Out of the Cellar

    Salt and light, Jesus called us to be salt and light. What does that mean in today’s world, in this country, in

this election season? How do I serve as salt and light? In this time of great acrimony, accusation, and extreme polarization how do I best serve God, the Body of Christ (locally and dispersed), and my community? What can I bring to the table? How can I best represent God while engaging in this election cycle?

     Some would council withdrawal, claiming the system is so corrupt as to make any attempt at a good decision impossible. Many in the ancient world took this view, generating the monastic movement, which remains with us today. Scripture does provide some support for such withdrawal, but a monastic life-style provides its own challenges and problems. Additionally, I do not see Jesus living a monastic life in the gospels. Of course there were time when He took the apostles aside for a season of recovery and instruction. But the Biblical record shows a Jesus who moved in His society. Given that, I find total withdrawal from the political scene unsupportable. Salt kept in the cellar does no one any good as it cannot serve any of its intended functions. Salt must come out.

     A great many Christians today fully engage in the system, supporting one party or another. Politicians of all stripes court the “Evangelical” vote. Success in certain sectors of the country depends upon a politician’s ability to speak to the critical issues of that region’s religious electorate. Sadly, Christians often succumb these blandishments, promises of support or true belief, endorsing the party or candidate with great fervor and commitment. This level or type of activity brings its own set of problems. When we unstintingly support one party or another, we must carry their baggage. As human institutions, parties remain flawed, displaying a variety of foibles and certain severe failings. No human endeavor escapes our pernicious fallen state. Sin pervades all political enterprises. Embracing a political party as “my” party, tars me with its inherent failings. Also such party affiliation tends to divide us from fellow Christians. We see harsh and divisive speech between fellow Christians in public media all too often. Someone posts support for one candidate or another and fellow Christians spew all manner of bile across the posting. Most of us know certain people we avoid, or certain topics we avoid around them.

     Often we adopt a one issue focus in response to problems generated by party affiliation. We ignore other problem areas, drawing a modicum of comfort from the party stance on our key issue. Sadly this frequently causes us to take the additional step of justifying policies or platforms contrary to Biblical standards. We wring scripture hoping to find justification for our support. Such proof-texting does damage to Holy Writ and I fear may grieve the Lord. So what are we to do? What type of participation involves action without wholesale support for one party or another?

     I believe we ought to participate without courting or accepting party affiliation. Party affiliation diminishes our prophetic voice. Standing outside the party allows one to speak critically of the party. A nonaffiliated person may speak to any key issue. Once I affiliate with a party then I must tread very carefully when talking about certain issues or planks in the platform. As a Christian this allows me to focus on a wider variety of issues. Unbound by party strictures, I am free to raise issues that I believe important. I can agitate as the Spirit might lead. In Philippians 3:19-21, Paul reminds us that our citizenship is in heaven. And while I would not censor a fellow believer for party affiliation, I believe that we would better serve God and our nation outside that system, speaking God’s love, His stringent love, boldly.

     A second tactic I would recommend is the secret ballot. In our nation we enjoy the privilege of a secret ballot. No one need know who I voted for. Obviously, those who are close to me, exchanging thoughts and ideas probably can make a good guess, but I need not say. Additionally, one might, and this is hard for me, focus on issues as opposed to individuals. In this particular cycle, we see a lot of, “I will vote against this or that person.” That is the individual’s right. But perhaps we, our nation, and, dare I say, the Lord, might be better served if we carefully thought through all the issues at hand. If we steadfastly speak to issues, eschewing personal attacks, we might find ourselves spilling out of the salt-cellar and working as Jesus intended. In John 6 Jesus, sensing the crowd’s political desires avoided political entanglements. We might consider adopting a similar attitude and retain our ability to speak truth. There is one final thing we might consider.

     As Christians we must always deal kindly with our brothers and sisters, remembering our own failure and need for God’s grace. Political dialogues need not become acrimonious, especially between fellow believers. Sometimes I think we assume that engaging in political speech somehow negates the need for graciousness and patience. We do not have to attack one another. We must strengthen our ability to present our ideas and thoughts without resorting to hurtful words and phrases that alienate. We must not allow our political passions to rule us. Instead, we must allow God’s Spirit to rule us, leavening our speech.  And as this campaign unfolds and we engage in the ongoing debate, perhaps through love we will serve our nation as both salt and light, as Jesus would have us.

Climbing with Jesus

     “Matt, do you want to go for a walk before breakfast,” Christy asked this morning? Normally we walk before breakfast. We get up, spend some time in devotions, and then go for our morning preamble. We walk a particular route of two miles in our neighborhood, taking around 28 minutes and 30 seconds, give or take. Spring, summer, fall, and winter you will find us stumping around our neighborhood. Christy, the ever-loving sacrificial spouse even gets up at 5:30 A.M., in the deep dark of winter, to accompany me on my morning rounds. As required, we bundle up. This morning, however, I thought before I answered. This sunrise found us at her parent’s cabin in Cloudcroft, New Mexico.

     I paused before answering. A walk from her parent’s cabin entails hills. Located on a pine-shaded bluff overlooking the highway that enters Cloudcroft from the east, her parent’s cabin sits on high ground. Unlike the roads around Lubbock, all the roads in the area climb and fall, rather steeply at times. In Lubbock, I never think about hills or rise and fall. We have rise and fall. The few times I’ve ridden a bike or run in Lubbock, I’ve become aware of the topography; but only in an academic sense. I know that Quaker, which runs north and south near my house gently climbs as you head north. Things in Cloudcroft are much different, requiring an adjustment in how I view things. Am I willing to head out on a walk which will raise my heart rate along with my elevation? In winter, I think about the conditions of the road; whether walking or driving. Do I wish to navigate the grade? While on walks and I look at cabins as places to stay, making mental note about which ones would require a four-wheel drive in the snows of winter…almost all. My point of view has changed.

     A relationship with Jesus calls us to such radical change. Walks around my neighborhood in Lubbock are casual affairs with little thought to cardiovascular affect. If I want to push myself in Lubbock, I must increase the pace. Getting past the drive, which slopes downhill, will elevate the heart-rate here in Cloudcroft; which may say quite a bit about my sedentary life. The simple act of walking is quite different here. Jesus calls me to such a change. Simple adjustments do not come near the radical alteration He desires. Life with Jesus implies a totally new approach; a new viewpoint. He wants to remake me, to lift me into the rarified atmosphere of His presence, and that changes everything. I no longer view the world and those who travel its surface like I used to.

     Often I make the mistake that somehow Jesus just wants to clean me up, make me presentable; spiritually speaking as it were. Jesus wants so much more, demands it in fact. He wants to totally remake me, top to bottom. We’re not talking about a nick of paint here, a touch of spackle there. No, Jesus wants to totally renovate, knocking out walls, adding new rooms, tearing out old dark and dingy spaces. He wants to radically change how I view things, how I make my decisions, and how I interact with the community around me. I often want to continue on my easy morning walk. Jesus wants me to go to a new and different level. Before acquiescing, He urges me to count the cost.

     And that is particularly challenging for us as Christians today. We, in our Western culture, want things easy. We like drive-through Christianity as it were. We’ve settled for a homogenized anemic version of Christianity. We don’t mind cleaning up a bit, scrubbing off some of the more obvious stains, but do not wish to embrace the stringent call of Christ. Jesus calls us up and out. He wants to take us into the rarified air and that stretches our lungs. Loving those who are different is not easy. Laying down our lives, taking risk, sacrificing our comfort does not come easy. We want the safety and comfort of the flatlands, terrain that does not elevate the heart-rate. Submission to Christ, being His disciple, does not allow for such an anemic response. He reaches out to us, drawing us into a new existence, one where we no longer view things as we used to. From altitude, we see things more clearly. Looking at pictures from Cloudcroft the sky seems more vibrant, less subdued, clouds crisper, more dramatic. Jesus wants a similar effect on our spiritual vision.

     Climbing with Christ opens our eyes to the fact that we are related to all mankind. After all, He bled and died for each of us and yearns to embrace all of us. Driven by that salient fact we must reach out as He did, seeking to love all we meet. Of course this lifestyle includes risk. Jesus loved unconditionally and it cost Him dearly. He calls us to the same manner of life. Often when hiking around Cloudcroft my rate soars with the altitude, but the rewards when I stand on the high-ground with chest heaving and heart pounding surpass. Life with Him exercises me; but, the view, oh my the view.

Flower Pots

     Flowers are not the only things that grow in my garden. Gardening nourishes my soul. As always, God’s spirit teaches in the little things I encounter as I work in my garden. I never know exactly what lesson He has in store as I grub around in my little patch. Of this I am sure, He works on me while I work on my, His really, plants. Each year, I don my worn shorts, roll up my sleeves, and He gets to work.

     I first turn to preparing my pots; which languished all winter long beside my house out of sight and out of mind. Previous years plants slowly disintegrate under the weight of winter rain and snow.

Dead roots shrivel and harden into clumps. I take each pot in turn and work the soil, turning it and breaking up the clods. One year I failed to fully and deeply turn the soil in one pot. All summer the flowers in that pot struggled. Not only did they have to deal with the harsh Lubbock sun, they also had to work around those hard spots. Consequently, they never flourished. Oh they grew and produced blossoms, but they never did erupt in the effuse riot of color I expected. Their roots were inhibited. Now, I take my time when preparing, or tilling, the soil. I reach deep, exploring for any hardness. Once I find a hard spot, I work it into softness, breaking up the clods, crushing the shriveled roots, and extracting any stones I might find. I take my time doing this, sitting with my legs sprawled out around the pot as I slowly turn it this way or that, plunging my arms in as I grope for any offending mass. It is worth the time and effort.

     Properly prepared pots provide a welcome environment for flowers. They send out roots and new growth quickly. Soon blooms festoon my yard. The pots themselves are worn and drab; however, I do not care. I’m looking for the colorful blossoms. I do not keep the pots around as a collection of statuary. I keep them for the service they provide. They hold what I truly desire, great and abundant beauty.

     My heart is similar. When I harbor hard spots, clumps as it were, God’s Spirit finds it difficult to produce fruit…or blossoms. Jesus talked about this at various times; most notably in His parable about the differing soils. Unlike soil, various urges animate my heart and all too often it clings to those things which create or increase hardness. Bitterness, envy, fear, and lust are just a few of those things which make the soil of my heart coarse, resistant to change. Of all the things that inhibit God’s work in this perhaps fear is the most powerful.

     I fear change. I like sameness in my life. I enjoy the comfort of stability. Constancy was one of the reasons I stayed in the army for so long. Once you understand the rules and roles life in the army is fairly simple. Oh, you change jobs every year or so and move to new assignments every two or three years, but overall life remains remarkably steady. I knew where I stood. The rigid rank structure simplified relationships. The legal requirements of orders provided a certain simplicity. All of these things made life easy. God calls us to a different sort of existence.

     He wants to break up all those hard spots, those places which harbor ill-will toward others, and let in new growth. He calls me to not fear those who are different, to love them, to provide room for them, and to go the extra mile for them. Sadly, I often resist His efforts. I’m used to those hard spots and do not want to risk breaking them up. I find it easier to limp along; comfortable in my complacency. His way involves great risk. He wants to turn over the soil of my heart, working out all the hard spots, until His desired plantings can take root and bloom. I am instant when working in my garden. I do not quit until I’ve worked through all the soil in a pot. God allows me choice. He will let me cling to the flinty parts despite the deleterious effects. But, if I let Him have His way, let Him work His will, the results are quite beautiful and the harvest bountiful.

Black Lives Matter, More than a Policing Issue

    Black lives matter. I read these words all over social media and the news. I also find, “Blue lives matter,” and “Yellow lives matter.” Now I’m seeing “All lives matter.” It seems that some find the movement, “Black Lives Matter” somehow unnerving, annoying, or denigrating to their lives. I believe this view misses the point. Black lives matter is not about policing; though that is the issue most focus on.

     Black lives matter speaks to all of the issues that marginalize Black people in our nation. While it is true that over the past few decades, primarily during my lifetime, we’ve made progress as a nation. We must still bridge the gulf that still remains for a distressing percentage of our fellow citizens. It is true that we elected a Black president, by healthy margins I might add. Unfortunately many of our fellow citizens of color face enormous obstacles in securing their hopes and dreams. The Black Lives Matter movement calls us to improve policing, yes, but so much more as well. Far too many Black children endure second-rate education in third-rate facilities. Private or magnet schools do not exist for most of them. Oh there are a few shining examples which help a handful. But, many still leave school lacking the basic skills needed to pursue a dream; whether it be a university education or a quality job. They do not enjoy all the social mechanisms which pointed me in the right direction.

     Growing up in a white middle-class environment I enjoyed tremendous support for achievement. All around me were good examples of men and women who succeeded. Most families were intact, nuclear families. Everyone expected us to go to school and finish. I do not think I had one friend who failed to finish High School. Most of my friends attended university, with a large percentage finishing. All of us enjoyed encouragement and expectation. For many young Black men and women these supports do not exist. They must develop the motivating and sustaining skills internally, on their own.

     Black Lives Matter calls us to eradicate the societal structures that marginalize and alienate our fellow citizens, our brothers and sisters. We must find ways to improve education, create pay equity, and generate appropriate housing opportunities. We want to extend the “American Dream” to as many as possible. So when we think and talk about “Black Lives Matter,” we’re really talking about a large number of issues that need attention. Incarceration rates are related to, but different than policing. Currently, one of three Black men can expect to serve time in some sort of correctional custody during their lifetime. This involves cultural issues of chronic poverty and judicial issues of sentencing. All of these call for our attention if we seriously want to bridge the gap that currently divides. These issues, and many more, clamor for our attention.

     If we consider the Black Lives Matter movement seriously, we must think through the long-term issues that generate these societal problems. Proper policing is only one of the many issues that plague certain sectors of our society. If we truly believe in the American Dream and other cultural icons we must willingly take steps needed to expand security and prosperity. Walls around gated communities merely exacerbate the problem. We want inclusive solutions. We do not want to leave marginalized groups of have-nots peering over the walls, rattling locked gates, dying in abject poverty. As, arguably, the wealthiest nation on the globe, perhaps in history, we can develop better solutions that bring many more of us into prosperous circumstances. So yes, all lives matter, but that’s not the point. 

Building a Future

     Pain and anguish ooze from all my social and news media. This summer seems awash in violence. Every time I log into Facebook or email another madman has vented his spleen on innocents. Orlando, Minnesota, Baghdad, Istanbul, and Dallas; the list goes on and the toll climbs. I struggle to make some sort of sense of what I perceive as senseless, random violence. Refugees stream out of parts of Iraq and Syria, seeking some sort of sanity in a world where the powerful exert great influence over much of society and great swaths of territory. How does one respond?

     I must share in their grief. I cannot let physical and cultural distance dim my awareness of their plight or render their suffering irrelevant to my current condition. Those reeling under the thumb of the oppressor do not deserve such pain and anguish. They did nothing to warrant such treatment. Our good circumstance, mostly driven by birth and other factors beyond our ability to influence, does not make us more deserving of our present blessings. We so easily forget that God sends the rain on the just and the unjust alike; a very challenging passage (Matthew 5:44-46). We’ve done nothing to merit peace and well-being. So we must push back against those forces that would have us minimize their grief and pain due to their station in life. In some way, their grief is my grief, their pain mine as well, and their loss diminishes me. While we share in their anguish, we cannot let it overwhelm us.

     We must take action to improve our culture, locally and globally. Our decisions inexorably bend ourselves and our culture either toward peace and prosperity for all, or away from it. The day is long past when we must first clamor for our rights, defending our particular piece of political turf. We must adopt a wider view, one that puts the plight of others, near and far, first. We must push back against the deluge of violence, in all forms, that threatens to sweep us away. We bear responsibility for the culture we construct. We will build the world our children and grand-children will inherit. We must look and listen carefully to those who seek our support, financial or political. Those who gladly stoke the fires of anger and fear, seeking to create division do not deserve our support. Neither do those who seek to make a profit from pain or violence in any form. We must find ways to set aside those things on which we differ and come together on common ground.

     The things which bind us together are much greater than those on which we differ. Sadly we often focus on relatively minor variances, feeding our fear of “the other.” Let us look for those areas of commonality, those confluences of human thought and endeavor which all desire. Every father and mother longs for enough food and shelter for their children. They yearn for circumstances which enable their children to engage in education. The vast majority of men and women seek profitable employment that engages the body and soul. Most men seek remuneration that provides for their families and leaves enough free time for a modicum of rest and recreation. We yearn for the time and resources to explore and expand, feeding our spirit through the arts; whether in consumption or creation. These commonalities provide a road-map to the kind of culture we should create.

     Let us labor for conditions that provide those basics; food, shelter, worthwhile labor, adequate pay, and time to engage in those activities that profit the soul or spirit. The recent chaos should not drive us behind walls or gates. Ignored, the violence afar may come this way. We must reject the siren call of isolation that pulls us to our doom and instead embrace the suffering, rolling up our sleeves and bending to the task at hand. We must work, locally and globally, to create a society or culture and provides for the weakest among us. That is how we react to the seemingly random violence. Perhaps, it is not as random as we might wish. Perhaps, we ignored the warning signs too long and now the claxon sounds. But, heeded, it is not too late. The work may be hard and long, but the harvest of peace and prosperity will be worth the effort. To quote the Psalmist in Psalm 126: 5-6,

⁵ Those who sow in tears

    shall reap with shouts of joy!

⁶ He who goes out weeping,

    bearing the seed for sowing,

shall come home with shouts of joy,

    bringing his sheaves with him.

Let us now, in tears, plant the seeds that will bear goodly fruit in due course.

     

The Poinsettia

     Every Christmas my mother gives all the kids a Poinsettia.  It’s not a big thing; just one of the many little things she does that fill our lives with joy. She makes sure that we gather as a family, celebrating birthdays and other happy milestones. An excellent cook, she regularly hosts large gatherings replete with heaping helpings of loving generosity. In many ways her love binds us together as a family. But I digress, this is about a Poinsettia.

     Each year we enjoy the bright red and green foliage. I place them on a stool in the bay-window of our dining area. There they add a more color to our holiday season, reminding us that we are loved and cherished. Dutifully I water them daily; but they never last. Sometime around January they start to fade, dropping their leaves in slow succession until I’m left with a wizened stick, which I throw away. But not this year.

     I’m pecking this out on the second day of July and my annual Poinsettia still sits in its’ place of honor on the stool in the bay window. Flourishing. It continues to add leaves and grow. But it looks very odd. Since I never expected it to last, I did not turn it slightly every day. When you have potted plants you need to turn them a little bit every day in order to keep them symmetrical. If you fail to turn them they grow much more on the side facing the sun. Now, my Poinsettia faces the front yard with very few leaves on the side of the plant that faces inward. I’m not certain what to do. Should I start turning it now in order to bring back some sort of evenness? I just don’t know. What I do know is that my plant loves the sun and puts almost all of its energy toward reaching the sun. In doing so it has changed, slowly over time.

     In a small way this plant speaks to me about my relationship with the Lord. This plant has one central focus…for a plant. It seeks the light. Over time it has expanded and grown a large stem to reach the light. Since I failed to turn it, there are very few leaves that face inside the house, but verdant growth facing the source of the light. This relentless drive has transformed this plant. Due to my ineptness as a plant manager it is an odd looking plant; but, I like it. It reminds me every day that as long as I look to Jesus I will thrive and be transformed.

     God calls me to make His son the central focus of my life. When I do so His light changes me, conforms me to his shape, remaking me in a new form. Many of those bad habits, darker impulses, and selfish motives wither and drop away. I find myself bent toward Him and away from lessor things. In the strong light of His love I flourish, expanding in new ways, finding new and verdant growth where none was expected. Sadly, I often reach for the dim light of this world and then wonder why my growth is anemic at best. Then I’m like the room side of my plant.

     The room side of my plant still has a few leaves. They are small, faded, and drooping. They will survive but all the growth and deep, rich color resides on the sun side. When we follow the world we will find all growth disappointing. We want the strong vibrant colors of a full life; but refuse to seek the son. Instead we settle for a counterfeit and wonder why we fail to thrive. If we would just face the Son and bask in the light of His presence we would find our world transformed. Paul speaks of this in II Corinthians 3:18 when he talks about us beholding the Lord and being transformed. He reminds me that this is not of my doing, but the Lord’s. He also reminds me that I do not generate this change; God’s Spirit does. My plant took on its current shape due to how I treated it. In a like manner, God changes us into His likeness according to His plan. We cannot be sure how it all turns out, other than we will be like Him.

     I don’t know how long my Poinsettia will last.  I’m in uncharted waters. But I do know two things. As long as it faces the sun, my Poinsettia will thrive in that direction. I also know that as long as I face the Son, I will thrive in the way that He desires. I will ultimately take on His shape and likeness, the shape and likeness I was born to.