A Stumbler's Walk | BLESSED... (Pondering the first Psalm) Pt.2

Blessed is the person who does not...

Psalm 1

We might expect the writer to jump in to what blessed looks like - what is the stuff, the result? We might expect him to begin what a how to; E.g. "Five Simple Steps to Twist the Divine Arm of Blessing." 

This is not how the Psalmist begins. Oddly, he begins with the blessing of NOT doing. Strange. Frankly, if this were coming from the mouth of a modern day preacher I might tune out. 

I grew up with a don't dance (aka Footloose) version of religion. Oddly, this was for the most part self-imposed. It seemed my spirituality was tilted toward what NOT to do. I don't mean to overstate, but there was an odd pride produced from lead feet that didn't move to the beat, and lips over which no wine or beer had passed. 

I later found that joy is not in not doing. (You might have to untangle that sentence.)  I finally began to understand the freedom and responsibility of the Apostle Paul's response to the statement: "All things are permissible." "Yes," he said, "But all things are not beneficial... not everything builds others and ourselves up." (1 Cor 10:23, rough translation). Joy is found in doing what is right and good and edifying to others and ourselves. 

So back to it; "Blessed is the person who does not..." Are we about to launch into a list of Do's and Don'ts? Far from it. 

Two distinctly different landscapes are about to emerge from the canvas. In my mind's eye I see one akin to the dried up, dusty and dying fields depicted in the movie Interstellar. (Can you picture it? If not, think Dust Bowl.)  The other painting is of green meadows and streams of clear cool water; vibrant hues from the canvas bringing a sense of warmth. 

Diverging paths will be laid out. One leading to life; the other, death. Above all, the Psalmist will make a point that has stuck with me since first pondering the first Psalm. 

No one begins at the end of the path. 

Each is a path of progression. 

And we'll progress to that in the next post.

God, I see trees of green, red roses too... Help me walk that path.

For now,

D

A Stumbler's Walk | BLESSED... (Pondering the First Psalm)

Blessed is the person who...

Psalm 1:1

The first Psalm speaks to me. It remains vibrant and hopeful, challenging and refreshing. 

It begins, Blessed is the person... That is an attention-grasper. I want to be blessed. I'm sorry if that comes across as selfish. It isn't. The great thing about real blessing is there is enough to go around. Blessing is not a pie; that when you take a piece and someone else another, there remain two less pieces for me. Blessing is perpetual. It is abundant. It is limitless. Because the true Blessor is all these. 

Blessed is not necessarily a state of financial wealth or physical health. I've known blessed people who had neither. I've known many more who have both... and yet are not - at least by their own admission - blessed. 

Blessed can include stuff, but it is not limited to stuff. It may have a health component, but it is again not bound there. Blessed can encompass relationships; and although I think we're getting warmer, blessed is not defined by a relationship. 

Blessed is all of these and more. Blessed is a state of being. I'm not sure if Blessed is, or if it creates, an attitude. But I know blessed people have a different perspective. Jesus spoke about this state of being, this attitude, in the Thrilla-in-Manilla of sermons (aka, the greatest sermon ever preached),  The Sermon on the Mount. 

Let's expand Psalm 1 by one word: Blessed is the person who... 

A new sense emerges by simply adding the word who. Though we've only added one word, we know what follows will not be something akin to: Blessed is the person who... wins the powerball jackpot. We can feel that blessed as an entitlement is not the direction the Psalmist is headed. Blessed is much more. Blessed, I think we will discover in what follows, is a state of grace that requires and produces a different sort of attitude. Blessed requires and produces a new perspective. Blessed requires and produces a new heart. (By the way, my use of "requires and produces" is kind of chicken-and-egg; they are simultaneous and reciprocal.)

Blessed is the person who... I want that. I want to be that person... for myself, my family and others. What is required? What is produced? Am I truly willing? 

Though we've just begun to chip away at the surface of the blessing boulder, I'm going to bless you by keeping this short. More to come as I ponder the first Psalm. 

God, I am blessed. You have and are blessing me. Help me to know how blessed I am. Help me to bless people. 

For now...

D

A Personal Note to 2017 & 2018

Dear 2017,

Thanks and it was good to know you. You were good to me for the most part.

You certainly brought highs and lows; but overall, the highs were higher than the lows were low. Once in a while I will look back upon you with fondness; and hopefully, very little regret.

Honestly though, it will not be often. I'd rather keep my eyes forward - and in a bit, you will be behind.

You'll have to see yourself out. I plan to sleep through your retirement. So I'll say goodnight old friend. I hope the brotherhood of past years welcomes you to their fraternity and treats you kindly. (Though I'd keep an eye out for 1350 and 1918 (both anno domini), the Dark Ages, and most of the BC years - they can be a bit grumpy and old fashioned.)


Dear 2018,

Welcome. I'm excited to meet you. Forgive me that I'm not up when you arrive. I'd rather have coffee with you after sunrise, than shots with you tonight. Besides, you are going to be meeting a lot of new faces in the next few hours and if you're anything like me with names... well...

I look forward to exploring all you have in store. There will be joys as well as pains, but I have a good feeling about you. I think we will be friends. As a matter of fact, I might make it my resolution.


You know, I just realized something: 2017, like age, you are just a number. You were what I made of you.

And 2018, you are the same; a perfectly clean whiteboard awaiting my squeaky marker. I won't write neatly. There will be misspellings. But I hope to fill you to the borders with love, joy, purpose, family, friends... and a host of passionate pursuits.

It's kind of funny; I wrap up this note in a limbo time between the two of you. And yet here I am. One of you is on the way out, the other coming. And yet I have now. Maybe that is the lesson from all the years past and for those upcoming... I have now. Now is all I have. So now is what I will make the most of.
(And 2018, I promise to try to stop ending sentences with prepositions. Another resolution? Nah.)

So, goodbye and hello.
Your friend,
D

A Stumbler's Walk | BEAUTIFUL PRAYERS

A while ago I was asked to pray at a (non-family*) gathering. I don't specifically recall the occasion or setting. As often happens, the host gathered everyone together and said we were going to have a prayer. Again, as often happens, being the former "professional" in the group, the spinning bottle pointed to me. (I'm being a bit tongue-in-cheek. I certainly don't mind and actually am honored to lead.)

At some point afterward a nice woman approached me and said, "That was a beautiful prayer." I thanked her, appreciating the comment; but not thinking much about it... Until recently. 

That was a beautiful prayer. Was it? Why? Was it eloquent? Did I speak nice flowery words? Was my prayer meant to be beautiful? And if so, to whom? (You should be way ahead of me at this point.)  

If my beautiful prayer is intended for those around me, but not the One to whom prayer-offerings should be made, then it is not a beautiful prayer. It is words - a sermonette at best. If my beautiful prayer is directed toward others, it is not a beautiful prayer. In fact, it is not prayer at all - no matter how tingly we may feel.   

"God is great, God is good... thank you for the food... Amen," can be a beautiful prayer when spoken from a childlike heart. And the most theologically accurate and dramatically eloquent prayer makes it no higher than the ceiling insulation when spoken for the purpose of theological and dramatic self-aggrandizement. 

"Help!" can be a beautiful prayer. 

"Thank you..." can be a beautiful prayer. 

Focused silence can be a beautiful prayer. 

Yet, the most eloquent of words that may move a stadium filled to capacity, dully die-out having not reached heaven if they are spoken to move the masses rather than to reach the ears of God.** 

So what is a beautiful prayer?  I am not a prayer expert, but here are a couple thoughts... the list certainly can be expanded, but you get the idea:

• A prayer of thanks. We see this again and again in Jesus' prayers. (Note: I've often wanted, when asked to pray at a gathering, to say (in my most Billy Graham voice), "Let us pray... (pause)... Thanks." Then I'd watch as people slowly opened one squinting eye to look around, checking if they were going deaf, or if the prayer was over.)
• A prayer of desperation. I love this prayer from Mark's gospel, "I believe; help my unbelief!" God, that's me! Or there is the unspoken desperation of a woman reaching out to simply touch the dust-rubbing hem of Jesus' coat. 
• A prayer of hope. Note the woman above (Matthew 9:19-21).
• A prayer of trust. Peter to Jesus: "To whom else will we go? You have the words of eternal life." (John 6:68)
• A prayer love. Who doesn't cherish being told by their children, "I love you"?

Ultimately, a beautiful prayer is any prayer offered from a seeking and honest heart to a God we hope is listening.

He is.

God, thanks... and help!

For now...

D

*Most family-gathering prayers involve food, and usually prepared by my sister. These prayers are very short, as I am hungry and the food is incredible. Long prayers over food are not beautiful prayers!

**Thank God for grace; that he sees our hearts when our minds and motives get in the way. And he hears what is unknown and unspoken when we are honest with him. Therefore, take what I have written as overstatement. But we should all inspect our hearts when dealing with the most powerful and precious resource available to us... that of personal and intimate communication with the God of the universe; and the opportunity to invite him into our, and others', lives, situations and circumstances. 

A CALL TO WARRIOR-POETS (Pt. 1)

This is an account of (King) David's mighty men... and there was joy in Israel.

 Chronicles 11:11, 12:40

My first brush with the term Warrior-Poet came in the postscript of the movie Braveheart. In voice-over narration, William Wallace gives account of the Battle of Bannockburn, saying: "In the year of our Lord 1314, patriots of Scotland, starving and outnumbered, charged the fields of Bannockburn. They fought like warrior-poets, they fought like Scotsmen, and won their freedom."

https://youtu.be/VFKdiU-ubuI
Bannockburn

The concept of warrior-poet struck me. It has been embedded since.   

The title of this little post is A Call TO Warrior-Poets. It is not, A Call FOR Warrior-Poets. (I learned a long time ago prepositions matter.) Why the distinction? Because warrior-poets are not specially made up heroes - out there somewhere. Unlike Clint Eastwood's Pale Rider, preacher-gunslingers are not going to ride in to save the day. Warrior-poets are normal men... suburban dads and urban millennials; guys gracing the aisles of the local Autozone, pulling daughters' ponytails through scrunchies, mowing lawns in out-dated cargo shorts (socks and sandals), and sitting behind desks.

This post is not intended to be a testosterone-filled rant advocating blood, guts and violence. Nor is the call to don kilts and paint faces blue, though it might be fun. This is a call TO warrior-poets. And the point - if I have one: There is warrior-poet in each of us. It is time to (metaphorically) paint our faces.


Our culture bows to would-be-warriors. These are ones who speak loudly, who make bold, blustery declarations. They seize and hold power they do not deserve. And they exercise that power to their own ends. We see them in every facet of culture. They hold political office. They run up and down fields and courts. They make and star in movies. Sadly, they sometimes stand behind pulpits. But these are not true warriors, and far from warrior-poets. They proclaim victories as their own that others have fought. Their self-aggrandizing boasts, means and motives damage others. And this is anything but warrior-poetic. 

The great thing about a blog is that I can be incomplete with it... and so I will be. These are just first thoughts - maybe not worth reading. Hopefully more will come. I'll wrap up with a couple thoughts on the distinctions of warrior-poets. (Please feel free to lend me some of your own.)

Distinctions of Warrior-Poets (a few... more to come)

Warrior-poets embrace peace, but will tenaciously fight for those they love.
Warrior-poets believe the only life worth living is one lived for something larger than themselves.
Warrior-poets bleed (sometimes literally, usually metaphorically) for the sake of others.
Warrior-poets are not self-professed.
Warrior-poets rise up when it is easier to bow down.
Warrior-poets are works in progress...

Oh, and the Bible reference at the top? We'll get to that next time.

From one WP (in progress) to another, for now...
D

JUST WHAT I'M LOOKING FOR...

You make known to me the path of life;

in your presence there is fullness of joy;

at your right hand are pleasures forevermore. 

- A guy named David... a long time ago; 

Psalm 16:11

This verse popped up on a friend's Facebook wall? page? feed? I don't know... anyway, I saw it this morning. As (too) often happens, I read the first words and familiarity caused me to skip the rest; on about my day. 

But for some reason I paused. Then I went back in for a re-read. (This is free, and not the point of this post, but a great thing about living is we always have opportunity to pause, then go back for a re-read. I realize we cannot truly go back; we cannot relive yesterday. But we can always reflect, learn, extract the joy and pain, and choose to grow.)

Anyway, I slowly worked my way back through this verse. I am always careful to not read into scripture what is not there. We each bring our experiences and biases to the Book, so we must take such care. If scripture has a living, breathing element to it - and I believe it does - we must let it breathe, speak and soak. 

In my re-read, I was struck. Impacted. You make known the path of life... Wait, I want to know I'm on the right path. I want my journey to count. I want my life's path to mean something. How incredible to be on the path cut by the Path-maker himself. 

In your presence is fullness of joy... Yep, that sounds pretty good too. Not kind of joy. Not happy when things are good joy. Fullness of joy. I'm in. 

At your right hand are pleasures forevermore... It is easy to miss something key here. Pleasure is not the point. Proximity is. The right hand is a picture of perfect fellowship. It is the place of closest friendship and intimacy. The greatest pleasure is that of relationship. 

Familiarity put me in fast-forward. I'm thankful something (Someone) pressed my pause button. And I realized:

God, this is just what I'm looking for... (and please forgive me for ending a sentence with a preposition).

For now...

D 

A Stumbler's Walk | WHO IS WORTHY?

"Who is worthy...?"

"Worthy is the Lamb who was slain..."

--Revelation 5:2, 12

Where do I find my worth? Where do you? 

We are entrenched in a culture that cries out for worth. Get enough likes on social media... worthy. Score a touchdown... worthy. Make enough money... worthy. Busy... worthy. 

Each of these - and most places we search for worth - is based on performance. And that is a problem. 

The movie Urban Cowboy introduced us to the song Looking for Love in All the Wrong Places. In much the same way, we look for worth in all the wrong places. 

The heavenly scene unveiled in Revelation is difficult to comprehend and is often interpreted with skewed perspective or motives (see the footnote on A Stumbler's Walk | THE DOOR). The central character and theme of chapter five, and the Revelation as a whole, is Jesus. When we strip away the apocalyptic and other-worldly pictures, what emerges is Jesus as the victorious Worthy One. 

You and I are worthy not because of our Instagram likes or net worth. We are worthy because we are worth something (everything) to the Worthy One. We are worthy because God created us with worth. And he finds us so worth it, that Jesus (The Worthy One) sacrificed himself for us - even when our worth was tarnished by selfishness, false proclamations of worth, and shadowy feelings of worthlessness. 

You and I are worth more than we can ever know. This, not because of of our performance, but because of who we are. You ask my why I'm worthy? Because the (only) One who is truly worthy in and of himself said so! And that's enough. 

God, The Lamb is Worthy! And because He is, I can truly find my worth. 

For now...

D