE. The crowds can SEE. They are not bound or blinded by their own economic and social idolatry. . .
I pastor a small church full of "the crowd." We are not wealthy, we are not well educated, but we are "harvested." We are called and gathered together by the hand of the Lord. If we have needs, we can be sure a supplier is among us. If there are skills required for a job to be done, we can be sure the Lord will provide them. A shepherd cares for his sheep!
We have a motto that we joyously share with visitors to our congregation and new members, partly because it is fun to watch people's faces as they recognize its two interpretations: "No one comes to St. Paul by accident." Yes, it is hard to find our "off the main road" physical location, but the greater truth is that we believe the Lord has called to be among us everyone who comes through our door. We believe that with all our hearts. They are more than our guests; they are his.
The Lord's harvest is not haphazard or arbitrary.
We are wheat hand-picked.
Loved and gathered in!
Thanks be to God!
Crowds… dirty feet, smelling like hard labor in a hot Middle Eastern sun.
On top of it all the crowds had “issues.” Harassed crowds. Maybe they didn’t pay their taxes or their tithes. Maybe they walked too far on the Sabbath breaking the law against ‘work’ or perhaps they passed by in the shadow of something or someone unclean, thereby breaking the law on cleanliness. They were ostracized, ignored and so far out on the edge of the “acceptable people” that any re-entry positions were closed or closing fast. They were helpless and unable to change their fate.
Were their issues political or religious? Who cares? One tax was as bad as another. One law sealed their fate just as quickly as another. One ostracism was as painful as another.
What kind of “harvest” could they have possibly been? What did Jesus see when he looked at them?
I imagine my mother digging though a colander of dried pinto beans looking for the “bad ones” to pick out and discard. “Keep this handful…oops! Toss out that one!” Who in the world would call Mom’s bad beans “the “harvest?”
Who would have called the crowds "a harvest?”
Jesus did.
This harvest he longs for isn’t a “weeding” or a gathering up of things unwanted from a blessed and flourishing field. It’s a gathering up of potential life that lies wilting and dying in a field once precious, but now turned to weeds. It’s a RESCUE of something wanted and something loved.
The people in the crowds are ripe for picking not because they are bruised and need to be discarded, but because they are frustrated and victimized and marginalized and so have first hand experience with the systemic sins of a sick and unjust society. They are preciously AWARE. The crowds can SEE. They are not bound or blinded by their own economic and social idolatry. . .
I pastor a small church full of "the crowd." We are not wealthy, we are not well educated, but we are "harvested." We are called and gathered together by the hand of the Lord. If we have needs, we can be sure a supplier is among us. If there are skills required for a job to be done, we can be sure the Lord will provide them. A shepherd cares for his sheep!
We have a motto that we joyously share with visitors to our congregation and new members, partly because it is fun to watch people's faces as they recognize its two interpretations: "No one comes to St. Paul by accident." Yes, it is hard to find our "off the main road" physical location, but the greater truth is that we believe the Lord has called to be among us everyone who comes through our door. We believe that with all our hearts. They are more than our guests; they are his.
The Lord's harvest is not haphazard or arbitrary.
We are wheat hand-picked.
Loved and gathered in!
Thanks be to God!
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