Love God

Originally written for my church, Ypsilanti Free Methodist Church

We love to say that we love things; lots of things: TV shows, sports teams, and of course, people. We’re naturals when it comes to loving things. Granted, the depth of our love varies. We don’t love pizza the same way we love our spouse (or at least would never say so). At its core, what we call love is a sort of a transaction: emotion and intent manifested through action. We love our spouses so therefor we choose to spend time with them and make sacrifices for them. Yet as quick as we are to say that we love things, we also know the fragility of these loves. Sports teams lose. TV shows drop in quality (usually around the fifth season). Even relationships, in which we have invested so much, can cause us incredible pain.

We are, it would seem, created to love. The question then, becomes what we love.

Jesus was once asked which the greatest command that God ever gave was. Without hesitation, Jesus answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind. This is the first and greatest commandment.” This phrase, known to the Jews as the V’ahavta, part of their statement of faith, Jesus says is the very foundation of most of the Ten Commandments. It underpinned all other acts of obedience.

Jesus tells us who our love is meant for. We were created to love God; not in the way we ‘love’ an activity or a movie franchise, but with every facet of our being. Jesus tells us to love the Lord in a way in which we are willing to sacrifice everything about ourselves (our thoughts, our time, our money, and even our lives) to demonstrate our affection. To those who first followed Jesus, this means sacrificing homes, families, livelihoods, and ultimately their lives. What are we willing to sacrifice? Better still, our love finds its ultimate fulfillment in the Lord. When we love the Lord we are using love for its intended purpose. Unlike all the other things that we ‘love’, the Lord--- and only the Lord will never fail or forsake us.

Our aim here at Ypsifree is to be a community that lives out that first, greatest commandment in all that we do and all that we are both individually and corporately.

In Shadow and Silence

Beside the Soda Butte where the river

lingers vaguely amid the lupine,

the yarrow, and the alpine grasses,

bison lounge ‘neath copse of aspen,

chewing absently, placidly.

Under azure sky, bespotted

by plaintive clouds whose shadows fell

and danced upon the valley floor,

blooms dip their heads in solemn repose.

Here in the tumbledown wilderness,

there grows a rose.

Eagle soars through lofty expanse.

Marmot anxiously circles in quiet

anticipation, gazing up

as that gaudy orb dimmed; fled in

celestial occult into

interminable and utter

darkness. Each bird and beast forlorn,

into chaos led as the moon,

jealous, claims vapid victory.

In the shadow and the silence

there grows a rose.

Hollow, unnatural night grows

muting the high-country air as

the first twittering of night-songs

rise in slow fettered confusion

yet all remains deathly still til

cold, veiled peaks adorned in purple

vestments appear as ashen dawn

crawls laboriously from

its unearthly captivity.

Shapes form. Phantoms depart. Revealed

now, queer shadows bloom, misshapen

from tree and beast; bold escapees

of some unwholesome Neverland,

being forcibly reformed by hands

unseen, into their native states.

The breath of life resumes as death

retreats, mourning fleeting triumph,

into utter annihilation.

The river babbles beneath the

ancient bridge, whose timbers yield slow

to rot and decomposition,

singing sweetly as it ever flows

to points unknown. Still, from shadow

there yet grows a rose.

Two Things about Superman

Here are just a couple of thoughts about Superman, who has become so ubiquitous that we can barely look at him objectively anymore.

So we all marvel at Superman’s x-ray vision. We envy it. It most certainly is useful in busting unsuspecting criminals (who were not wise enough to hide behind lead). Our more adolescent selves view it with much more lurid potential. But consider some of the more challenging aspects of possessing x-ray vision:

(Clark Kent walks into the Daily Planet office)

Perry White: Clark, you’re giving the presentation to the shareholders this morning. No arguments.

Clark: (meekly) You got it Mr. White.

(Clark stands at a podium in front of ten rows of suit and tie clad shareholders.)

Clark: Good morning shareholders.

(Clark looks down at the podium to check his notes and sees that… he is naked)

Clark: Nooooooo! Not again!! Oh, yeah right, x-ray vision.

I mean we get terrified if we have one dream about going into a high school classroom without clothes on. Superman has to deal will it every time he looks down at his own body.

Also….

The vision we have of Superman is this super buff All-American hero and I get that’s part of the appeal he was created for. At the same time, in many iterations of the classic hero, it is the yellow sun of earth that grants him many of his amazing powers. So, I mean, does he really have to be all that fit? I mean it’s good that he keeps himself in shape and looking good and all, but if he were, say, 250 lbs. with a beer gut and a double chin he’d still be able to fly, be impervious to bullets, fire heat vision, leap tall buildings, etc. Sure, he might lose something if he compares himself to other Kryptonians, but I mean he’d still be far superior to every human living on Earth. I wonder how our perception of the “Man of Steel” would change if he had just a bit of a paunch. Would Lois kind of glance up over her fork during dinner at Kal-El and give kind of a disapproving stare as he shoveled another helping of potato salad into his super-efficient Kryptonian gullet?

Standing for truth, justice, and the American way!

This My Soul Knows Very Well

Juggling eccentricities

Bound by cords to current

Ensuring indulgences stay current.

Swimming upstream;

An uphill battle

For fear of missing out

Of an inconceivable pursuit

Of inadequate expectations.

A world gone from dial up

To dialed out;

Form hard bound

To loose-leaf;

From hard fact

To belief.

Are we bound

By gossamer cords when trivial becomes our Right

And Caesar provides his circuses

For the thirsty soul?

There’s a sign reading:

“Please, don’t feed the bears”

And we, like wildlife, gorge unaware,

Choosing all we want

Over all we need.

Its veiled illusion

When every want is streaming,

Streaming,

While all the while drowning, screaming.

When Friday’s release

Brings more excitement

Than Sunday’s relief.

How does the cross fare

With vision impaired?

Just give me these new chains

I’m done with my old ways

I don’t care about justice

I’d rather be entertained.

I don’t care about deep truth

Or freedom’s song

I’ve got a sweet tooth

And this life owes me one.

We don’t need drugs

With Netflix,

Our quick fix,

Our new pill,

Our sweet release.

Noble words of condemnation

With fingers on triggers

And hearts yearning for distraction;

Subtle deceptions,

Hollow consolation

To burdened souls

On weary roads.

Of this my soul knows very well.

Intricate addiction

Insidious design

Illusion to maintain---

A media throne

Inspires a faulty crown

Placing pleasure before your good.

Infections selfishness

Mammon’s little cousin

Indwelling poison

Placed before my brother.

Satanic perversion

Clothed as cheap amusement;

Artistic endeavors

God-lit and beautiful;

Abhorrently tortured; twisted;

A wasteland from Ithilien’s dreams;

Into a pacifying concoction

That places another’s joy

At the foot of my whims.

Of this, this my soul knows

Very well.

Immediate extradition

Requires explicit examination;

A denial of self,

A new emancipation

From the hoodoos of YouTube

And the foolish pursuit of wealth

As the means to remain entertained

Which undermines all else.

It requires deep thoughts

In a darkened room, alone

And a willingness

To put other’s merriment

Before your own.

It requires a severe disconnection

A rending of bone;

A snapping of conceit;

A spiritual insurrection.

Ultimately --- death

For we cannot sustain it

We cannot placate it

This god of entertainment.

Who, oh Lord, can save us?

From a life of vapid searching

Of constant unfulfillment

Of want

Of longing

Of epic disappointment.

That is no life;

No American dream

Though in the half-light of addiction

Sweet it seems.

What hope?

No repeats

Only rebirth.

A quest for pleasure laid upon the altar of stone.

Life anew

For God and neighbor alone.

No half measures.

No Baals of health or wealth.

For idols cannot stand

Against a crucified self.

Of this my soul knows very well.

The Stand

Consider the aspen stand

Ablaze in autumn’s rays

Swaying,

A swooning chorus

In chilling winds

That would break a man

But bending;

Elasticity defying gravity.

While upon a rock

The forest stands

In the fleeting

Comfort of Northern Michigan sand,

A mighty army

--- steadfast, resolute

Yet issuing forth

From a single root---

A solitary vein running

Below, beneath,

Uniting, abiding,

Persevering as one

Emboldened by roots entwined.

If one should fall

--- a tragedy;

A masterpiece,

Yet the stand endures

As decades pass

For purpose breeds in simple things;

Far beyond time and tide;

A greater lord

Than function or form

Kindled by a common flame.

No single tree

Does a forest make.

Even death, that slow embrace;

That subtle entropy

Ensures a future harvest.

Perhaps the greatest victory

Is in becoming the soil

In which children grow.

That darkest shade

Between root and worm

Brings the highest canopy

With leaves aflame;

Tow’ring tall above mossy floor

Inspiring grace and truth and life.

Pt. 5 - New Constellations

In the days immediately after the city went dark there was a mixture of weeping and whimsy. The outage which appeared first as a suspicious novelty grew more insidious as the days and weeks crept on. At the onset though there was a general sense of comradery if not good will. Neighbors who had not spoken in years, if ever, met on porches and patios. Dogs were petted. Children played. It was as idyllic as could be expected with a forty percent vacancy rate.

The world aligned itself to the elements again. The midsummer sun kept the streets occupied with conversation late into the evening. Dusk brought its own merriment.

Still leaning against the brick exterior wall the ladder glinted dimly as here and there candlelight escaped from nearby windows. A thin, cold film of condensation was already forming on its weathered surface. The air was filled with the distant papery rustle of unseen cottonwoods while adolescent crickets tested out their legs. Night had come in cool, dispelling the memory of yet another sweaty day. Breezes unfelt from the ground brought a calming chill up on the roof where two figures lay.

“What’s that one?”

“The Big Dipper, come on dad.”

“Don’t come on me. I’m just making sure they’re actually doing something in school. Okay, what’s that one?”

“I don’t know.”

“That, my dear, is Fortinbras, noble god of the overweight.”

“Dad,” the girl of eleven said laughing as she elbowed her father who lay beside her, staring up at the sky. “Come on, tell the truth.”

“What? How do you know that is not the truth? You freely admitted you had no idea of what it was. And be careful, you almost knocked me off to my death.”

The girl giggled again and cuddled up closer to her father, nestling under his outstretched arm. Unconsciously he pulled her closer. They fell silent for a moment and gazed heavenward at the sky which seemed to have burst open, spilling ten million flakes of confetti into the stratosphere. With no light pollution to obscure them, the stars blazed with a glory even Declan hadn’t seen in years and only then on a trip to the Upper Peninsula. Now, the sky was a bowl of illumination stretching as far into endless darkness as they allowed their eyes to probe.

“And that,” he continued, pointing off to a southern region in the Milky Way, “is Scatalagorious, highly venerated by the Greeks as lord of bowel movements and soiled undergarments.” Tara chucked silently. He could feel here body twitch against his arm. “You can always find it because it’s just to the left of Uranus.” At this his daughter convulsed in laughter and he, unable to resist, laughed too. His mirth though sprung from some deeper well. He embraced it, letting the moment wash over him; breathing it in with each undignified snort. Then as riotous as it had begun, Tara’s laughter ceased. Just like the vast reaches of space, Declan knew the silence behind his daughter’s smile held burgeoning mysteries that he would never begin to understand.

Something ached within him.

In destitute quiet they lay watching the occasional landing lights of passing planes bound for more desirable shores. Here and there a wisp of cloud stole the moon. However never more than few moments passed before it reclaimed its luminous authority.

“How long do you think the power will be out?” Her question struck with such unexpected solemnity that Declan’s was briefly struck mute.

“Probably no longer than last time. A couple of days or so,” his voice spoke vapidly. “DTE says the storm knocked out power throughout the state. Some places will get it back sooner,” he paused, the words lingered, sticky in his throat, “some later.”

They lapsed into silence. Her arm entwined his. The shingles grated slightly against his shoulders and smelled sickly of petroleum.

“Good,” she said quickly, the vigor having returned to her voice. “we can play games and stuff. It’s kinda cool seeing everybody around and out.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Maybe we could ride own to the park tomorrow? Maybe we could ride to the park. Dad?” The question broke him out of a labyrinth of distant, indistinct thoughts.

“Yeah. Maybe.”

Bent

Quick to accuse

Quick to blame

Quick to point to others’ shame

Blind in haste

Blind in pride

Blind to see through others’ eyes

Loud in protest

Loud in judgement

Loud but lacking in discernment

Slow to reason

Slow to seek

Slow in grace a word to speak

Apt to profit

Apt to violence

Apt to turn away in silence

Bent in action

Bent in mind

Bent where graciousness should reside

Conceived in sin

Conceived in hate

Conceived to hold the beggar’s plate

Born to ruin

But born anew

Born with humility to pursue

Peace has come to haggard host

Peace through Christ by grace received

Peace to quell the braggart’s boasts

Peace to cure the dark disease

In love we mirror precious grace

In love forbearance testifies

In love Christ’s purchase finds its face

In love His Spirit unifies.

Philippians 2:3,4

Complete my joy by being of the same mind, having the same love, being in full accord and of one mind. Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count yourselves more significant than yourselves.

Philippians 2:2-3

In continuing his larger theme of unity within the church body, Paul turns his attention to the internal motivations that should guide our interactions. He sandwiches this command between the ultimate aim: unity in the church (2:1,2) and the means of accomplishing it: by imitating Christ (2:5). The eventual aim of the church is a diverse group of believers united in purpose and focus. As new groups of Christians were established either through relocation due to persecution or through the apostles’ missionary journeys, the emphasis became on unifying believers and living out life together in love. Nowhere was there present the concept of the solitary Christian. With that connectivity being assumed, the writers of the New Testament spent considerable ink on encouraging believers to live together unified by the love of Christ in selfless communities.

Here Paul exhorts the Philippians to have the same mind and the same love, for the Lord and for each other. The path to achieving this is to do nothing from selfishness or conceit. Paul’s speaks matter-of-factly but we know too well the difficulty that comes in trying to rid ourselves of selfish ambition.

We need no training in selfishness. We need no tutor in seeking ourselves first. Our bent towards self-preservation and self-fulfillment color nearly everything that we do and every decision that we make. As a product of our own inherited sin nature, it remains a shadowy presence even after we commit our lives to Christ. We can all recall times when our self-focused nature led us into ungodly decisions if not outright sin. Better yet, we can let those close to us testify about them. But while sin remains, it need not reign. We have been given the keys to victory over selfishness. First, though, we must learn to identify its rule in our lives.

While the outward signs of selfishness might seem obvious (prideful talk, boasting, lying, stinginess) we must probe deeper into our lives to root out the more insidious tendrils of conceit. Nearly everything in us and in our society (as an overflow of our collective hearts) bespeaks our self-focus. Our desire for entertainment (not necessarily a bad thing) often is prioritized over others. Consider even our need to advance the corporate ladder; the push to have every career change get us closer and closer to some personally fulfilling mountaintop. What does our need for such approval say about the state of our soul? The demands for self-gratification that gnaw always at the back of our minds show how far we have to go towards embracing a lifestyle of humility. Even our ubiquitous and notable economic system relies chiefly upon the conceit of self-advancement. Once we are able to see how deep the poison actually goes we realize how woefully far we are from the standard of righteousness.

In spite of how short we fall of this aim, Paul commands the Philippians to cast of conceit and selfish ambition and instead count others as more significant that themselves. In our day of ambition and self-actualization we balk at these words. ‘Surely he cannot mean considering others more significant than ourselves. He must mean as significant as we view ourselves.’ The problem is, of course, that we view ourselves as pretty significant. Even the parts of ourselves we don’t like are still given significance in that we spend a considerable amount of time obsessing over them. We are privy to all of the millions of thoughts that pop into our heads. We rest upon the billions of memories that inform our decisions. We are surrounded by ourselves 24 hours a day. Why should we consider ourselves most important? We don’t experience others the way we experience ourselves. Henry David Thoreau summed it up well when he wrote, “I should not talk so much about myself if there were anybody else whom I knew as well.”

Yet we are met with Paul’s words.

A key step in considering others as more significant than ourselves is when God allows us to understand that every single human is filled 24/7 with the same amount of thoughts, dreams, desires, and memories as we are. This realization alone should go far in combatting the temptation toward racism, sexism, political mudslinging, and irrational nationalism as we come to understand that everyone is as complex a universe of thoughts and motivations as we. It is harder to ignore the concerns, needs, and suffering of others when we consider that they are just as complex and unique as ourselves.

However, merely comprehending our equality as complex creations of God is not what Paul is exhorting. Instead, he commands that we consider others more significant that ourselves. This might seem impossible considering both the natural depth of understanding of ourselves and our sinful bent toward selfishness until he presents his example: the attitude of Jesus Christ.

By introducing the example of Christ and emphasizing, quite rightly, his humanity rather than His divinity. Paul presents a practical (though not easy) answer to the question of our selfishness. We turn to Christ and see a human, like us, who not only chose to suffer on the behalf of others though He had done no wrong, but also a man who could have accessed power to avoid such suffering but chose instead to endure it for our sake. The author of Hebrews adds in response to this that we should “consider him who endured from sinners such hostility against himself, so that you may not grow weary or fainthearted.” This would seem to be wise advice for us as well as we seek to consider others before ourselves.

As we progress through our day we are presented with dozens if not hundreds of people who are, quite obviously, not us. How will we interact with them? Will we treat them, at best, as ancillary figures in the drama of our life; as tools towards our own ends, or at worst, as antagonists? What does it look like to abandon our claim to self for the sake of another? How will we respond to the angry customer? The tedious coworker? Our spouse who is frustrated from a long day? Our children who intrude upon our personal time?

By forcing our eyes to Christ in these instances it is demanded that we acknowledge One who put our interests above His own and put the greater glory before His own suffering. If He was able to seek the glory of the Father not just through symbolic sacrifices but a very literal and painful torture and death, surely we can set aside our concerns momentarily and seek the good for our neighbor.

Without turning our thoughts to Jesus and His example, our predisposition towards self-interest will either result in remaining ignorant of others or manipulating them to our benefit. As we learn to consider the concerns of others we will begin (frustratingly slowly at times) to put their needs before our own. This will be painful in the beginning as our spoiled nature fights for ‘what we are owed’. In time, facilitated by frequent glances Christ-ward, we will begin to comprehend that while we chafe at being denied of what we desire, what we actually deserve is condemnation and judgement but that by the mercy of Christ we are saved and given a new life. This new life, which we have received by grace, is not our own to claim and thus we are enabled to give of it freely to others; to put their interests before our own and in doing so subjugating our fathomless self-interest.

To do so we must bring every thought and action to the foot of the cross, examining them with the Spirit and the word as our measures to ensure our motivations are aligned correctly with the Jesus we aspire to emulate. Practices such as the prayer of examen are designed toward this aim.

We must also be conscious of those around us on a daily basis and be dedicated to find out how we can best serve them. This mean going out of our way to actually ask them rather than basing our ‘knowledge’ on assumptions or hearsay.

Finally, we must stay conscious of the example of Christ in all of our interactions and fixing our eyes firmly on Jesus and his example for us.