5-20-2018 Messiah

Go on up to a high mountain, O Zion, herald of good news; lift up your voice with strength, O Jerusalem, herald of good news; lift it up, fear not; say to the cities of Judah, "Behold your God!"

―Isaiah 40:9

OK Lord, I didn’t even know it was on my bucket list. It was not by my design. Now, it is a part of my spirit’s heart: Accident? Coincidence that this gift is discovered? Hardly.

Our group heard about an evening performance of Handel’s Messiah that was to be held at the Garden Tomb area of Jerusalem, a very special composition in an intimate terraced paradise that I love to visit whenever in your land. The concert had already been rescheduled once due to weather and now was an invitation not to be denied. So our venture began…

―We arrive into this nighttime paradise. Perfect; almost. There is a mild wind chilling the air, and we looked forward to the entertainment as we enter the peaceful courtyard. I explain to the others, who have not been, that this was not the “traditional” site thought to be your temporary resting place after the crucifixion. Instead, it is a fair re-creation of what the area might have looked like in your time. Regardless of its authenticity, the surroundings are beautiful, with stone walkways meandering side to side, stepping up and down alone a terrain lavished with flora which the breeze wafted, intoxicating my soul in preparation for what was to come.

We arrive early and disperse, each of us seeming to have individual preferences of seating location for the event. To my amazement, there is a second-row bench opening just behind and to the right of the conductor who is preparing to warm up the orchestra and choir. I eagerly take my place and happen to look above me. I am sitting directly under a beautiful olive tree that canopies out in peaceful protection of any who seek its sanctuary. I embrace the invitation and give you thanks for this tranquil moment.

It is enough, but you are not through with the blessing. The conductor raises his arms, the musicians become alert and then the air and my ears receive the melodic prelude of one of man’s most earnest attempts to honor you, reflecting your word in music.

An immediate sense of completeness floods my soul. Each note, each chord resonates in cause of reflecting your presence. Here is where I belong. As the soloists and choir join in, I too want to sing, but instead let their voices be mine, rising up in offering a sweet incense of song.

Comfort, comfort my people, says your God. Speak tenderly to Jerusalem, and cry to her that her warfare is ended, that her iniquity is pardoned, that she has received from the LORD's hand double for all her sins. A voice cries: "In the wilderness prepare the way of the LORD; make straight in the desert a highway for our God.                                               

―Isaiah 40:1-3

And not only upwards does your word soar, but outward to the world. Interestingly, the dissonant tones of recorded evening prayers offered to other gods occasionally compete, invading from outside the garden walls. They are respected, the orchestra and singers stop, wait patiently with us, eagerly anticipating the finale of the chants and the restarting of our worship. Handel knew, I can hear it in his composition, that all mankind, if we will only consider the potential, can find you in song, in common prayer, in joined communion, recognizing that even in our best attempts, you are the Completer of our symphony.

         

For to us a child is born, to us a son is given; and the government shall be upon his shoulder, and his name shall be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace. Of the increase of his government and of peace there will be no end, on the throne of David and over his kingdom, to establish it and to uphold it with justice and with righteousness from this time forth and forevermore. The zeal of the LORD of hosts will do this.

―Isaiah 9:6-7

The songs continue and then the wind also begins a crescendo, it is a very cool breath considering this is May. Everyone around me shivers and we huddle, struggling to focus on the beauty of the notes rather than the increasing intensity of the weather. The musicians wrestle as well, their paper music flapping in the breeze and the gusts becoming a part of the concert, wanting to rush what we hope to savor longer.

At a point, however, after the Tenor Contra duet is ended, the conductor turns to us with a smile. “I would also like this to continue, but alas, our God has a different concert to share with us.” We all laugh and he tells of the unique nature of this evening’s work: The first time for a symphony concert in this garden (promising there will be many more); the context of Handel and the first of its kind translation, sung in Hebrew. O what a glorious night. I’m saddened by the shortening of the evening but am rewarded with a final requiem―of course, no Handel’s Messiah ever dares leave out the Halleluiah Chorus, and this is no exception. The choir and the audience suddenly become one; it’s the same with every Messiah concert I’ve ever participated in; the exultations of our hearts cannot be interned, rushing out in harmonies and voices of different countries and cultures. Hebrew, English, Korean, Dutch, and so many others: It is the same word―we all live the exclamation; we all pour it out with understanding of its origins and it Originator.

Halleluiah, Halleluiah, Halleluiah!

For the Lord God omnipotent reigneth.

Halleluiah, Halleluiah!

                                                ―Revelation 19-6

Please don’t let it stop, Lord. Let this be that eternal moment when you return to rule us with your love.

But I know somehow in my heart of hearts, this is not that moment. It will come, but tonight it is just the most perfect and sweetest of reminders. Your kingdom is approaching, its antiphonal procession sung in practiced hope and joy, by your creation in this garden of your creation. Our gang as one had set out to be entertained. Instead, we were enveloped into a symphony of Spirit. You had foreseen it and placed us in the moment; an invitation and feast unexpected and magnificently orchestrated―just as a future day will come when there will be another, last invitation when each of us must a choice, accepting or rejecting your song of love. It may be today, or yet one more. Only you know that final moment.

I can’t wait another day. My heart chooses you now, Lord God, today and maybe yet one more. I long for that day when you shall reign forever and ever.

Amen, Halleluiah!

Mark C.

The Marathon - Days 1 & 2

Day 1-2 The Marathon.

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it. Every athlete exercises self-control in all things. They do it to receive a perishable wreath, but we an imperishable.                                                                                      ―1 Corinthians 9:24-25

It wasn’t life or death, my Lord, but it certainly was a sprint of uncertainty; the events all still fresh and clear in my mind’s eye. The day was beautiful, beginning with my prayers and exercise routine to center me on your plan, not mine. The rest of the day would not be routine whatsoever as this was to be the start of my 3^rd journey to Your Land. There was much to do, between finishing up business, trying to spend a portion of time with my bride, who as you know was not called to be on this trip.

The morning breezed by and suddenly I was entering the airport for a favorite pastime (not):  Security checks are a necessity these days Lord, sad to say. All of us near-do-wells have to submit ourselves to various levels of indignity, because evil lurks―sometimes in the person right next to me.

The good news was that this frisking was brief and efficient. I believe you had something to do with the friendly environment and I give you praise for that.

Now on to my other favorite airport pastime (not): Waiting is a specialty of mine Lord. I have perfected the art of expectation, concocting all sorts of ways to distract myself. Yet, as my grandmother would quip, “The faster I go, the behinder I get.” Special meaning there, the better I get at keeping myself busy while in latent mode, the more time seems to drag.

Regardless; my first flight of three flights was finally boarded and swept me safely on to one of my favorite air-hubs (not): What can I say about JFK Airport that has not already been said, Lord. I have not had the best experiences there over the years and I was all hopeful that, since my last visit, they had worked out the kinks. Instead, I found they had invented some new ones.

Upon arrival, I had 1 hour and 15 minutes to catch my next flight. Under normal circumstances, a doable feat, but the circumstances were instead; JFK Normal.

I got the attention of the first Flight Desk Attendant I could find and he explained in his own mix of Caribbean English, “No problem man, ye jest go ye down dat escalator to its stopping and take a right. Go to them doors before ye and they’ll be a bus a waiting. Take it to Terminal 2, get ye off and then go all dat way through Terminal 2 until ye see Terminal 1 to ye left. There ye go.”

Easy Pease: Lord, I do love to experience fresh perspective through the eyes of humanity, but I confess as a spiritual reveler, trapped in a time-restricted body, sometimes the moment can’t be properly savored. I did manage to get to the bus with the help of another friendly attendant and on that bus I waited again. And waited.

Apparently, the 4 passengers on the bus were not enough for regulations to allow motion and I feared we might wait for another plane to land in order to reach critical mass. Fortunately, some higher power (maybe influenced by the Highest Power?) finally squawked through the walkie-talkie to the driver that his break was over and we should be on our way.

Critical Mass was most definitely reached at the next bus stop where we played the Let’s see how many people we can squeeze into a vehicle game. Now I was feeling a tiny tingling sense of panic―Satan whispering, “Are we running behind schedule?”

I trust in you Lord and at the beginning of the day, I prayed, “Your will be done.” So I pushed through the angst of not being in control and acknowledged: It is your day, your plan.

Finally, we got to Terminal 2 and I serpentined through the crowds. Another friendly attendant explained the next part of the obstacle course in fairly passable Africans/Philippine with a hint of Scotch, I think. “Taker thasr waay to thalr raht. Stay on thasr flowr to thatr doooolr downr tharr. Jarajar Binks could not have explained it better, mesah know.

What he didn’t explain was what to do at the door and I found myself exiting the building onto a car entrance ramp. My God and King, do travelers have this much adventure in the spiritual realms, traveling interdimensionally?

One more friendly attendant was all it took to get me headed left down a sidewalk and across a blocked of parking section to the long sought after Terminal 1. Upon entering, I saw International Chaos on full display. Every country and personage was decoratively represented, except for one. Air France, the one I now desperately sought. A friendly security guard assured me that the Air France desk did indeed exist and it was at the farthest end of the building for my convenience.

I needed to get to the desk because, though I had checked in at my Nashville origin, they had had no clue as to what gate at which I was to depart in New York. After moving my seat assignment so that I wasn’t sitting on the tail of the Jumbo Jet, the friendly lady at the desk assured me that I was not going to make the flight unless I ran really fast. Obviously, she has never seen me run. I did my best imitation however and fortunately encountered a security line that slowed me way down and I no longer had to pretend I was a speedster. The line poured fresh gas on the fire of my doubts about making the flight. I was now again thinking I was going to miss the opportunity you had provided for me to fly to Your Land.

Little did I know (so typical of me) that you were using this to strengthen my faith. I somehow made it through the indignity process in record time and was herded out into a foyer with absolutely no evident directional signs for assistance. I do love JFK (not):

A friendly indignity patter-downer explained to me that I needed to head down the indistinct hallway he pointed toward and to look for Number 5. Thank you Lord, it was all of another two-minute sprint-and-weave between suitcase wheeling pedestrians. I found the big sign marked 5, which was indeed a gate. I am sure I did not present the best image of myself to the next attendant, who assure the profusely sweating me that I had made it to her gate in time; it was just the wrong gate. I needed 5-B; thankfully right next door.

And that’s when things got much, much better Lord. Somehow, my sense of utter futility must have impacted the Air France desk attendant at JFK, for she had managed to acquire me the seat of all seats. The bulkhead front seat by the galley, just to the rear of first class: What made it even more special was the design of the plane which also had an exit door by the bulkhead so there was no wall. With the added benefit of there not being any other occupant next to me, it was as if I was sitting in my own private cabin. I was able to stretch out my feet completely, even snooze a bit, get up and do a lap or two, and with the help of a fine French meal with exceptional service from the also friendly air-attendants, to regain my sustenance for the last leg of the trip. Paris to Tel Aviv.

Lord, I know that you were my encourager and strong balm of healing. I recognized your presence as I made my third trip through security without a hitch. I know that you put wonderful, friendly people in my path when needed to guide my steps. Others less trusting in you might say it was just the system working itself out, but I don’t believe systems have that power. I don’t believe that things find their own way to work out well…or not so. I believe in you.

I also believe you put me in the path of others, for your purpose. Did I mention Kinya from the Dominica Republic who did not speak much English (nor I Dominic Francais), but who was carrying her Bible and who was going home? Did I mention the one thing we did learn of one another was that we shared a favorite name for you…Dad? Another Pentecost moment that you fed to both of us – how sweet that was.

Did I mention the French couple on my next flight who were standing and waiting for the flight crew to fix a botched seating assignment? I was corrected in my stereotype which had me thinking the French are mostly an impatient lot. You reminded me again how wrong I could be. Their manners and demeanor through the inconvenience was exemplary. I complemented them and even offered a petit four of their language for encouragement…”C’est La Vie.” They agreed and your seed of fellowship was planted.

What about the phone technician who, after I landed in Tel Aviv, patiently helped me for 45 minutes of programming hell to get my internet properly functioning.

All along the way, there was a constant sense that, whatever was happening had your stamp of spiritual management on it. Even the perfect weather and flawless flight schedules. OK, there was the fact that I had to wrestle with my international calling system, but that too became a small thing in the shadow of your greater ways.

Lord, the long and short of it was that on this day…two days in fact, you were the long and short of it. Others may agree or scoff, matters not. I know deep within when you are leading in delight and correction and I felt your spirit upon me in every way.

I praise you for that fellowship, especially on this one portion of my journey when I am not sharing the joy and presence of my wife and other Mishpacah traveling companions. I appreciate that we can do this together, not because of what I bring to the table, but because you bring the table itself and provide all, so that my cup will overflow by your filling.

I pray for that filling throughout this trip, and one other thing I can count on without a doubt―your will be done.

Mark C.

4-28-2018 Loud Singing

The LORD your God is in your midst,
a mighty one who will save;
he will rejoice over you with gladness;
he will quiet you by his love;
he will exult over you with loud singing.      ―Zephaniah 3:17

Lord, what a perfect sense of humor is yours. A week ago I was minding my own business, enjoying the normalcy of life when a friend called, sadly to announce he is having physical challenges that will not allow him to lead an already planned group trip to your land, Israel.

“Would you be able to take the group?” he asked. “The trip is in two weeks.”

What? My mind raced. I’m not prepared! I don’t want to say yes, if there is even a chance my friend will recover; I’m not near as capable of shepherding this group as he is. How am I going to afford the time off work?

A thousand other “No’s” flooded my psyche, and then you quieted me with your love and whispered a question, “Do you want to go, do you want to serve me?”

With all my heart and all my soul and all my strength, Lord.

“Then say ‘yes,’ and my will is done.”

Then and there I was reminded again that you are not only the Provider of joy but also the Supplier of the unexpected; both good and correctional. There have certainly been those times when you have set me on a much more unpleasant course; when I had rebelled and had to be quieted with a love made of sterner stuff. I trusted then and you walked with me through the storm. Now, why am I surprised that you can also supply and lead me in undeserved blessing?

Maybe (no, definitely) the guilt of seeing my friend have to step to the side weighs heavy on me. But he has been the biggest encourager of all―besides you Lord. Then there is the matter of my beautiful bride, who shares my passion for the people and the surroundings of Zion. She can’t be with me on this trip and I’m already feeling overwhelmed at the thought of walking it through without her companionship. She too has said, “Go”. I love her all the more for her advocacy. Still, there is that other small point: Confession time; I’d be a liar if I said I haven’t been longing to return again to your place of our genesis and completion―you call so strongly. You’ve been preparing this time. I know it with all I am and for me to deny it now would be a slap to you.

So now, I need to get my spirit straight and be what you have taught me to be…available.

It’s not the first time, it’s simply a new time to walk the high wire of faith, knowing that you have given me the skills and supplied the net: All of it, your design; all to your purpose; all to our mutual fellowship.

So again, here we go, you and I and a new mishpachah―family of explorers to shepherd within Israel. Your ways are not mine, but your way is so much more interesting, so much more instructive. I worship you in the surprise of it. Please guide us and let us be your light to the world as we revel in the wonders and share with the people you will place before us.

Let the words of my mouth, the meditation of my heart and the steps of my feet be acceptable in your sight, O God, my God, my Rock and my Salvation.

Shalom, Mark C.

12-25-17 A Christmas Wish - Seeking the Spiritually Marginalized

 

Who causes sadness, among the gladness, what makes us cry?

  What is the reason, for friends who leave us―it drains my laughter dry.

  Where do I fit in, where do I belong?

  Thought I had it all, thought the price was paid.

  But here I am alone again.

  Where do I fit in, where do I belong?

  I didn’t get back what love I gave―I’m just water down the drain.

                                                                                                Mark A. Cornelius

What a contrast is Christmas,

You Lord, know this best of all: In a time when a master country of unparalleled influence popularized and encouraged strange, even perverse cultural norms.  At a moment when individuals and countries lost themselves and depreciated their deeper beliefs in hopes of not becoming targets of ridicule or even persecution; in a land where your ways and your people were oppressed by an unwelcomed government determined to overrule you on the world stage―you appeared.

Your entry was not grand as I would have expected. Your humble approach in physical life seeming the polar opposite of what any might have imagined if God were to walk as a human. And how did we receive you? As a baby most did not recognize you, as a child you were ignored, as a man you were crucified. You joined the ranks of the marginalized.

“Oh,” many will say now, “I wasn’t there. Had I been, I would have opened my arms to you, cherished and worshiped you, maybe even given you some friendly advice on how to work with us.” Some think you are nothing but a concept; at best a moral example only; at worst an archaic notion easily replaced by supposedly improved societal inventions. Now, as then, we have difficulty fitting you into the framework of our modern self-centric lives.

I think to myself, beyond my belief in you, how can I break the cycle, how can I love you as you loved us? Your answer is a difficult one. “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Not that I can’t or won’t serve my community and the nations beyond. In our defense, Lord, over the centuries and into this era, the world, me included, has demonstrated some capability at stepping up to the plate to donate a dollar, offer support, lend a hand to build a better world. Even the Romans understood this.

Then again, even the psychopath thinks he is improving things by his actions.

We all know the fancy credos: Teach someone to fish and we will all be better. Lift up the downtrodden and we all improve. So we march out, even those who don’t believe in you, to altruistically demarginalize those who have been cast aside. What a good feeling it is to invite them back into the fold.

And then, Lord, you correct me. It is not just their bodies and their minds that have been censured. It is their spirits that you long for. “They know not what they do,” you once said. And yet you sought to forgive them into relationship with you. If they would only ask, seek and knock for the same.

So you teach me once again what I thought I knew differently. It’s not just the physically or culturally aberrant that we sector off into convenient corners, it is the spiritually marginalized―the very ones you encouraged us by your example to touch.

But who are they really that we push aside in favor of our stronger standard? If we reached out to them in a sincere desire for mutual understanding (not forced tolerance), and requested the same in return…an honest dialogue…would your redeeming sacrifice be diminished? Would your better way be risked? Of course not, you assure me in your word. It is not only the why of redemption, but also the how.

Sadly, our human history of how has not been stellar. Instead of listening for the opportunity, learning the personal biography of hurt that each of them carries, and then inviting your Spirit to heal, we unknowingly or uncaringly encourage a more divisive cycle, sifting and censuring the right from the wrong, the best from the worst, the privileged from the unwanted.  Our churches and our institutions separate out those who don’t quite fit our expectations, don’t exactly match our theology or our social constructs. Not that we won’t assist them, we just won’t engage them on a deeper, more sacred level, becoming familiar with their personal creation story, daring to inquire of their salvation, whether or not they are even alert to the need for redemption, being bold enough if they say, “not interested” to hear the honest individual reply in follow up to, “why not?”

Is this the lesson-complete, Teacher? Or is there something more that I’m to receive? I confess that I have spiritually marginalized others…but can others acknowledge that they have denigrated my deeper values? Can we, every one of us, have the courage to admit that the spiritually marginalized are not just them…it is us. And what we have done to one another, we have then done to you.

Forgive us, for we still don’t know what we’re doing…without you.

Lord, I know that all of this is not just about listening, watching, and critiquing. It is as much about doing. That means some action on my part. I want to write about this and will dwell on the subject over a longer course of time. I desire to develop a more concise definition of what it means to be Spiritually Marginalized. But beyond that, you are inspiring in me a new hunger to engage the disengaged, to offer a reliable sanctuary for those who feel they have had their voices muted, their beliefs squelched. I want to invite and openly share in a deeper discourse, where even the faith and practices of those who believe openly and bravely in you may be safely shared without condemnation or reprisal toward their convictions.

And finally, Jesus, since I started with the subject; what does this all have to do with the season of Christmas? This is the season of joy, right? We are supposed to be all about hope and peace. Yet the number of suicides and crimes, the callous way we rush to parties and ambitiously aspire to either give or receive the shiniest gifts, suggest that we are either ignorant of, or resistant to the true purpose of your arrival…your offering of redemption to all who have ever been sidestepped or trampled upon by others. Ironic isn’t it, that all of us fit both the definition of “belittled” and “belittler”? Yet you loved us enough to offer your own marginalized life as a sacrifice for ours.

Thank you for your humble example and your open arms, Lord, that I, and any marginalized journeyer willing to approach, may find a home of truth in the message of your good-will. I pray now in invitation, for others to respond. Let the dialogue begin!

“Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden is light."

                                               Matthew 11:28-30

Peace and Good News from Him to us,

Mark C.

11-2-2017 Faith To Grace

"Do your best to present yourself to God as one approved, a worker who has no 

need to be ashamed, rightly handling the word of truth."   2 Timothy 2:15

Father in heaven,

The season of Advent approaches and I’m preparing, on my knees in contrition. Your son came to earth for the very purpose of unifying us in his salvation and I confess that I don’t feel quite unified with the bride of him who invites us all to the table.

 I admit that I’ve had disagreements with other brothers and sisters in your body, Jesus. I’ve been considering the debates I hear (not just between me and others, but throughout my circle of friends, family, and fellow worshipers) and I think I’m beginning to see a pattern. Here’s how one brand of these discussions typically begin:

            “Are you a Calvinist or an Arminian?”

To some who are reading along in my conversation with You, Father God, this may seem like a question posed in some strange foreign language. But I’m struck by the number of folks who deem their allegiance to John Calvin or Jacobus Arminius; as critical as their devotion to you, Lord Jesus.

In their time, these two theologians offered great considerations concerning the condition of mankind, eternal security, and grace. But sadly, when a contemporary conversation fires up surrounding the two men’s positions, things seem to always go downhill from there. Not that there aren’t valid points from both camps; particularly regarding Grace and Eternal Security―these and the other components of Your redemptive plan are worthy of any believer’s serious study and understanding.

Yet, I wonder sometimes if You see us as children squabbling over prized packages under the tree. Treasures that we should actually be eagerly sharing with others rather than critiquing the wrapping and claiming our individual name to be the only one on the outer tag, regrettably never opening the box together to discover the deeper corporate blessings within? How You must weep at our feeble attempts to diminish the power of Your redemption. Forgive me, Father, along with my fellow followers, for my participation in any selfish attempt at forcing a point. I seek Your wisdom alone in this matter, God of all.

In Proverbs 27:17, You tell us, even encourage, that iron sharpening iron is healthy as long as it leads to a closer relationship together; walking toward Your righteousness. That has recently been proven out for me, individually. I believe, in my case, a slight twist in my personal theology surrounding the gifts of faith and grace is emerging.

I always seem to end up at the same scriptural junction whenever I consider grace―the gift of favor from You to believers which we do not deserve. The verses in mind are Ephesians 2:8-9

“For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

Please, Lord, don’t misunderstand. I do not trust or lean on this one scripture alone. It is but a landmark, arrived at by a path mapped and followed through a winding course of many connecting verses. But, based on the flow of where You are guiding my ecclesiastical journey, it sounds like both faith and grace are mighty important. So much so that I have to ask: Is there an order in which they influence? Does one come before the other?

I had to go way back to Abram to find this one: Abe’s faith in You was credited as righteousness.

So, let me get this straight, Master. Abram has a lineage crisis; You speak into him and tell him You will take care of things, provide him with not only an heir but a planet full of heirs over the course of history to come; He believes You and You act on Your promise. 

Mmmm,  that was a new one for any of us―appearing to be the first time You credit a human with faithful merit mentioned in Your word…

―or is it?

What about Noah? The record says he found chen…grace in Your eyes. How did that happen? Did You just decide he was worth something and the rest of mankind at that time was not? What did You base Noah’s grace on, if anything?  If I’m reading it right, Genesis 6:9 tells all:

“Noah was a righteous man, blameless in his generation. Noah walked with God.”

So…Noah walked with―OT language for “believed in”―You, and You showed him grace. I’m seeing a trend here, an “If―Then Gifting” if I’m not mistaken, Lord:

If I accept Your gift of faith, then You respond with grace.

Please correct me if I’m wrong, Most Wise, I don’t see any scripture refuting this construct. And if that’s the case, then when Paul says in Ephesians 2:8, “…by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not of your own doing; it is the gift of God...” I’m understanding that You do not provide Your gift of undeserved grace without first offering Your gift of faith (which I must choose to receive or reject).

Forgive my own logical leap here, Lord, but if Grace follows Faith, then there is a very important stepping stone I might have missed, and want to have made VERY clear by Your Word and Spirit:

I can’t receive Grace without first choosing Faith in Jesus?

And that means You first offer me Faith as an opportunity. I can choose or reject that Faith (and that is when my struggle with free will begins)…

―then (not before or even simultaneously) I become not Calvin’s or Arminius’; I become Yours! It is something You foresaw happening but did not force to happen. You desired my love as a voluntary response to Your sacrificial love, worked out in Your death and resurrection. I was offered the choice of faith-belief in You, or I could reject You. In my choice of Faith, You responded by pouring Your favor out for me―so much of it that now I can’t hold it within this Mark-jar of clay. It spills over, yet another lavish gift given as evidence to the faith and love that is Messiah Jesus for others to marvel at and then also choose to receive through…Your gift of Faith to them.  Praise You, God of Agape.

If all this is correct Lord, then faith must come first to inspire Yours and my relationship. Grace comes next to eternally protect and sufficiently cement Yours and my relationship.

So it appears to me Lord that:

Faith calls and Grace follows.

Can it be that simple? If what I’ve just stated is Truth, then I’m not sure Calvin or Arminius, either one had it exactly right. Grace does not have to be labeled as “resistible”, or “irresistible”. Grace is Your active gift, simply as a result of my Faith in Jesus. And if that’s the case; being that Grace is Yours to dispense as a perfect response to true Faith, then another inspiration strikes me:

Grace is Irreversible!

After all, once You have eternally decided that Your faithful ones in Messiah should receive Grace, how could such an eternal gift be retracted? Grace through Faith has permanently and indelibly cast its effect on the spiritual DNA of the true believer.

I’m astounded by Your perfect plan, Most High. As Paul so beautifully pointed out, “…neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.”

Now the question is, how do I share this in a way that lifts up and encourages Your body, rather than causes division and barriers to be placed between us? And as important, if not more important; how do I offer this as food for new believers, to reveal to them the glory of Your plan?

If by Your Word and Spirit (not mine), faith calls; Then my reasoning and questions are just seeds of invitation planted by You, the Greater Sower. The invitation is then made, the discussion is then encouraged (and should not be avoided!), but ultimately the choice and results are freely gifted to each of us. Thank You, Lord for such an amazing treasure to share.

I will always welcome the challenges brought on by my sisters and brothers in Christ. You built us with brains that are up to that challenge! But I realize that until The Day, we will all see through a mirror, dimly. I pray that You become the lens to help us walk together toward righteousness without tripping. Focus us on Your priorities, Your purpose, by Your wisdom.

Strengthen our faith, Lord that we may better appreciate Your grace.

Amen,

Mark C.

8-27-2017 Eternal Thoughts of Faith

For by grace you are saved, through faith, and this not of yourselves; it is the gift of God; not of works, that not anyone should boast; for we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God before prepared that we should walk in them.

Ephesians 2:8-10 LITV

  

 My Lord, my God,

You awakened me in the middle of the night with this idea…

“God has two eternal thoughts:

                       First, that His faith in His creation is relational

            The second is that what His creation has faith in is consequential

With the breath of these two thoughts, God loves.”         

I’m frightened by such epiphanies. Are they mine, or Yours? How can I know Your ways? In these times, so many voices cry out, so many claim authority. All I know is where to go in my doubt.

Digging through scripture, I could not find arguments against the expression. In fact, it was verified by a peculiar passage, Mark 11:22 LITV.

And answering, Jesus said to them, 
“Have faith of God.”

As You seem to do a lot, I’ve been led immediately into controversy. No, I understand it’s not for the purpose of tearing apart, but for seeking understanding and resolution on behalf of Your bride―by testing. That is Your calling for me: Not always pleasant, always a challenge―for in the nocturnal message lies a tricky question…Do You, YHWH, have faith?

Most translations of the Mark 11 passage insert the preposition “in” to replace “of” God, but there is more to suggest it is Your faith, not ours that we are being asked to possess. The debate, unbeknownst to me has been longstanding and so, joining in, I have to ask: Why would you, Jesus, command devout Jews to have faith in God? They had that. It was not a matter of having faith, but in the character of that faith. Our measure of that character was on display in the life of the very one who made the request; you Lord Jesus.

And that begs another question. Why would You, all knowing, all seeing God, need faith? In that question, I’m drawn to another consideration which is indeed a brain-twister. You created the heavens and the earth; so somehow, in the eternal mechanics of things, there was a time, before that creation when You foreknew/foresaw Your masterpiece. It was not…yet. And as such, my puny human reasoning tells me that You had to have faith…belief in…the creation, for it to become.

That was then, this is…another dimension, after the fact. And I have to use the only model I’ve been given to work through the next puzzle:

Some day when I come before Your throne, there will be no need for my faith. Your presence will be the evidence of Your existence (what a moment that will be!).  All that will be necessary at that point is love.

So was it the same with You? Once Your creation took form, there was no need for faith.

And what would You do with Your faith, once Your work was manifest?

It appears, at least to me, that You did what only the One Loving God would do…You gifted Your faith to Your children through grace, as Paul so perfectly points out in Ephesians. In other words:

It has never been my faith in You, but Your faith in me that I claim.

Why is this twisty-theology important? The signs and wonders of end-times seem to be piling up. Scriptural prophecy is being fulfilled at an ever increasing rate. The world is becoming more and more resistant to Your authority.  The faith that You have offered to me (and any others who will receive it), is being challenged more stridently, even within Your body.

Many look at the signs and wonders to somehow predict a date of your return, Jesus. Others try to use the same evidence to disprove your existence; explaining all as a man-made formula rather than a spiritually designed miracle. Me? I confess Master that I’m tempted to fixate only on the calendar, I look at the events unfolding and I want to plug in my own calculations – rushing Your plan to completion. Instead, I now ask for you to strengthen the one thing that is provable beyond a doubt…the faith within me, which is Your faith, Father God: My faith OF God.

I ask this not for myself, but for others, because oddly; Your faith within me doesn’t appear to help me any more, or less as it strengthens―a mustard seed amount seems to be all I need according to your words, Savior. Your faith within this clay jar called Mark seems more designed to be evidence for those without faith. And so, I’m to share Your faith, pouring it out of the vessel liberally for others to see and consider.

What happens from that point forward? That’s between You and those others―I have faith in Your process. All I know is that, though Your faith within me may strengthen or weaken; like You, it is eternal. I cannot lose it. It is―because You are.

What a gift.

Lord, the time between your first and second coming is shortening. I pray that, in whatever time is left; I do not try to horde the gift of faith given to me, but find ways to share it more openly. I pray that its evidence sparks fires of new faith within those who now walk in darkness. Let the signs and wonders stir questions in the hearts of all mankind, and let Your faith be seen by them, in me…

―And by that faith; let us all know Your love, YHWH.

 

Amen. Come Lord Jesus…in your time, not mine,

Mark C.

Reference https://www.hopefaithprayer.com/word-of-faith/the-faith-of-god-god-kind-of-faith-smythe/

6-25-2017 A New Day, An Old Story.

Remember the days of old; consider the years of many generations; 

ask your father, and he will show you, your elders, and they will tell you.
―Deuteronomy 32:7

Our family was sitting around the table, Lord. A casual breakfast preparing for a difficult event: the passing of my cousin. Our family though is resilient and we had prepared for this moment. My cousin’s wife, my sister, my wife, other friends and relatives sat there with me to do what we do best…share the stories of life. And so I shared.

I looked at my sister and asked, “Do you remember where we were 50 years ago today?”

She gave me the anticipated puzzled look and I proceeded with my advantage. I explained the coincidence that we had, on this date long ago, moved as a family to Houston Texas. Our father had been promoted in his company and so we were sitting in a motel room with a malfunctioning air conditioner. It was June in Texas, too hot to leave the premises, so we kept the motel door and windows open and did the only thing available, we watched television. It was what was on TV which stamped an indelible exclamation point on this memory. All three channels were covering the Six Day War in Israel.

Lord, You knew then and now, the power of that moment for me, even though it has taken me many years to figure it out. But at a breakfast table fifty years later, I am able to share how You changed my life in that moment long ago. You had planted a seed which began to germinate into a haunting curiosity that would persist and grow into a full-fledged conversation with You. You had cultivated in me a desire and love for Your people and Your land. Many in my family still can’t figure out my great passion for the place…for that matter, my love for You, Jesus. Still, You tell me to continue, in the right times and places, to share my story―not just to my family, but to the world.

I confess that I get the timing wrong and sometimes the words get tangled up in my mouth. But if I look to Your timing, wait for Your moment, just as You waited and planned early on for a young boy to be captured in his heart by a spiritual and physical struggle far away―I too can plant a new seed. It too will germinate in some other heart and…You will enter into the growing conversation.

So my story is really Your story, Lord. And as with many stories that You have combined into Your great telling, it has come about over a course of time. The story is rich and deep and the reward in its sharing is the look in someone’s eyes, the quickening of their heart and the change in their expression as they realize, “this is my story too.”

Lord, I pray for Your story to continue to be in my heart, on my lips and in these pages.

Mark C.