Ruminations

I’m going through Proverbs.

It’s a strange kind of a manuscript.

I have dutifully read through it humpteen times over the years. I’ve taken snippets of it on various occasions and applied them in various and sundry manners. If you were to ask me if it was a book of the Bible that I enjoy, I’d reply negatively. It seems to lack continuity, almost as though you are reading two line paragraphs that talk about different topics, over and over.

Until recently.

I reasoned that it must be of some value other than to pull random verses out for illustrative purposes, expressions that we blithely throw out when we want to bolster our point.

So, I’m “going through” Proverbs, not reading it. “Going through” it in the sense that I’m listening, going slowly, thinking it through, savoring it instead of simply chewing once and swallowing.

I’ve always disliked tomato soup. Always. A capricious and premeditative choice, I simply assumed that it wasn’t good and that I didn’t want it. I like tomatoes, catsup and spaghetti sauce, but tomato soup just had to be bad.

Imagine my surprise when I discovered that I really do like tomato soup. I immediately thought of green eggs and ham.

So it seems to be with Proverbs…

Isn’t it funny how you can forget things?

I’d forgotten what it was like on Monday after preaching on Sunday. I think I need to take my vocal cords to the gym and put them on a workout routine. What is so odd is that I must do something different when I speak/preach publicly as opposed to when I simply speak or teach in a smaller setting. Perhaps it is the intensity or the situation, but it sure does make me talk funny the next day.

The other odd thing is how I feel physically after preaching and being totally involved on a Sunday. It really is quite silly/strange/unusual that what you would do on any other day and in any other situation would not affect you in the same way. Physically, you really aren’t doing anything strenuous; I suppose that the day trip into the spiritual, at that level, is more depleting than you’d think.

I remember these feelings from way back. I’m familiar with them while campaigning in Brazil. It appears they are back to stay. Hello Monday preaching hangover!

I guess I’d better get myself on that workout routine along with my vocal cords…

Beautiful, mildly crisp, sunny Saturday morning. Great day to get elbow deep in trash.

The Message Church turned out impressively to hit the streets of Leland (well, at least Lincoln Road) to do litter patrol this Saturday morning. What better way to say we want to make a difference than to pick up after folks?! We have concluded, based on our survey of the trash, that Hardee’s must be the best restaurant in old Leland.

We even got some pretty, cute, yellow traffic vests that we got to keep! We now have our parking team’s new attire as a free gift from Brunswick County. With a black magic marker we can even personalize them!

I’ve got to admit, I’m in the process of building a church with a great group of guys… and gals!

Want to see what we’re about? Come check us out tomorrow night at the Comfort Suites Magnolia Greens hotel in Leland. The fun begins at 6:00 p.m. The coffee’s on me.

Think you have to sacrifice when you go to church?

I just received this from pastor Audrey in Ubaúna, Brazil:

We had to stop holding worship services in the church building and we moved to the [Seed of Hope] project. Yesterday [last Sunday] we had almost 150 people and 3 conversions. It was really good. The heat is almost unbearable. It isn’t raining [it is supposed to be at this time of year] and the temperature is running at 112° [44° C]. The worship services in the open air are attracting more people.

Willing to sit in the open air with 112° temps… to go to church?

I’m beginning a new series at The Message this Sunday called Unbelievable. I’ll be exploring the impossibility of Jesus and why his claims are so unbelievable. You might find it… interesting.

Comfort Suites Magnolia Greens in Leland, 6:00 p.m. The coffee is on me!

A commonly quoted proverb in Brazil is God writes straight with crooked lines.

Tonight proved that to be true.

A lovely dinner with a Brazilian and her husband demonstrated to my queen and I how God is writing a story in which we get to play a role that has so many twists and turns –and they all cross– that you need a program to keep them straight. What is especially intriguing is how He has laid it all down years ago for it to be played out in the present.

Frustrating, trying my patience and making me redefine the whole concept of faith.

And I’m having the time of my life!

When the master of ceremonies tasted the water that was now wine, not knowing where it had come from (though, of course, the servants knew)…*

Imagine for just a minute that you are one of these servants. You are a servant, not someone important, and can get into some serious trouble if you are goofing around, especially at an event as big and important as a wedding. Why would you jeopardize significant repercussion because someone told you to “pretend” that the water you yourself poured into the jars was actually wine and to offer it up as such?

Jesus was an unknown commodity at this point. He’d even told his mom just a few minutes earlier to cool it, it wasn’t time yet for his “going public.” So why would these servants be willing to go along with his orders?

Because they knew; they knew the water was now wine. They saw it, probably had even tasted it. They may not have known how it happened, but they were absolutely convinced that they wouldn’t get in trouble presenting it as wine.

How certain are you of what and in whom you believe? If you’ve not seen it, and tasted it, how do you know that it is true? When the brown stuff hits the whirling blades, if what you have isn’t real, it’ll simply be splattered on the walls as your “faith” goes down for the count.

Been there, done that. Not fun. Examine it, take it apart, question it, make it yours. Otherwise, you’d best get some paper towels…

*Go here for the full story.

First times are always more difficult than second times.

Tonight The Message Church celebrated worship for the first time and is now ready to run full steam into the second (and third, and fourth, and on and on…). We had music, prayer, preaching and coffee; all the things that officially make church, church. We set up, we tore down, we had fun. We even had Krispy Kreme donuts!

With a challenge from the lion in the pit being slain on a snowy day, (1 Chronicles 11:22-25), Message has been birthed!

I’ve got a couple of years under my belt and more than my fair share of gray hairs to accent the battles I’ve been engaged in while roaming this globe. I’ve seen enough to know that I don’t know what I thought I did; I’ve done enough to know that I’m not that skilled; I’ve experienced enough to know that you can’t sit on your duff and wait for things to come to you.

Reading the narrative of God getting the Israelites ready to invade Canaan, it seems that some of these lessons were mastered in a less than enthusiastic manner by the weary desert wanderers. I can actually empathize; many of them were learned with great difficulty on my part as well.

What is interesting is that at this point in my life, it seems that some of this lesson-learning is at least becoming more obvious. Not easier, just more obvious. Especially as you slip over to the spiritual side of things.

I’m finding that I can take God at his word and that he will actually do what he says he will do. But, he does expect you (me) to respond accordingly.

Here’s what he told the Israelites:

It is time to break camp and move on…
Look, I am giving all this land to you! Go in and occupy it…

First go-around, they didn’t believe him. Bad choice. Forty years and many deaths later, they come back for a repeat performance. This time they listened. As they say, the rest is history.

I’m there. I’ve not done the forty year thing, mine was a tad shy of thirty. But I’m there. When he says it’s time to break came and occupy the land, I’m at the front of the line.