Rediscovering The Sanctity Of Nature

Today I threw on a cardigan, picked up a cup of coffee, and went for a long walk in a park where I do this whole routine religiously. 

I do this because at heart, I am basically a 65 year old man, and also because there is a certain connection that I feel with God when I am in nature.

All creations reveal something about their creator (Romans 1:18 & Psalms 119). While this is often spoken of in reference to God's creation, it is also true of man's creation.

Today we find ourselves living in this creation. On the exterior it is made of roads and buildings; technology and cars and music. On it's insides, it's rooted in all sorts of motives, both good and evil. The invention is molded and crafted by every kind of person: the righteous, the wicked, the perverse, and the merely misguided. Since ancient times when Cain built the first city, we have been trying our hand at creating some sort of makeshift milieu to call home. 

These creations reflect their makers and often resound with ambition, lust, and greed. Upheaval, tumult and occasionally some deceptive brand of moralism are also usually part of the framework. I mean you can actually feel these things when you are walking down the street. In nature I see the brushstrokes of another artist, I see beauty, peace, and rest. Somehow I feel love and trust when I am there. When I am there  it makes sense to me why it all started in a garden.

If we are to know Christ we must abandon the former creation, in pursuit of the latter. We must abandon the civilized in pursuit of the primitive. In the wilderness like so many great men of faith before us, we will find God, and perhaps even ourselves in the process.

When I am walking there I see other people in the park, they are always trying to accomplish something. They are trying to lose weight, or teach their sons how to play baseball, or walk their dog. I usually let them pass me on the path as I continue my search for a more elusive and eternal prize...

The best parts...

The best parts of life come, I think, when we least expect them.

The other day it was finding a picture of my wife in her blue dress. It was the moment last week in the presence of God on my way to work. Today, it was snuggling with my daughter.

Maybe we are most fulfilled in these times, because for that one fading moment, we are completely and utterly content with the goodness before us.

The psalmist wrote that, “the Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want...” 

How much of our existences is spent striving? How much of our life are we “in want”, in pursuit of something... in vanity?

And what rest could our soul find if, for a few more moments every day, we silenced the insatiable beast whose name is ambition, and enjoyed fully His many benefits?

70 Years In Babylon

There is a need, I think, to find ourselves in the biblical narrative. We must find our struggles in the lives of our heroes and take solace in their victory in spite of their many troubles.

Realizing they were men and women made of dirt just like us, we find peace with being "only human" again.

I have found such comfort in the Israelite's captivity in Babylon.

Think about Jeremiah's words:

"After seventy years are completed, I will visit you and perform my good word toward you, and cause you to return to this place. 

For I know the thoughts that I think towards you, says the Lord, thoughts of peace and not of evil, to give you a future and a hope."

Many of the pages of our story are tales about Babylon. We spend our lives dreaming of Jerusalem. In our hearts, we know we are not Babylonians, we know this isn't who we are, or where we really belong. We are great singers, or writers, or wildlife photographers (I'm grasping at straws here) or whatever you are.

But for the time being we live in Babylon.

I have no answer for these seasons, only compassion for my fellow exiles. I used to have answers about these sorts of things, and catchy spiritual slogans like, "waiting time, isn't waisted time".  I'm not even sure what that even means.

Now I have only the patience that time has taught me, and a well tested gaze which I have spent looking towards the mountains from whence cometh my deliverance.

The Rudiments Of Worship

Worship is impossible without theology.

This is the phrase that has struck me in study lately.

There is no possible adoration for one we do not know. 

How can we praise attributes of the Deity that we are unaware of?

As a writer and musician, and a friend of many artists, I'm reminded of the necessity of study in the life of the believing artist.

As necessary, as scales, is theology. As fundamental as your skill's discipline, is discipleship.

An Advent Of Our Own

Perhaps my favorite character in the narrative of the season is the man Simeon.

Luke tells us that,

"there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him. 26 It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah. 27 Moved by the Spirit, he went into the temple courts. When the parents brought in the child Jesus to do for him what the custom of the Law required, 28 Simeon took him in his arms and praised God, saying:

“Sovereign Lord, as you have promised,

you may now dismiss your servant in peace.

For my eyes have seen your salvation,

which you have prepared in the sight of all nations : 

a light for revelation to the Gentiles,

and the glory of your people Israel.”

 The child’s father and mother marveled at what was said about him."

What strikes me to the core in the passage, is in the 28th verse. 

Simeon takes God the very God into his feeble arms... God in his arms. In a moment of ecstatic doxology he utters his infinite praise to the Father, who has fulfilled his precious promise to him.

Waiting for consolation, he knew that Christ would be his final earthly comfort.

Wearied by the present age, I think in some ways, we are all awaiting such a consolation in Christ. A moment to see, and be seen by God in the flesh. An advent of our own; when either Christ will come, or we will go. When at last, our cups will be full, and our hearts free. And the cares of this life, an ever fading and distant memory of a life that once was.

So may we be reminded by this season to often look towards the eastern sky, awaiting a moment like Simeon's. A moment when our own arms, and our own eyes will be filled with the wonders of Jesus.

On Falling In Love Again

I feel him pushing and pressing closer to the deepest part of my being.

Slowly recapturing my heart, he let's me sense, if only for fleeting moments, his ever so vivid affections for me.

Perhaps, these are the "affections of Christ" which the Apostle speaks of.

Perhaps the only barrier between me and the greatest love I'll ever know is my own shame.

Shame not for some wretched deed; no, shame for my endless wandering from his heart.

And in the face of these constant departures of mine, all I have felt from him is unrelenting commitment.

What am I to do with this unbreakable covenant-keeper; and what with this love, the very fidelity of Christ?

All that is left for me now is... to... surrender.

None Live For Themselves

I think more than anything we fear being found out.

We are scared; scared that people will find out who we really are, warts and all.

We find ourselves often wondering what others see in us and what they think of us.

Our myopic and self centered views on life have paralyzed us.

Why?

Because discovering ourselves over and over, whether in counseling sessions or too much time in isolation or even in self-centered prayer, has led to a deep and magnified view of our failures, flaws, and wounds.

I often find myself in constant preoccupation with these nagging thoughts.

True freedom lies in lending ourselves to others instead of to some sort of introspective paranoia.

My dear friend Sam Choi once told me that humility comes not in thinking less of ourselves, but in not thinking of ourselves at all.

We are reminded by the Apostle to "in humility, consider others better than ourselves", we are told to look "not only to our own interests, but also to the interests of others."

Verily we are told by Christ, that in the end, the man who strives to save his life will lose it, and the man who gives his life will find it.