3-31-2019 The Honest Answer

2-5-2019 Wait for it

Lord, I'm making progress on my devotional book, the one you have inspired me to pursue. As previously admitted, it's not the easiest writing I've done. In fact, it requires a lot of detailed organization (not my greatest skill) and another strange disciple: Waiting. I am finding that you want me praying carefully about each step and waiting for the right inspirational moment rather than just jumping in with creative vigor. This approach is foreign to me, but I'm trusting that you know what you're doing. And that brings up a bold question: What are you doing while I'm waiting?

Yes God; that thought frequently crosses my mind. Please forgive any perception of arrogance―no I’m not privileged to know your bigger thoughts (I must improve my trust in things unseen). But you made me with a curious mind, you ask me to seek. And you fill with righteousness those who hunger and thirst for it.

The LORD said to Moses, "Come up to me on the mountain and wait there, that I may give you the tablets of stone, with the law and the commandment, which I have written for their instruction."

           ―Exodus 24:12

You had a very specific plan of action in store for Moses and the Israelites. Interestingly you didn’t share (yet) with Moses that, while he was with you on the mountain, your people would be committing adultery below. You weren’t inclined to warn him that he would have to perform unspeakable acts, killing those who instigated the treachery. You didn’t reveal the necessity for another trip back up the mountain to receive a second set of instructions. Wouldn’t it have saved us (and you!) a whole lot of trouble if you had just told Moses in the first place that his first climb would be a futile exercise?

I’m discovering that there is a word closely associated with waiting. The word is teaching. I would not ordinarily connect the two, but you give me new sight in my waiting, and there is the beauty of your way. Being on Spiritual-standby does not mean you have nothing for me to do; that I should not be expectant and seeking in my soul.

Is that what you meant for Sabbath Rest to be about―A time to let your Spirit prepare me for tomorrow’s task; rewarding or arduous as it might be; a time to strengthen me and better instruct me in your ways?

I am in awe of your patience, with me, Father, that you would carefully and methodically lay out the lessons I need―those that encourage and those that convict―only as they become necessary. I would be overwhelmed, perhaps even unable to cope if you were not to carefully and lovingly walk me through the challenges of life.

I ask that you continue to remind me that you provide only enough for me, according to your preparation. Help me to be ready for when tomorrow’s bread arrives.

―It is so.

Mark C.

1-21-2019 Vows and Consonants

And Jephthah came to Mizpah unto his house, and, behold, his daughter came out to meet him with timbrels and with dances; and she was his only child; beside her he had neither son nor daughter.

And it came to pass, when he saw her, that he rent his clothes, and said: 'Alas, my daughter! thou hast brought me very low, and thou art become my troubler; for I have opened my mouth unto the LORD, and I cannot go back.' 

                                                                                                                ―Jdg 11:34-35

Yes, Lord, I did spell-check the title of this blog. I’ve been reading scripture and testing an epiphany (for me) with fellow studiers, to make sure I’m not on a wild goose chase. Vows and Consonants are exactly what I now want to seek your wise counsel about. So, to the point…

As I develop my devotional concerning your provision of tomorrow’s bread, a difficult subject has peeked its head out of the frozen ground of my comfort zone. The topic has to do with the language I use to commit myself to a person, project, or cause. It also relates to the ways I can mislead myself and others based on that language. All of this boils down to two words: Vow and Oath.

Jesus, you were the one who inspired me to chase the subject, so I won’t insult you by trying to educate in depth; the difference between the two. But in order for my simple brain to grasp the incredible significance of that difference, I’ve got to summarize. It appears that the origins of both words are indeed Biblical and are tied specifically to covenants and contracts (yes, those concepts again!):

To vow as played out in the ancient texts is to state verbally an intended commitment of common-good agreed to by two or more persons; then to act out that statement in good faith.

An oath, on the other hand, is the pledging/stating by one or more people of an irreversible action, regardless of the consequences and irrespective of individual benefit or penalty to the pledgers.

Is one better than the other, a vow vs. an oath? That depends on who you talk to. If I want my way to be the only way, regardless of its effect on others, an oath is the way to go. But that means I am in essence a slave to the commitment. I am inescapably obligated to carry out my commitment.

You, Lord, had some very strong things to say concerning oaths. According to your instructions in Matthew 5, I’m not to make oaths, but rather let the consistent and upright nature of my actions be my promise of future integrity. A more ancient example of an oath-gone-bad was when Jephthah swore to sacrifice whatever was in his doorway in return for a victory in a battle. Though the word “vow” is used in the record, the context and Jephthah's intent were based on an oath and so, poor Jephthah's daughter became an accidental victim of her father’s reckless commitment.

On the other hand, in accurately “vowing a vow”, I should be in concert with anyone else willing to pursue the common good by the same agreed to approach. Regardless of my success in following through, the covenant vow and its intended outcome remain, and the covenant participants are expected to see the commitment through. In a true vow, regardless of my appropriate or inappropriate actions on behalf of my fellow vower(s), the covenant continues. And for each individual, there is grace when along the way an obligation is fumbled. Since the objective of every participant is the same, others are expected to see the purpose through.

And that brings me to the question, Lord: How can I predict the outcome if I fail in fulfilling my vow? Abram had the same concern―his fear of his responsibility to the covenant-vow with you caused a dark spirit to come over him.

But you initiated something else in your vows; you included the prophetic. You and all you prophets spoke in vow language that not only spelled out the best way for each participant to proceed but also very specifically what would happen if the efforts were not made or were redefined by some rogue partner…like me.

I know what must be done, but have in many instances convinced myself that I can “short-cut” my efforts or possibly change the rules on the sly. Yes, Lord, I actually have tried to fake you out…as you know. Forgive me. In the course of my life and commitment with you, I have mistakenly invoked oaths rather than joined you in vow. And because of the prophetic language of your vow with me, I cannot deny that I know what consequences are in store. They are very clearly spelled out. My only hope is in your mercy and grace; neither of which I deserve.

So another question: In my relationship with you now, have I learned not to promise things I shouldn’t dare promise? Have I learned yet to follow you obediently on a common, greater course?

The answer is the same one you gave to Abram, “I will.” You knew then with him and now with me that Abe and I are flawed beings, incapable of perfect covenant. We need perfect help. So your vows include something else; assurances of your faithfulness to circumvent the failing of our faithfulness. You provide with your vows, an opportunity for Consonant (adj. consistently agreeable) relationship.

I have learned that by your graceful actions; and in willingness on my part to vow by your rules: We can do no wrong together. That statement will probably bother many who read it, but if they were to only study in depth the history of how beautifully life plays out when everyone carries out their vows with you correctly, they too would appreciate a new freedom. Odd, that being obedient to you and trusting the covenants you have laid out actually frees me from my personal prison, constructed through the making and carrying-out of selfish oaths.

Selfish oaths? Who says?

You do. You are the original and exclusive rule-maker and ironically then, the only one with the authority to oath/pledge anything. I see now, Lord, that by their very nature, my personal oaths require me to stand on principles of pride―I am selfishly compelled to see them through even if they work against yours and other’s causes. And that is no longer acceptable to me. I desire now to abandon my oath-making behavior and vow to vow with you. But am I a worthy covenant-vow partner? Not at all: That’s why you acted out another vow; committing to and seeing through your own self-sacrifice. In that moment my oaths became unimportant. Your vow has become our vow; if only I will claim it.

And I do, Lord! Thank you for allowing me to join in your plan and your desire. Thank you, Jesus, for being the first to vow for and with me, with any of us on this struggling planet. Now our vows of love for one another have given the possibility of an eternal life beyond the power of any worldly oath.

It is so,

Mark C.

12-25-2016 Seclusion

O Lord, open my lips, and my mouth will declare your praise. For you will not delight in sacrifice, or I would give it; you will not be pleased with a burnt offering. The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise.     Psalm 51:15-17

Seclusion: I’ve traveled to a location now where life is as quiet in its unfolding as I have ever known it to be. It is a place I have been to before and one that helps refresh my spirit. I know it to be a wonderful, but dangerous place. In the quiet of the empty folds of the world can hide untested thoughts. In the solitude of my own reckoning, there is no guarantee of wise counsel. In the waiting for right answers, there may be impatience and temptation to accept lesser solutions. Too much seclusion? Oh yes, that is always a possibility and a rocky place indeed, for there lies the barren waste of feared abandonment.

Yet, have I ever truly been alone? Has anyone? Is a single tree on the plains not rooted to a forest of nourishment beneath? Does the lone path of invention forbid the idea of your spiritual wind being whispered into my heart?

When scripture says that you knew me before I knew myself, before I could even fathom the concept of completeness and compare it to the unlit places where rebellion against your sovereignty first percolated; You had mastered them both. You are in the tempest and in the flame; in the dance of brook-waters and the shimmer of starlight. Your lessons and your presence may take any form at any time, if only I will watch, and listen for them. So why do I close my eyes and shut my ears to your song?

In this era, each of us it seems, fancy ourselves evangelists of our own invention. I’m in no way different. In my isolation, I secretly hunger for individual recognition, so I make observations about life and declare them loudly, casting them to the wind (or windows, or the internet and social media) in hopes that someone else will agree. If others do not agree, at least I’ve caught some attention and therefore am relevant.

But Lord, is relevance mine to own? Just because I can create buzz, just because I have a thought, does that make my manufactured fact a truth? Maybe, instead of first seeking the approval of others, I should seek yours? Is that the missing bridge between my isolation and a promised land of real fellowship?

Nearly 2500 years ago, a last humble prophet spoke of your good news―your preparation for a great change in the state of the spiritual and physical worlds: Then came a void. It would be 500 silent years before a new voice shook the world. That voice spoke a very old message in a very new way. As with any new approach, it had to be metered out slowly in order to be ingested by a population resistant to change. So you offered small bites for them, for us, for me, to take in: The cry of an infant born into meager circumstances; the eagerness of a young boy to understand and challenge the thinking of the day; the servitude and lessons of a rabbi who walked in purity; the offering of a sacrifice that led to perfect redemption. This patient progression was not the norm then, just as it is not the norm now.

In this age, I’m too eager to stake claim to my opinions prior to understanding their overarching impact. I want to reinvent, fitting the world to the order of my needs rather than admitting perhaps that, as inconvenient and uncomfortable as it may appear, yours is the more encompassing plan.

Jesus―giver of light, hope, and grace―will you teach me more of patient humility and submission? Will you help me distinguish the Truth of your message in comparison to the fleeting philosophies offered by a selfish creation? I want less than to conquer territory for my own purpose and desire; I seek more alertness of and responding to your voice. Help me to better hear the pleas of the neglected ones; those ignored by we who clang our drums and symbols to be heard. I long to be nourished by your living waters―that might even be found in the silent, embarrassed tears of those who are too proud or too hopeless to request relationship. I ask to serve as you would desire, not as I would self-imagine the need.

What a blessed time is this, full of obvious and raucous clamoring, when a light approaching from the horizon of my solitude can still shine into my soul, if I will only turn to deeply consider its herald:

“Prepare the way of the Lord in the wilderness.

Make a level highway in the desert for our God.”

Thank you for this quiet moment that explodes with words of peace and your wish for goodwill and relationship with mankind. May we each discover in the solitude of our individual encounter with you; the beauty of your love. And may our hearts be bowed before you in humble realization, that before we ever considered a thought of service for ourselves, or making an offering of our “better ways” to improve others; you first served us by the design of your creation and in your sacrificial offering of salvation for our proud souls.

Praying for a blessed Christmas of solitude, shalom and preparation for all,

Mark C.

11-22-2018 Thank-Filled

O give thanks to the LORD, for he is good, for his steadfast love endures forever! Let the redeemed of the LORD say so, whom he has redeemed from trouble and gathered in from the lands, from the east and from the west, from the north and from the south.

Some wandered in desert wastes, finding no way to a city to dwell in; hungry and thirsty, their soul fainted within them. Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress. He led them by a straight way till they reached a city to dwell in. Let them thank the LORD for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man! For he satisfies the longing soul, and the hungry soul he fills with good things.

Some sat in darkness and in the shadow of death, prisoners in affliction and in irons, for they had rebelled against the words of God, and spurned the counsel of the Most High. So he bowed their hearts down with hard labor; they fell down, with none to help. Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he delivered them from their distress. He brought them out of darkness and the shadow of death, and burst their bonds apart. Let them thank the LORD for his steadfast love, for his wondrous works to the children of man!

For he shatters the doors of bronze and cuts in two the bars of iron.          ―Psalm 107:1-16

Lord I keep forgetting and so, I thank You for reminding me…wait that’s wrong…thanking You is what this journal entry is all about and I cannot “thank” You―at least by my studies, not appropriately.

As I dig into the language of Your instruction, and the epiphanies of those diggers far more ancient and wiser than myself, I have been taught that the Hebrew script has no word for “thanks”. In fact the word typically used paints a picture of a far more descriptive, yet primitive act: I imagine it as someone so insignificant that they might be considered an insect to be squashed under foot. I imagine being that insect and looking up to see the mighty wonder of the foot and the Being whose foot I behold. He is so great that I cannot possibly take in His power and complexity. I prepare to die for that is my plight.

But instead, the Being reaches out with another appendage, a hand and carefully, gently picks up the insect-me. He beholds in return and speaks. I am astounded that I can understand him. He whispers (as to not destroy His creation with the power of His full voice) a word, “Yada”.

That is all. That is enough. It is a word that can only be perfectly conceived and spoken and acted upon by the Being. In my feeble reckoning and small measure I know it (through a lifetime of spiritual and mental wrestling) to mean a conjoining of many things into one: Truly intimate and passionate relationship, leading to growing familiarity, resulting in a new word: Ahav―Love. There is a Greek word which I have come to realize also describe this greatest quest for relation: Agape.

So the Great Being recognizes the insect in the most profound of ways, offering Yada. The insect at that moment has no idea of the magnitude and resulting blessing of The Gift. All the little-one can do is to offer what the little-one has in return. He picks up a stone (perhaps a pebble to the Being) and tosses it in His direction, acknowledging, out of fear and trembling, with wonder and appreciation that he, or she, has been recognized and…loved beyond understanding.

So, when I read Psalm 107, where David exclaims, “Give thanks to the Lord for he is good and his lovingkindness endures forever,” I was drawn to that word, thanks. I didn’t know what I could properly do to thank Him. I looked up the translation and the Hebrew says Yadah. Wait, Lord, to this insect that word is strangely familiar, but added-to. It is not the word You spoke on our first encounter. There is something, more. That “h” on the end is the same thing You added to Abram’s name to redefine him as Abraham―from father of height to father who worships the Higher One.

Lord God, am I to assume that Abraham and I have something in common? That we both have encountered You…respectfully perhaps, You have made Your presence known to us…and we both have tossed the pebble? And so we Yadah―recognize and honor the one who "Yadas"― Seeks a truly intimate and passionate relationship, leading to growing familiarity―us.

And it is as simple, and overwhelmingly comprehensive, as that. We cannot aptly thank You, but we can acknowledge and praise You, seeking to join You in an ongoing, on-growing relationship.

One astounding aside Lord, I am blown away at discovering the first being in the Biblical record to speak the word Yada. It was the serpent, enticing Eve to yada good and evil! And that is where the true questions begin―Is it possible that there is an Almighty Being to whom I can throw the pebble? And then Is there an antithesis, a being not almighty, but diabolical enough to entice my attention another direction? Even in the asking, there is a question―Do I have a choice in Yadah-ing One or the other? And there is one answer to it all―Of course I have a choice! True Ahav-Agape will allow nothing less.

Lord God, Maker of heaven and earth, I praise You with my pebble and appreciate as best I can that You first offered Yourself as a sacrifice-resurrected, in order that when sometimes my attention is distracted by the “other” choice, I can be forgiven.

And though I cannot properly thank You for all of this, I can be thank-filled for all You provide. My life, my family, friends, yes even turkey and all the trimmings, but most of all for Your offer of redemption and Your eternal desire for our Yada together.

Yadah to You, my God and Happy Thank-filled-Giving to you other journeyers out there.

Mark C.

10-29-2018 Getting It Right

 "You have heard that it was said, 'You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.' But I say to you, Love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven. For he makes his sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust.

For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?

You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”  

                                                                                          ―Matthew 5:43-48

I’ve held back on writing this entry, because I wasn’t sensing the right context, until now, Lord.

The subject matter? Anti-Semitism. There as so many examples to pull from, but I’m choosing one from my latest trip to the Land, and specifically during that adventure; a visit to some newly met friends in the Hebron area. I’m going to keep names and the exact location vague for what should become obvious reasons, and I ask your wise-counsel, Master, to guide me.

The couple in question were introduced to me as Jewish believers who had opened their hearts to you, Jesus, as their Savior and King. The modern term that is commonly used to describe such people is Messianic. I’m not sure that quite encapsulates the complexities of these folks, so I’ll try to help delineate by summarizing the no-man’s land such believers dwell in. First, they are frowned upon―in some cases, shunned―by the Jewish community itself and even family; being viewed as abandoners of their “original” faith. Secondly, they are viewed with odd suspicion by some contemporary Christians who have not properly studied, nor understand the distinction this group represents Biblically (Yes, Lord, I have heard you – these are a portion of the “Remnant” coming to age). Thirdly, they are doubly condemned by radicalized sects within the Muslim faith and to some nationalistic-socialist factions for what is perceived as a bastardization of God’s edicts.

I confess Lord, the courage of my friends, along with others like them, and their commitment to their faith amazes me. But I have also been concerned in the recent past that in some cases, this clannish sector of believers purposely set themselves apart from those (like me) who desire genuine spiritual fellowship. Messianics, as I have experienced them, can be prone to expect we Non-Jews to embrace and live out the more fundamental constructs of the rabbinical faith. Consequently, it is the same issue that James, Paul, Peter and the Jerusalem Council had to work through as referenced in the book of Acts, chapter 15. Ironically in contrast, modern society also expects Jews and Messianics to be somehow invisible in their practices. And when they do become noticed; they are punished as evidenced by countless persecutions.

Lord, all of this is not to protest our differences, but to celebrate how one Messianic couple is standing against segregational, anti…any-group’s kind of thinking. They are doing it by the most simple of methods, plying their simple gift of hospitality. These two invited our traveling group into their home, located very close to the town of Hebron in the southern Negev. Right away I knew this would be a remarkable encounter because their home is near to a Palestinian border area wherein factions of the Palestinian Liberation Organization and other anti-Jewish groups encourage such things as mortar attacks and fire-kites being flown into and released to burn the Land. Even the tombs of the Patriarchs, including the resting places of Abraham and Sarah are cordoned off and claimed as exclusive sites for West Bank inhabitants, while access for Jews is forbidden. Such are the conditions near the homestead of (whom I will call) Isaac and Rebecca. You, Lord, know and bless their true identities.

Isaac and Rebecca hold a weekly Shabbat gathering that is well attended, but in our case, they made special accommodations for us in the middle of the week. I had never been to this area of Israel and was not sure what we would encounter. We were there on the very week when a number of incendiaries had been launched and caused fires in the area. But the neighborhood we drove to spoke of peace and tranquility. Even more so, the home of I and R. They greeted us with embraces, food and, particularly Rebecca welcomed us as if we were familiar family members who had come for one of many visits. I felt, walking into this first encounter as if I had known her and Isaac for many long years.

We ate, we sang, Isaac shared a deep-rooted teaching; I have to admit, though I remember it all being poignant, it was not any one word or a moment that captured my interest. It was the sharing heart of this Messianic couple―non-judgmental even to the Muslims that would condemn them; inviting souls, sincerely sharing love with others―that melted any misgivings I might have held walking into this place.

Don’t get me wrong, Lord, I’ve experienced warm hospitality before, but this…was something more, something you enhanced. I would call it universal, but I’m not sure that even covers it. After all, you chose one family, Israel not just to dwell with you, but to share; to testify. You did not intend a conquering, racial extermination or genocide of the other families, but an invitation to a communion of the SAME. Rebecca and Isaac were to me an example of the spiritual salve you desire to be spread throughout the world―overcoming differences with kindness, humility and sincere compassion for the wellbeing of others…for me.

And in this time of terror tactics, where hatred is shouted as a banner of pride, the whisper of true love offered within the peaceful garden known as Rebecca and Isaac’s home shocks me into the realm of spiritual hope―a place where no bullet or weapon or word can kill what you have breathed life into.

I desperately needed to be in that place at that time, Lord. You wanted me to be in that place; drawing nearer to the Kingdom, knowing that battles rage around us, worldwide. Yet by the hospitality of our new found friends, and by your grace, I am healed of my fear and strengthened in my courage so that now I can stare the enemy square in the face and say with sincere hospitality, “My God reigns―his love can save even you, because it has saved me; it has saved Isaac and Rebecca. Don’t fight us, join us.”

Amen

Mark C.

Read more on the subject of seeking honest relationship with others in Mark’s new book, Marginalized, found at www.RUTmanagement.com.

10-3-2018 Intertwined

“For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same?

            You therefore must be perfect, as your heavenly Father is perfect.”  ―Matthew 5:46-48 

Well Lord, that was quite an experience―visiting my son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter in Seoul. You always find such extraordinary ways to help me step outside of my comfort zone. I am adequately reminded of what it feels like to be the alien-visitor, rather than to receive the alien-visitor. I was most certainly the stranger in a strange and wonderful land.

And, as with visiting your land, Israel, I discovered new perspectives; such as how 23 million people can peacefully cohabitate a city within a land area less than that of New York City. I watched as people drove, shopped, lived and interacted without much incident at all. Yes, there were the two near misses of vehicles trying to wedge their way ahead of my son’s car, and there were the tolerances for people waiting for and riding in the mass transit system; but I was not in control of those things and I suspect most of the horde around me would admit the same.

I was amazed at how people would shop for food, place it in a cart, and then leave their stash outside the market to go shopping elsewhere without concern that their purchase might disappear before their return. It just doesn’t happen in Seoul. I found myself rising early in the morning, prior to the sun rising and climbing to a nearby park, feeling completely at ease without regard to my safety. Apparently, there are other early risers who feel the same, for I crossed paths with a good number of joggers, exercisers, meditators, and millers-about who appeared to feel equally relaxed.

There was a politeness to the order as well. I was most certainly not a native, but people nodded and sometimes even engaged me in a combination of Kor-English and sign-language to offer greetings and inquire as to where I was from. Curiosity is universal.

Speaking of that, Lord, I have become curious as to how the order of this place came about. I understand that, for a civilization to survive in such tight quarters, certain physical freedoms must be sacrificed―no plastic in the paper trash container, no food waste unwrapped, etc. But surely there are times of chaos and rebellion that have arisen, and still must. I’m told of them, and that such events can get as ugly in the Republic of Korea as anywhere else on the planet. Does a mass such as this react differently when things go array?

I live in a place where many assumptions about order occur. I am occasionally known to exceed the speed limit on the road. We don’t have to recycle our trash if we choose not to. I have great freedom to cross borders and to object to; even argue against my community’s ordinances. If I am offended, I may assume that right and take a different stand, as I also afford that right to my neighbors.  If things get overly contentious; compromise is the typical starting point toward reconciliation.

But in a place where there are so many people, if a disagreement surfaces, what happens to the order? Lord, I mentioned the politeness of the culture and I noticed something regarding Asian culture that may answer to the question of disagreement. I wonder if the people of Korea really “know” one another.  Maybe I should take the question further…do people anywhere really “know” one another?

Sure, we recognize and predict future outcomes based on historical behavior, actions, common heritage, and family traits. We shape our relationships from these things. But what I’m talking about is more―the “deep-soul” understanding between and among us. Some might even call it a spiritual understanding; one to another, that comes from constant intercession, one to another; and persistent dialogue pursuing the higher, the more difficult, and the more uncomfortable questions of life.

How do I measure up in this questioning, Lord? Within my family structure, within my circle of friends, with you, do I strive to truly “know”, or do I just superficially associate with others in order to peaceably coexist? Korea taught me as much about my own subtle tendencies as it did about Eastern world nuances. I have to confess that I’m a “work-in-progress”, lazy in my pursuit of understanding the individuals I interact with on a regular and infrequent basis.

Is this why we are so prone to dismiss, minimize or even ridicule others around us whom we claim are different from ourselves? Where is the order in my concern for the dignity of my fellow humans? I have relegated them to pawns for my convenience and my selfish purposes, rather than testing my beliefs by better understanding theirs. Dare I ask if the same stereotypical bullets are shot my way by others, hoping to wound or eliminate my contributions rather than laying down their attack weapons, taking true interest in my history and values?

Lord, you know best of all―each of us. You took individual interest in each of our lives, sacrificing your own, becoming the exclusive example of one desiring deep communion with us, regardless of our personal depravity. Regardless of my reluctance to better know my fellows and their reluctance to know me; shouldn’t we, by your example, be fighting with every fiber to intertwine our lives, bonding for strength, not cutting ourselves apart?

Words: all of this is rhetoric until we stop excusing our behavior based on the premise that, as with the Koreans, there are just too many of us to manage such an approach to relationship. But, Jesus, am I wrong to suggest that it only takes one, reaching out to another one, to begin such a movement?

Shalom,

Mark C.