None of Us Our Free

Today's Song: None of Us Are Free
The Voice: Solomon Burke

The Thoughts:


as we enter into Advent, we try to put on our old school jewish hats . . . we try to imagine what life was like as they anticipated the messiahs first arrival.

again, we look back and see a people who spent generations in exile . . .
then in slavery . . .
then wandering . . .

they lived a life without a foundation. without safety.

there is a long history of unfortunate things that happened TO the jewish people . . .
but there is also a long, painful story to be told of the constant push and pull between god and his people.
from the beginning, we see this.
and all through the old testament.

i remember sitting in my old testament class during my second semester of seminary . . . i had just graduated from college, where, despite (or perhaps because of) my high involvement in a campus ministry, i left feeling completely disillusioned in my faith. it was rattled. i had arrived at a place where i had too much evidence to deny god's existence . . . i even saw that he was good . . . and that he loved people . . . but i had too much evidence to the contrary to believe that he loved ME.
still, i left college and went to seminary to study the bible and counseling.


i sat in that class, and for the first several months, i was overwhelmed by god's harshness.
the way he punished.
the way he doomed.
the way he cursed.
and even destroyed.

line after line. chapter after chapter.
i was disgusted.
with him.
but the more the people messed up, the more he gave them a second chance. consistently . . .

what an interesting sensibility our god has.
he really took the spiritual, internal reality of his beloved people . . . spiritually enslaved.
and he caused them to have a very external, tangible experience with it.
wow.

we are spititual slaves to anything that is not of god.
on top of their unfaithfulness to god . . . their adulterous hearts . . .
they would eventually become actual, physical, human slaves to an empire that did not, and would not confess god's name.

that is like the ultimate object lesson.

they were enslaved
and they longed to be free

it makes me wonder . . .
what am i enslaved to?

A Word From the Girl

Yesterday was packed.
And today is coming to an end . . .
but know that i am working on writings about the wandering and slavery that give meaning and purpose to this coming Advent Season . . .
i need to bite off small chunks . . . but instead, I am trying to completely relearn the old testament.

to tide you over . . .
listen to my favorite silly ditty . . .
completely irreverant . . .
by Dar Williams . . .
called The Christians and the Pagans

enjoy!

I will be back soon with my thoughts in order.
This everyday blogging thing is a big commitment!

I Am An Orphan Girl

My hope is that this pursuit of Advent's meaning can become an open conversation . . . whoever you are, if you read this blog, throw in your two cents. Let's explore this together.

Todays Song . . . .

We all have a wandering place inside. It is in our souls. It has become a part of our DNA, even, I think. Really. I think that somehow, if it is possible, the results of sin (a spiritual reality) have influenced and changed our physical reality. I know this is not a new thought - but it still just kind of mesmerizes me! We are so intertwined - body, mind, and spirit. Those guys at the YMCA really knew what they were talking about!

That wandering place is different for everyone . . . but it all goes back to "the big apple caper" that I talked about yesterday. Let's not blame Eve . . . . if she didn't do it, I am sure you or I would have. That must have been SOME apple . . . no, that was some lie that she believed! She believed that God didn't really loved her - that he was not setting limits to protect her, but rather to deceive her. Oi! So she bit in . . . and now there is a breech between Him and us.

And so we wander.

Like Jacob and his tribe.

Like Moses and his stragglers.

We wander.

Even though we are connected . . . to others. Even, now, connected to God again . . .

We wander.

As we walk into these first days of Advent, I think it is only right to get in touch with that wandering side of ourselves.

The Israelites, after they entered the Promised Land, still had to wait about 400 years before the promised King would arrive. They anticipated. They yearned.
And they had been yearning for generations.
That is an entire lineage - generation upon generation - of wandering and wondering and yearning and even some disappointment.

And just like disease has found its way into human DNA, I believe that after all of those years of feeling unconnected and unfulfilled . . . first in Egypt, then the desert, and finally "safe" but waiting for a king . . . a wandering heart and a constant feeling of being lost has also made its way into our physical makeup.

So, let's not skip ahead to the elation of longing being fulfilled that comes on December 25 . . .

I think we can really appreciate his arrival more if we first get in touch with how much we long for him.

We won't know the impact of his redeeming qualities if we are not aware of what it is that needs to be redeemed.

And now, the creative therapist in me gets to ask some questions . . .

* Imagine that your "wandering orphan" lives in a part of your body. Where would your orphan be? What color are the walls there? What does the temperature feel like? What does it look like? Is there a smell? Any sound?

* What is your wanderer looking for? How would your wanderer know they have found what they are looking for?

Before I leave you with the song. . .
I found this website yesterday . . . looks like they might be writing a weekly advent meditation.
(jennifer, is this where you went to church in nashville????)


Orphan Girl
I am not sure who wrote this . . . it is sung by Gillian Welch and Emmylou Harris . . . . and others, I am sure.
I suggest you find this on iTunes . . . it is good to hear the aching in these ladies voices.

I am an orphan on God's highway
But I'll share my troubles if you go my way
I have no mother no father
No sister no brother
I am an orphan girl

I have had friendships pure and golden
But the ties of kinship I have not known them
I know no mother no father
No sister no brother
I am an orphan girl

But when He calls me I will be able
To meet my family at God's table
I'll meet my mother my father
My sister my brother
No more orphan girl

Blessed Savior make me willing
And walk beside me until I'm with them
Be my mother my father
My sister my brother
I am an orphan girl

What Is It We Are Waiting For?

The cool thing about yesterday's Advent mix up is that we just bought ourselves a week to explore the back story.
Why do we acknowledge this time of anticipation?
Why do we celebrate a child's birth that took place 2000 years ago?

I have a few thoughts on all of this . . .

Keep in mind a few things . . .
A) It has been 7 years since in sat in my Old Testament seminary classes. So, I know that I might have some of the Biblical details mixed up. I will try to clarify those as I study more this month.
B) These are my thoughts and words about Advent . . . please enjoy them, use them, pass them along . . . but please don't preach them, publish them, or claim them as your own.

Now that we have all of that cleared up . . .


From the time I became a believer in Christ (in my late teens), I can remember feeling disillusioned during the Christmas Eve service at church. The day would go great up to the point that I sat in the dim old church; squirming around in a creaky wooden pew. We wrapped last minute gifts . . . or in my case, we made our last minute gifts and prayed they would dry on time! And then mom made homemade waffles and ham. After washing down a great day with a tall glass of egg nog, we drove to church.

Eventually, I saw Christmas Eve as a time of worship rather than a special night to wear my new dress and oggle at the women who wore fur coats to the late service.

But I always left feeling sad and overwhelmed.
It was clear that what was being said was important.
What we observed was important.

I knew it must be important because there was a 20 foot tree at the front of the building and hundreds of poinsetas placed strategically around the room. The choir, robed in Burgundy and gold, sang songs learned especially for that evening - often times in Latin. Now, I don't know about you, but in my world, if a person makes the effort to learn something in Latin, it is a pretty special occasion.

They had my attention.
It was clear that Christmas was important.

But I felt hard pressed to be changed in my heart by what had happened in Bethlehem so many years ago. Even as an adult, it has been hard to celebrate something that I don't really understand the origin and importance of. Easter is much easier for me. As violent and agonizing as the story is, I get the whole, "he died for your sins and then overcame them" thing.

What has been more difficult to grasp is the process of "waiting" and "anticipating" that Israel went through so many years ago. It is hard to imagine a time in history when people believed the Savior would come . . . they just didn't know when.

The time of Advent leads up to the crescendo of Christ's birth!
But the message that was told was always too big to fit into an hour long service. There were not enough candles or choir robes or words in the Latin language to sufficiently communicate the message. It was like pouring the Pacific Ocean into a Dixie Cup.

Even if it had been possible for them to sufficiently convey the message in one hour, my heart could not hold it; my mind could not comprehend it. Because the Christmas Story is so much longer than what can be told in one hour. It has so little to do with stars and wisemen and mangers. Those are, in my opinion, vivid but gratuitous details that we have grasped tightly to, with the hopes of creating some symbolance of order out of this holiday.

Most sermons are based on 9 or 10 verses of Scripture. That is, if the pastor even uses Scripture anymore! But this message, really, requires the back story of the entire Old Testament and hundreds of years of relationship between God and man to fully appreciate the significance of a young, unmarried girl who risked her life because she believed that an angel told her the child in her belly was from God.

It doesn't do much good to anticipate Christ's arrival if we don't really understand why we need him. You can't yearn for somebody that you don't know. You can't really celebrate the homecoming of a loved one if you didn't miss their absence in the first place.
I suppose that is exactly what the Isrealites did.

By the time of his birth, Christ had been prophesied about for decades. Some people yearned for his anticipated arrival. Sadly, many people lost hope that he would come at all, and the faithful anticipatory crowd tended to be limited to prophets and others who were considered to be the town crazies and overall burdensome to those who just wanted to live their lives without obligation or boundary.

Why did they need a Savior? Why was this Emmanuel's arrival such a big deal? Why were they anticipating him for so long?

We can trace this all the way back to Genesis. From the time Eve's lips tongue tasted lies mixed with apple juice, we needed some help.

We needed a Redeemer. We were disconnected from God after that whole fresh fruit fiasco, and humanity as a whole was desperately in need of a means of repaying an infinite debt.

Later, the nation of Israel is formed in the form of one polygomist who had a falling out with his brother, so he takes his wives and all of their children away from their homes out of his own fear, and ends up in Egypt, where they are enslaved. All of those people suffered because he was a bonehead. Perhaps he was feeling a little like Miss Eve at that moment.

Yes, I am thinking we need a Savior. Because, don't we all make mistakes like this? (. . . the answer . . . it is "yes".)

Later, there is this whole locust and blood thing . . . kind of gruesome. They finally get out of dodge one night after an angel goes through town and knocks off all of the Egyptians. So, they are free, but far from home. So God earmarks a kid with a lisp to lead the group of ex-slaves to a "promised land". But what should have been a three or four day walk takes 40 years.

These people are wandering around and without a King. They cannot go home and they cannot go to the "promised land" due to political unrest. They don't have a poltical leader to protect them.

And they are desperate for one. Why?

A king, a good king, will represent and protect his people. A good king has a voice that is respected and heeded. A good king helps to maintain order and justice.

This is something we all need. And without a good king, we are either unfairly reigned (a dictatorship) or reigned with a weak hand and left to our own devices. There was disorder and injustice - and they longed for someone to come in to guide and protect them.

One problem is that people have historically been disinterested in resolving the breech between themselves and God. It seems much easier and more comfortable to just keep things the way they are.

Israel needed a king. We need a king. The reality is, they had one - from the beginning, God has been king.

But they chose not to follow him. They did not respond to his direction.

So, God promised them a king they might respond to.
A human king.

And so, we wait, like they waited.
We look inside and we see the ways that our souls are just like the state of Isreal back before the Savior was born . . . scared, without direction, and burdened.
It becomes just a bit more clear that this kid whose birthday we celebrate next month, might actually be worth the wait.

Look inside . . . And ask . . .

How do I need to be redeemed?
How do I need to be led?
How do I need to be protected?

These are the reasons a Messiah was promised and delivered. If we don't know why a Redeemer is significant in our lives, then we have no basis on which to anticipate Christ or to celebrate his birth at the end of this month.

And we are left with a belly full of nog and an empty heart.

Sex, Drugs, Rock & Roll . . . and Apparently, Some Truth

They were looking for the Messiah to come on the back of a white stallion. Heck, I bet they expected he would be a grown-up. But he was the baby of an unmarried Jewish girl.

Not quite what you would expect.

But then again, God rarely chooses the obvious path.

I learned that, once again, several years ago when I stumbled upon this song.

A man who is cloaked in rumors about his sexuality, integrity, and drug habits . . .
he saw truth.
and he sings about it.

Let us look for God, today, in places we would never expect Him to be.
Like, for instance, in our hearts.

Still working on my reflections for today . . . going back to the begining . . . thinking about WHY we need a Messiah in the first place.
Whoa - there is just a lot to think about!
But I want to give it sufficient time to make sure I am saying things that are true . . . so, I will try to get that up this afternoon.


Have a great day!

The Christmas Song
by Dave Matthews and Tim Reynolds

She was his girl, he was her boyfriend
She'd be his wife, and make him her husband.
A surprise on the way any day any day
One healthy little giggling, dribbling baby boy
The wisemen came, three made their way
To shower him with love while he lay in the hay
Shower him with love, love, love
Love,love,love
Love,love was all around.
Not very much of his childhood was known
Kept his mother Mary worried always out on his own
He met another Mary, who for a reasonable fee,
Less than reputable was known to be
His heart was full of love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love was all around.
When jesus christ nailed to his tree
Said oh daddy-o, I can see how it all soon will be
I came to shed a little light on this darkening sea
Instead I fear I've spilled the blood of my children all around
The blood of my children all around
The blood of my childrens all around.
So I'm told, so the story goes
The people he knew were less than golden-hearted
Gamblers and robbers,
Drinkers and jokers, all soul searchers
Like you and me, like you and me
Rumors insisted that he soon would be
For his deviations taken into custody
By the authorities, less informed than he
Drinkers and jokers, all soul searchers
Searching for love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love was all around.
Preparations were made for a celebration day
He said eat this bread but think of it as me
Drink this wine and dream it will be the blood of our children all around
The blood of our children all around
The blood of our children all around
Father up above
Why in all this hatred do you fill me up with love, love, love
Love, love, love
Love, love is all around
Father up above
Why in all this hatred do you fill me up with love, fill me love, love, yeah
Love, love, love
Love, love, and the blood of our children all around.

it would seem that today was, in fact, NOT the first Sunday of Advent.
Nope.
That would be NEXT Sunday.
So . . . stay tuned!

Days of Anticipation

"And do this, understanding the present time. The hour has come for you to wake up from your slumber, because our salvation is nearer now than when we first believed. The night is nearly over; the day is almost here. So let us put aside the deeds of darkness and put on the armor of light. Let us behave decently, as in the daytime, not in orgies and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and debauchery, not in dissension and jealousy. Rather, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ, and do not think about how to gratify the desires of the sinful nature."

Today is the first day of Advent.
Growing up this meant that the songs we sang in choir at church began to change.
It meant that at some point, our family would probably be asked to walk an embarrassing, long walk down the long red carpeted aisle of our 100 year old Presbyterian church; one of us, probably my dad (he is the man, after all) or me (I was the one who enjoyed the sound of her own voice) would read a passage from the Bible.
Then one of us, probably my brother (because he was little and cute), would reach up to the elaborate brass candelabra and light a candle. White or purple, depending on the week we were asked to participate.

Advent, they say, is a time of preparation.
The only preparation I took part in during this season was making sure my lipstick matched my tight red sweater.

As the trees loose their leaves and the sun peaks later and sets earlier, they serve as vivid symbols of what happened with Israel before Christ was born.
Quite literally, there was famine and war, due to the lack of a king.
Life was sparse
and dark
and lifeless.
There was a yearning for more.
Much more.

In my soul,
and maybe yours,
there is also famine and war.
It is colder.
Darker.
Much more stark than other times in my life.

And so I find great hope in the promise of this advent season.
Maybe hope like Israel found when they heard that after hundreds (400, I think) of years of leaderless war, that a the promised king might finally be arriving.

It is a time in my life . . . as it was for Israel . . . that is filled with anticipation
wonder
desire
and perhaps a little fear.

What if the king is not coming?
And if he does,
what if he can't help us?

In the end, we find out that it is a bastard baby child that is the promised king.
Not quite what they were hoping for.
And then, later he rides into town on an ass . . . just like the ones he was born amongst . . .
instead of the white horse that a king would ride . . .
and then to top it all off, he gets killed.
Well, not just killed.
Crucified.
The death that is saved for the most vile of criminals.
Super.
Kind of sounds like a trifecta of disappointment and even more despair.
Turns out, it actually is not.
This God of ours has a wild imagination and He gets his work done in the most interesting of ways.
After all, He IS the Creator . . . an artist . . .
and us creative types tend to be a little reckless and unconventional in getting to our intended destination.

But we are not there yet.
Let's not skip ahead.

Right now, we are in a season of promise.
We don't know what is to come . . .
But we hope.
We anticipate.

Things are darker . . . quite literally, as our sun comes for such short visits these days . . .
and for some of us, things are darker inside.
Death.
Disease.
Disappointment.
Depression.

And as we are surrounded by stark darkness, we hear a quiet promise . . .

Things are about to change.
A Savior is coming.
THE Savior is coming.

Here was stand, surrounded by darkness . . .
Yet, we can, should we choose,

anticipate . . .
wait for . . .
watch for . . .

a bright, abundant source of light and life.

Today, should you choose, think about a way you might choose to participate . . .
to daily hope and watch . . .
during this time of waiting.
This time of watching.
Should you need ideas, let me know.
I have a few.

For me . . .

I have a few books stashed here and there.

And I am going to go find a few Paperwhite bulbs today to plant . . .
in rocks . . .
to remind me that life can come even in the most desolate of environments.
And I am going to watch those ugly bulbs everyday . . .
and see what they might do.
I am going to plant them in a glass container so I can watch their roots begin to grow.
Anticipating,
believing,
that they will in fact . . .
come to life.
No, they . . .
we . . .
ARE alive here and now . . .
we just don't appear that way.
We just don't feel that way.
Instead, we hope they (and we)
will bloom.

I also have the desire to put a big old piece of butcher paper up on a closet door for doodling and writing words and verses that stand out during this season of anticipation.
Have not passed that one by Herbie yet . . .
we'll see how he feels about having a collage on the front closet door!

And, finally, I am going to try . . .
to write in this blog daily throughout Advent.
About what I see as I wait.

How do you think you might posture yourself during this time of waiting for the Christ child?

It might be easy.
Your life might be dark and dizzy and volatile.
So, the promise of a peacemaking king might make perfect sense to you.

But maybe you are enjoying life.
Maybe things are easy and breezy.
How nice for you!
And if they are, what might you do to listen to that voice deep inside,
quiet as it may be right now,
that says,
"I need a Savior"?