The Man in the Glass

In my journey through mid-life transition, much of my spirituality has been to focus on integrity. I desperately yearn for my inner values and core spirit to be more fully integrated with what I present to others in the world. In this place of crossroads, the question becomes one of what I value for the second half of my life.

Finding joy in simply being who I am and singing the song of my heart, not in more achieving and accomplishing and getting somewhere, is what life is all about. What a fascinating movement of the soul.

I recently went to a luncheon and heard the following poem read, and it touched me in a deep place. It's from some 80 years ago but it is about being the man I'm called to be. I share it with you today.

It is called "The Man in the Glass" by Peter Dale Wimbrow, Jr.

When you get what you want in your struggle for self
And the world makes you king for a day
Just go to the mirror and look at yourself
And see what that man has to say.

For it isn’t your father, or mother, or wife
Whose judgment upon you must pass
The fellow whose verdict counts most in your life
Is the one staring back from the glass.

He’s the fellow to please – never mind all the rest
For he’s with you, clear to the end
And you’ve passed your most difficult, dangerous test
If the man in the glass is your friend.

You may fool the whole world down the pathway of years
And get pats on the back as you pass
But your final reward will be heartache and tears
If you’ve cheated the man in the glass.

Prayer for Unity in the Body of Christ

Yesterday in worship, I shared with a heavy heart about the upcoming protest that has been announced for this Saturday by the Westboro Baptist Church from Topeka, Kansas on the campus of the University of Alabama. Today, I ask for your fervent prayers for unity in the body of Christ.

Please take some time, perhaps on Saturday in particular, for prayer. In the spirit of Christian love, we need to pray for those who bring discord to the Church, rather than participating in a spirit of disunity by being spiteful in return.

On Saturday, Tuscaloosa will witness a great expression of disunity, of spiritual arrogance and fractured Christianity, of hatred disguised as Christian love. The protest will be right there on campus. Most have heard of this church’s activities. They are known for inflammatory protests, for picketing funerals, military events, and places of tragedy with signs as offensive as “God hates fags” and “Thank God for dead soldiers”. They have said that they plan to do this in Tuscaloosa to "remind them of the wrath of God that visited them two years ago," when six Alabama students and 47 other people were killed. The church claims God is punishing America for our sin.

I appreciate the response of the mayor of Tuscaloosa, acknowledging their right to protest peacefully, but adding that "Personally, I have a different take. The God I saw after April 27 was a God of love, compassion and generosity." That is my point of view as well.

Events like this remind me there is so much brokenness in body of Christ. Sometimes we are NOT one as Jesus prayed for us to be one. If you need it as you pray, information is available on their website which is, sadly, named "www.godhatesfags.com." There they espouse their beliefs, which include this statement openly directed at those of us in Methodist tradition:

Even though the Arminian lies that "God loves everyone" and "Jesus died for everyone" are being taught from nearly every pulpit in this generation, this hasn't always been the case. If you are in a church that supposedly believes the Bible, and you are hearing these lies, then your church doesn't teach what the Bible teaches.

When I consider groups in Church history that have been divisive, my heart leads me back to Jesus' prayer in John chapter 17. His prayer for all of who would follow him is that we are one, just as he and the Father were one. For Jesus, this is not a criticism of those who have disagreement. Rather, it is an invitation for all his followers to participate in the life of the Trinity and the communion of love.

Unity is not just a local yearning for churches, who in the spirit of Christ need to find ways to value each other and hear each other's voices in openness of communication and respect. Unity is a macro-church need.

Let us begin by praying for, not just criticizing, the people who will be picketing on Saturday. We may never really know what pain and hurt has led them to this place of condemnation. This Sunday, on the day of Pentecost, let us get in touch with the fire of the Holy Spirit that brought miraculous unity in the beginnings of the church. Let us pray for that fire to burn brightly in our hearts.

Stained Glass Spirituality

Since the very beginnings of the Christian church, artistry has evolved to tell the story and celebrate the faith. Second only to the preached word (but more prominently in history than reading text), it has been one of the central ways the faith has been transmuted from one generation to the next.

This past Sunday night, I thoroughly enjoyed my congregation's "Celebration of the Stained Glass Windows." In the book that we have recently published, there are meditations and scriptures on the various stained glass windows and symbols that bless our worship space.

It has occurred to me that many of the symbols in the rose windows appeared very early in Christian history. For the first 300 years of Christian practice, there was no opportunity for large public worship gatherings because of rampant persecution. In the days of the catacombs, ancient burial grounds where Christians gathered in secret to worship, many of these secret symbols began to appear. The fish (ichthus in Greek) is the most well known of these ancient secret symbols. So Christian artistry thus began.

And we have continued that tradition in many of our sanctuaries. Most Christians in history could not read the Bible (because it was either inaccessible to them, or it was not translated into their spoken language, or because they were not educated at all). Yet all Christians in history have seen the symbols that are most dear to our faith. They tie us together as the body of Christ in ways that cross over cultures and generations.

Reclaiming art as part of central mission of the church will be a key to the future, because people are becoming less text oriented and more image based. We process information through hypertext and video clip and fast images in advertising. As an "auditory artist" (musician), it blesses me to think about how reclaiming the arts will energize and reinvigorate God's church in the future.

Wherever you live and worship, I invite you to spend some quiet time in your worship space. No matter what style of worship your church practices, most likely there are important symbols there, even the furniture itself, that speaks a theology and spirituality.

At Saint Mark, the rose windows reflect the great mystery of Trinity with the most ancient symbols of faith. The nativity window, second in prominence only to the rose windows, reflects the other great mystery of faith, the incarnation and the mingling of the divine and human in the person of Christ. The Old Testament characters in the windows - David, Moses, Isaiah, and Abraham - prefigure Christ and give us a sound theology of his person. The stories of Jesus that surround us root us in the teachings, miracles, and radical hospitality of our Savior. The unique guardian angel watching over precious children as they walk over the bridge reminds us how important it is at Saint Mark to pass the joy of the gospel from one generation to the next.

This is our spirituality. This is our life.

Prayer for a Week of Tragedy and Terror

My friend Lonna Lynn Higgs is a pastor and chaplain for the United Methodist Children's Home in Alabama. She shared this beautiful prayer in her email "Lines from Lonna Lynn," and I share it with you with her permission.

Great and Loving God,

All around are beautiful signs of life in the warmth of the sun and the flowers of springtime. With the greening of the trees, the world is awash in new beginnings. But computer screens and cell phones portray a very different world, an ugly world where beautiful lives meet horrible untimely ends. In moments of tragedy and terror, you, Lord, are the first of the first responders. It is your divine strength and energy that emboldens the brave souls that risk their lives to stop the pain and save the suffering. It is your power that sends forth waves of selfless compassion in answer to senseless, selfish violence. May those waves of compassion wash over fatalities and families, injured victims and damaged communities. This day we remember everyone affected by the bombings in Boston, the factory explosion in Texas and other tragedies that have not made the news.

Forgive us when faith fails us in the face of evil. Forgive us when we get lost in desires for revenge and focus on fear. You are a God of love—the one who gave your only Son, not to condemn the world, but to save it; not to tear down and destroy but to build up and to bless. Help us, Lord, to love and not to judge, to come forward with compassion and not to hide away in corners.

Set us anew to the task of living as our Lord Jesus lived. Especially help us love persons who are disconnected, alienated or outcast. Inspire us to offer ourselves as caring companions with whom they can share their loneliness. Perhaps they will let go of smoldering frustration before it sparks into violence. Perhaps they will hear your still, small voice and accept the truth that sets them free. Perhaps they will find a life of joy and peace.

It is peace that the world needs, O God of Life. Send it, we pray. Send the peace that passes all understanding. Let it rain down, fill up and pour forth from the hearts of your people. Let peace overflow into a mighty healing river that flows into Boston; into West, Texas; and into every wounded spirit. Let it flow on and on until all people love you and suffering and sorrow end. All this we ask in the name of Jesus Christ who is the Prince of Peace.

Amen.

The attached picture of a candle comes from an advertisement for an interfaith prayer service for the Boston Marathon.

Another Powerful Resurrection Hymn by Charles Wesley

Here is another hymn of Charles Wesley from his collection "Hymns for Our Lord's Resurrection." I find that so many of his hymns (particularly those that are not in modern hymnals) are strikingly Ignatian. I am using that word to describe the spirituality of letting yourself step into a Biblical narrative and "finding our place" in the story, something Ignatius taught well.

In this case, the singer is stepping into the role of Mary Magdalene and reflecting and experiencing the resurrection through her. Though critics say the last half of the second verse is scripturally inaccurate, it is a blessing to pray this hymn. I hope it blesses your continued Easter journey.

Happy Magdalene, to whom
Christ the Lord vouchsafed t’appear!
Newly risen from the tomb,
Would He first be seen by her?
Her by seven devils possessed,
Till His Word the fiends expelled;
Quenched the hell within her breast,
All her sins and sickness healed.

Yes, to her the Master came,
First His welcome voice she hears:
Jesus calls her by her name,
He the weeping sinner cheers,
Lets her the dear task repeat,
While her eyes again run o’er;
Lets her wash His bleeding feet,
Kiss them, and with joy adore.

Highly favored soul! To her
Farther still His grace extends,
Raises the glad messenger,
Sends her to His drooping friends;
Tidings of their living Lord
First in her report they find:
She must spread the Gospel word,
Teach the teachers of mankind.

Who can now presume to fear?
Who despair his Lord to see?
Jesus, wilt Thou not appear,
Show Thyself alive to me?
Yea, my God, I dare not doubt,
Thou shalt all my sins remove;
Thou hast cast a legion out,
Thou wilt perfect me in love.

Surely Thou hast called me now!
Now I hear the voice divine,
At Thy wounded feet I bow,
Wounded for whose sins but mine!
I have nailed Him to the tree,
I have sent Him to the grave:
But the Lord is ris’n for me,
Hold of Him by faith I have.

Here for ever I would lie,
Didst Thou not Thy servant raise,
Send me forth to testify
All the wonders of Thy grace.
Lo! I at Thy bidding go,
Gladly to Thy followers tell
They their rising God may know,
They the life of Christ may feel.

Hear, ye brethren of the Lord,
(Such as He vouchsafes to call)
O believe the Gospel word,
Christ hath died, and rose for all:
Turn ye from your sins to God,
Haste to Galilee, and see
Him, who bought Thee with His blood,
Him, who rose to live in Thee.

Hymn for Our Lord's Resurrection

In my Methodist hymnal collection, I have a facsimile reprint of "Hymns for Our Lord's Resurrection," one of a number of thematic hymn books of published by Charles Wesley in his lifetime. During Eastertide, I am praying through the texts. I thought I would share the first one in the collection in hopes that it blesses your continued experience of Easter joy.

It was written in 1746, and if you are inclined to sing it, it can be sung to TALLIS' CANON. I love the way it walks through the resurrection appearance narrative and invites us to experience the details afresh. It puts the singer in the story.

All ye that seek the Lord Who died,
Your God for sinners crucified,
Prevent the earliest dawn, and come
To worship at His sacred tomb.

Bring the sweet spices of your sighs,
Your contrite hearts, and streaming eyes,
Your sad complaints, and humble fears;
Come, and embalm Him with your tears.

While thus ye love your souls t’employ,
Your sorrow shall be turned to joy:
Now, let all your grief be o’er!
Believe, and ye shall weep no more.

An earthquake hath the cavern shook,
And burst the door, and rent the rock;
The Lord hath sent His angel down,
And he hath rolled away the stone.

As snow behold his garment white,
His countenance as lightning bright:
He sits, and waves a flaming sword,
And waits upon his rising Lord.

The third auspicious morn is come,
And calls your Savior from the tomb,
The bands of death are torn away,
The yawning tomb gives back its prey.

Could neither seal nor stone secure,
Nor men, nor devils make it sure?
The seal is broke, the stone cast by,
And all the powers of darkness fly.

The body breathes, and lifts His head,
The keepers sink, and fall as dead;
The dead restored to life appear,
The living quake, and die for fear.

No power a band of soldiers have
To keep one body in its grave:
Surely it no dead body was
That could the Roman eagles chase.

The Lord of Life is risen indeed,
To death delivered in your stead;
His rise proclaims your sins forgiv’n,
And show the living way to Heav’n.

Haste then, ye souls that first believe,
Who dare the Gospel-Word receive,
Your faith with joyful hearts confess,
Be bold, be Jesus’ witnesses.

Go tell the followers of your Lord
Their Jesus is to life restored;
He lives, that they His life may find;
He lives, to quicken all mankind.

It was Friday, But Sunday Was a Comin'

A friend and church member wrote this poem after hearing a famous sermon on the subject years ago. I asked if I could share it on my blog. Here it is, with his permission, on this Good Friday. My it bless your day as we enter this holy weekend!

Steve


IT WAS FRIDAY, BUT SUNDAY WAS A COMIN’

It was upon a Friday when he began to bleed,
As he suffered many lashes to pay for you and me.
And as the pain and wounds grew worse, the blood began a runnin’,
He knew just what his purpose was and that Sunday was a comin’.

They lead him through the crowded streets, a cross upon his back;
The physical strength that once was there, He now did surely lack.
The crowds, they sneered and mocked at him and made it all for funin’;
But the Spirit helped Him through it all, ‘cause Sunday was a comin’.

They drove great spikes through hands and feet that had only come to give,
But as He hung there on that tree, he continued to forgive.
Some followers watched Him from a far, while most in fear were runnin’;
They did not know what all this meant, nor that Sunday was a comin’.

As the day of Friday came to close, they laid him in a tomb:
His followers, all completely crushed, their hearts were filled with gloom.
What shall we do? Where shall we hide? Their thoughts were just a runnin’.
Filled with tears and fears they did not know that Sunday was a comin’.

But in that Great White City where God and angels dwell,
There was joy and celebration, Christ had conquered death and hell.
Ole Satan thought he had won the fight with all his wit and cunnin’,
But the angels knew that Friday meant that Sunday was a comin’.

Then at last, the time had come and Sunday did arrive,
And all of Heaven did shout with joy, “The Savior is Alive”.
So now we know when darkness comes with troubles over-runnin’,
We can praise our God when Friday‘s here, cause Sunday is a comin’.

Ron Carroway