Amazed

Psalm 19

The heavens declare the glory of God;
    the skies proclaim the work of his hands.
Day after day they pour forth speech;
    night after night they reveal knowledge.
They have no speech, they use no words;
    no sound is heard from them.
Yet their voice goes out into all the earth,
    their words to the ends of the world.

Sometimes I forget that it’s possible to be speechless. Amazed.  Astonished. Astounded.  Awestruck. Overwhelmed.  I get busy, distracted, focused, and when life is swirling around it’s hard to stop and be amazed.  But this morning looking back over the past several days I’m taking some time to be amazed. 

--Amazed at the beauty of the sunset after all the crazy storms on Monday.  “Pour forth speech” (See Psalm 19 above) seems like an understatement sometimes.  That night, after the incredible deluge of water from the sky had moved on and all the remained were the bright pink clouds, the heavens seemed to me to be screaming about the glory of God.

--Amazed at the way God works out circumstances to put people in front of us to say things that we need to hear.  Things didn't go the way I expected this weekend, and thank God that they didn't or I wouldn't have been able to hear from these people.

--Amazed at the perfection of the moment when the worship leader at the church we went to on Sunday started singing the chorus to this song (play youtube below) which is still ringing in my thoughts today.  Lord, I’m amazed by you.  Yes, I am amazed.  And I’m thankful to be reminded to be amazed.

Look at the nations and watch— and be utterly amazed. For I am going to do something in your days that you would not believe, even if you were told. (Habakkuk 1:5)

Be utterly amazed.  We can count on God to be amazing. He’s always amazing.  We’re just too busy to notice and be amazed.  And that’s one of the reasons I love this song.  It reminds us to stop and be amazed and humbled by God.

The people were amazed when they saw the mute speaking, the crippled made well, the lame walking and the blind seeing. And they praised the God of Israel.  (Matthew 15:31)

When people saw what Jesus was doing, they were amazed.  They’d never seen anything like this before.  And they recognized that God was doing something that was beyond belief.  They were seeing it with their own eyes, and so they praised God.   But some couldn’t see it because it was too far outside their understanding or expectation of God.  It wasn’t what they’d expected, and instead of being amazed they were dismayed and disgruntled.  How sad that they didn’t get to enjoy what God was doing.  Being amazed by God is a wonderful thing!

What is God doing right now?  Probably way more than I can comprehend or understand.  But I’ve gotten to see a bit of the evidence over the last few days, and this morning I’m thankful for some moments of amazement that’ve prompted me to praise God.  And I hope you are being amazed by God, too.

I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love, may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:16-19)

 

 

 

 

 

Silence

I went to a retreat one weekend at which the theme was Psalm 46:10—“Be still and know that I am God.”*  As you might expect, there was a wealth of discussion about being still.  Many of the usual “still” times and places were tossed out—nature, church, night, etc.  So how was it that while the retreat leader was talking about those still, quiet moments when we encounter God in special ways, I was thinking about how God has met me in the midst of a thick cloud of sound?  Imagine the cacophony of an edgy electric guitar, the smooth saturated thump of a deep bass, the steady snap and pounding of drums.  There’s nothing still or quiet in this scenario.  Except that there is. What’s still is my heart standing in the midst of the rage of melodies in absolute awe of the God who can touch me through all these waves of sound, drawing me body, mind and soul into the wonder of his presence. My fellow retreaters didn't quite resonate with my explanation of my loud God moments, but they did respect their existence.

Maybe the reason for the stark contrast between my God moment memories and the stillness of that nature retreat place is that stillness is a common factor in my daily life right now, but loud music isn't   Maybe the kinetic learner in me resonates with the physicality of loudness.  I like to worship in ways that involve me physically—dancing, playing, singing.  I like to feel the rhythm, follow the melody, and add my harmony.  The louder the better sometimes.  And to stand quietly still and just sing quiet songs sometimes just seems so inadequate by comparison for praising the Almighty Creator of the Universe.  But sometimes quiet songs are ok, too.  Even in a quiet song, like when I’m at the keyboard, I’m pouring out my praise in lulling and singing strings, whirring organ, or ringing bells.  Magic is maybe the wrong word but it’s the best I have for describing what happens when notes collide in just the right way.  My spirit rings out with those notes and I feel lifted up to God.

The reality is that what’s happening in those incredible moments of close encounters with God has very little to do with the volume level of the world around me.  In the starkness of silence, my heart can be screaming.  In the screaming of guitars, my heart can find peace.  Go figure.  Whatever is happening on the outside is tremendously less important than what’s happening on the inside where God is working on our hearts.


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* This was originally posted on the Krabbe worship blog January 2013.  I'm reposting it today because I was reminded of it yesterday.

We're On Our Way

Where are we going?  That depends.  We’re all on the way somewhere all the time.  We’re on our way to work, to school, to the store, to the movies, to vacation, to retirement.   It seems impossible to NOT be on the way somewhere.  Even when we’re sleeping, we’re on our way to a new day.

What about spiritually?  Whether we intend to be or not, we’re all on the way spiritually as well.  We can be following Jesus’ way, or another way, or drifting along with whatever comes our way.  If we aren’t taking steps to keep ourselves on track with God, then we’re likely to be drifting away.  We can turn that around by just taking time each day to turn to God and thank him for the day.

We also keep on track with going God’s way by coming together each week for worship.  An ongoing theme in worship is the celebration of the resurrection, and talking about how we find joy through different aspects of following Jesus’ ways.  Worship helps keep us going God's way.

Along the way we will hit some bumps, and I hope that church is a place you can come to help you over the bumps, whether that means getting questions answered, or finding a friendly face when you need one.  May it be a place that you can get help with questions and grow in your faith, and be strengthened and renewed to be Jesus’ witnesses to the world.   Most of all, may you know that indescribable and glorious joy that comes from knowing and trusting God in Christ along the way.

 May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope. (Romans 15:13)

 

(Adapted from my "pastor's page" in the Westminster Presbyterian Church of Galveston, Texas May/June 2014 Newsletter "Hey, Lo Down!")

Hungry

“There is a God shaped vacuum in the heart of every man which cannot be filled by any created thing, but only by God, the Creator, made known through Jesus.”   ― Blaise Pascal, Pensées

So much of life is about dealing with that vacuum—that hole.  There’s a song we sing in worship once in awhile that says, “Stir up a hunger in my heart for more of You.” (Paul Baloche)  I sometimes sing it with my fingers crossed, in a sense, because I know what stirring up that hunger really means—it means that I become aware of the vacuum.  I must confess that I, like most people, have become skilled at anesthetizing myself from dealing with the ache that comes with that vacuum.  So many of our modern conveniences are effective at this.  I can turn it off by reading an entertaining book, watching television, playing a computer game, or going to sleep.  I can feed the hunger albeit temporarily with real food—food that tastes amazing works best.  Those things seem so much easier for pacifying the hunger.

The hard reality is that sometimes the ache to fill the God-shaped vacuum really is an ache, and one that isn’t always easy to resolve.  I think sometimes this is what draws me to online connections like Facebook.  We can find God through our interactions with other people, and Facebook is one place that can happen.  This is also what can happen in small group Bible studies, and why I really miss being a part of one.

Worship is another place we get some salve for the ache, and fill up the vacuum a bit.  The more this happens in worship, the more we are drawn to worship, and the more others are drawn to worship.  We tend to seek formulas for making this happen, partly because we want so badly to make sure that it happens as much and as often as possible.  If we are honest, if we haven’t entirely shut off our ability to sense the ache, we are desperate to meet God in worship. 

When worship is effective, we are finding God through the message, the scriptures, the music, and whatever else is happening.   It’s not the music or the message itself, per se, but that it is serving as an effective vehicle to point us to God, to encourage us to be willing to listen for, look for, and be open for the Holy Spirit to help us get a little bit of stuff to fill that vacuum.

Maybe the simple truth is that we do not have because we do not ask?  (James 4:2) The song is asking the Holy Spirit to help us sense our hunger for God, our need to connect with God.  We sometimes hear admonishments about not having prayers that are just laundry lists of requests, but Jesus tells us in his teaching about prayer that we are supposed to ask (Luke 11).  It’s not asking that’s the problem.  We just need to go a little deeper in what we’re asking for.  What we all really want is stuff to fill the vacuum.  So many things seem to fill it but really don’t.  Sometimes the flesh intercedes and fools me into thinking the hunger is purely physical and can be met through purely physical means. The ache is never totally gone, the hunger is never totally satiated.  There are definitely times when God is more present and the hunger is abated.  I think that it will always return until we are finally with God forever.

The psalmist says “Delight yourself in the Lord and he will give you the desires of your heart.” (Psalm 37:4)  May your asking and receiving be delightful today.

Why I Love Presbytery Meetings

Sing to the LORD a new song,
for he has done marvelous things;
his right hand and his holy arm
have worked salvation for him.
Shout for joy to the LORD, all the earth,
burst into jubilant song with music;
make music to the LORD with the harp,
with the harp and the sound of singing,
with trumpets and the blast of the ram's horn—
shout for joy before the LORD, the King.
Psalm 98:1,4-6

I don’t know that you’ll hear many people say that they love presbytery meetings. Most people think of them as a long, boring succession of committee reports peppered with the occasional congregational response a la Roberts Rules of Order: Those in favor, say aye? Aye. Those opposed? Motion carries. But the part I love comes before we get to all that, because presbytery meetings start where everything ought to start, with worship. Sometimes this is worship done exactly like traditional worship is always done, and sometimes the leaders get creative, which is nice, but that’s not what I love about it. I love the singing. Music has always been my favorite part of worship, especially now with contemporary worship and words that speak to my heart much more accessibly than most hymns. Presbytery meetings don’t usually have contemporary music, although some do, but it doesn’t matter what kind of music it is because at presbytery meetings everybody sings. Loudly. The volume level greatly exceeds the average volume level of the average congregation, so much so that you couldn’t possibly miss the difference between this group and your typical church. What’s the difference? Are there more people? Sometimes. But that’s not why it’s louder. These are pastors and elders, people who are not timid about their faith and not in the least timid about singing. That’s why Psalm 98 made me think of presbytery meetings today. The exhortation to “shout” and to “burst into jubilant song” reminds me of what it feels like to be in the midst of people who are putting their all into song.

Now I suppose it’s possible that these pastors are having a bit of pissing contest, if you’ll pardon the idiom, trying to show off their grand voices and see who can sing loudest, but I don’t think so, and I’ll tell you why. The very first time I experienced this loud-singing phenomenon was nearly 20 years ago when contemporary worship with electric guitars and drums was still new and unusual. Our worship team was asked to play for a presbytery meeting so that those assembled could see what our church was doing. We were the renegades of the presbytery, the outlaws, and we weren’t quite sure how our worship leading would be received. We needn’t have worried. We were used to our amplified offerings drowning out the congregation’s voices, for the most part, but when we played for presbytery, we found that this congregation held its own. These were no shirkers. They were not put off by new songs or new instruments. They sang their hearts out. They filled the room with jubilant song as much or more than our instruments did. And we were amazed. We didn’t expect this from stuffy pastors and presbyters. This was as good as leading teenagers—a little more orderly, of course, but no less energetic. They sang with us. It made me smile (after I got over my surprise), and it still does today. And I like to think that God smiles, too, and that’s the very best part. For he has done marvelous things and he deserves our loudest praises.