An Unlikely Moment of Worship

“The earth is the LORD’s, and everything in it.”—Psalm 24:1

Every month is special in God’s eyes. Some may seem better to us than others, and in New England, August is right up there.

• It’s a month of heaven all around—warm evenings with nature’s symphony playing in the background.
• It’s a fruitful month, when the harvest and berries and apples begin to appear in abundance.
• It’s a time to remember that just as with the start of another year of school, there can be goodness in routine and sticking with it.
• It’s a month of hot and humid days followed by crisp days and cool nights that remind us that we live in the now and not yet of Eternity, and to look forward each day to both.
• A month, like every month, to celebrate life—but especially one in which both children were born and when beloved parents married. 

To everything there is a season, and this one, this treasure called August, is especially sweet. And with early morning coffee in the Adirondack out back, it’s a realization that it is also something more:

A reminder, in the stillness without a breath of wind, with hints of yellow showing up here and there, of how much I love the majesty of the trees in my back yard and the endless beauty of living here in New England. That no matter where any of us live, God has ordained that we have been born for such a time and led to such a place as ours, and it is good, and none of it should be taken for granted... 

This is not meant to be political at all, but while staring up into the heights of the forest and being grateful for August and praising Him who made it all, it was a reminder that while I am neither what some would call a "tree hugger" nor an extreme climate change guy, the older I get, the more I am aware of the importance of being a practical, good steward of God's good earth… 

“Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for Him…” —Romans 12:1, Message

…Everyday, ordinary things like walking more instead of driving everywhere, picking up trash along the road, eating more organics, even using plant-based cleaning products instead of pouring who knows what down the drain. And whenever possible, purchasing items in more easily recyclable glass or aluminum rather than plastic—especially the kind that many recycling centers will no longer accept.

But what difference does any of that make, and what does that have to do with worship, anyway? Perhaps just the reminder that my backyard, and August, and the endless beauty around me is God's, on loan and to be thoroughly enjoyed, and that every little thing anyone does to steward all of that matters. To Him.

And that’s worship that sings from the inside out.

“It is God's world still. It has been given to man not absolutely, but in trust, that man may work out in it the will of God; given, may we not say, just as a father gives a child a corner of his great garden, and says, ‘There, that is yours; now cultivate it.’”—Philipps Brooks

Beating the Worst Temptation of All

"He makes me whole again,
    steering me off worn, hard paths
    to roads where truth and righteousness echo His name." (Psalm 23:3, Voice)

A dear lady friend and outstanding musician in my town, whose religious choice was not rooted in the good news of the Gospel, once told me that during the Christmas season, she doesn't ignore it but instead "celebrates the myths." And I have to confess that instead of being shocked or offended when she said that, I laughed with her. It sounded so strange, it was hilarious.

A shading of truth can make you laugh, too, in a different way: For years, I'd read books and articles, and heard messages from well-meaning teacher-believers who claim that if you're truly a Christ-one, temptation is avoidable. That there's absolutely no need to keep on celebrating the myth that temptation is part of life.  That somehow, somewhere, there's this humongous secret super-spiritual button you can push to avoid the "T" word. 

And the more you read and hear stuff like that, you can begin to think there's something wrong with you. Because, try as you might, an endless list of magnets seem to be trying to draw you off-course every single minute. The triggers can be any number of things, but when fatigue and stress and what Oswald Chambers describes as "mental wool-gathering" all team up, there is no myth in coming face-to-face with the worst temptation of them all:

"I quit."

Not really, but they're the two words that most easily flow off your lips when summing up the ravages of weariness from hour after hour or day after day of, well, whatever. The two words the enemy of your soul delights in most.

Which may be one reason why Jesus included "lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil" in His model prayer for daily life. I find myself praying this, holding on to this, after I've fallen into some God-forsaken hole of varying depth and shape. Which is fine, but better to know that it is a prayer that meant to be fuel for joyful perseverance ...

...One late evening, the triggers toward "I quit" had mounted during the long day as I pulled into the driveway. It was such a beautiful night, with the sunlight lingering long and sweet on the horizon, and yet the idea of doing or thinking one more thing made the temptation of curling up under the covers and trying to make it all go away by morning sound very appealing.

Until I looked in the refrigerator and realized I was out of a daily essential: "What? No orange juice?!" With the weight of "I quit, what-ever" temptation lingering, countered by the inner groan of "Lord, help!!," I headed to the store to fulfill my mission.

Until I drove down into the village, and noticed that the sunlight that was lingering long and sweet on the horizon was casting a gorgeous golden glow on the cupola of the Town House. The next think I knew, I had camera in hand and was walking through the village, looking up and taking in the light show, and trying to find just the right angle to capture that glow on the cupola.

Along the way, a gentleman watering the garden of an historic building that few get to enter during most of the year saw my photo pursuit and asked "Want to look inside?" What ensued was a 15-minute private history lesson about an aspect of my hometown I'd never known. And if I thought I was feeling weary, what these folks went through to make a go of it back in the day blew that up quickly.

Coincidental appointment? I think not. And instead of "I quit," gratitude began to seep back in and swallow up the temptation to not really care about really anything but me-my-myselfness. 

On golden nights like that, my car has a way of finding its way to a favorite scenic vista high above town. As many times as I've paused or driven by, this night seemed unlike the rest for its beauty. Peaceful goldenness for miles around (photo at top). Gratitude had completed its course, and the temptation was overwhelmed.

I never did make it to the store for more OJ.

It's good to know that while temptation is definitely not a myth, God always hears our feeble groans of help and reaching out so that we won't fall into its trap...if only we will listen, look (even in the refrigerator), and follow:
"Not that way, but this way,
Out of the way,
Run away,
I'll show the way." 

In the words of John Piper:

"Today, I will stand before innumerable temptations. That's what life is: endless choices between belief and unbelief, obedience and disobedience. But O Mighty God, forbid that I would yield. Hold me back from stepping inside the temptation." 

It often begins by beholding the glory all around you, and letting gratitude win the day.

[Adapted from 6/25/17]

The Music of Our Lives

“Jesus' claims are particularly unnerving, because if they are true there is no alternative but to bow the knee to Him.”—Timothy Keller

The more you read the Gospels, the more you realize all over again that no one has ever been more amazingly good, loving, compassionate and wise than Jesus.

And the more you read the Gospels, the more you also realize all over again that Jesus’ words for living and for following Him are Holy radical, uncompromising, costly, and sometimes uncomfortable, yet powerful and magnetic, and full of Life like none other.

Once, while in the midst of speaking such Holy radical words, a woman in the crowd randomly shouts, “Blessed is the mother who gave you birth and nursed you.” That’s weird. Except that woman is all of us at one time or another, maybe even this week—quick to admire Jesus from a safe distance, nod and smile at His Holy radical words for living, and to “Like” and “Amen!” all that friends say about Him.

That’s why Sunday mornings can be so recalibratingly good. A time to get off the sidelines of admiration and back in the game of following closely, one step of faith at a time, fueled by the encouragement of others who are on the same journey. A time to rekindle a Relationship, one that is much better and far more satisfying than following mere rules and routine. To draw near once more and hear Jesus’ response to that woman’s random shout echoing down through the ages: “…how blessed instead are those who hear God’s voice and make God’s message their way of life.”

And so, to worship beyond words on a screen and notes in our ears so that our hearts can pray once again before heading out into another week:

“Lord, play Your tunes through us. Breathe Your breath through us. Fashion us, change us, and let the music of our lives bring hope and joy and healing. Don’t let us be distracted by the beautiful earthly sounds all around us; help us enjoy them and see them as pointers to Heaven. Help us not to devote our lives to things that will end when we die. Let the words of our mouths, the meditations of our hearts, and the works of our hands be pleasing to You, that we will be able to say when we reach the top of the mountain, ‘I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith.’” 

—Andy Park, “The Worship Journey”