Still working on basic cable skills on the water–which means some face planting. This requires humility and a sense of humor.
The latter is especially important for the cable operators who help me. They are patient and kind and one quoted Nietzsche to me–you know the quote about death and endurance.
So I am climbing back up onto the dock and all I can see is Freddy N. wake-boarding, mustache to the wind.
Yeah, would have done him good.
Whoa! There are a lot of saints in February
How many do you recognize? I looked them up not because of Valentine’s Day. An experienced gardener once told me to prune my roses on a feast day in February. I think the 17th…
Sea’s birthday is the 16th. Time marked by anniversaries. Winter haunts.
Jesus rebukes the hypocrites for useless traditions–
Mark 7:9-10 (NIV)
And he said to them: “You have a fine way of setting aside the commands of God in order to observe your own traditions! [10] For Moses said, `Honor your father and your mother,’ and, `Anyone who curses his father or mother must be put to death.’
My erstwhile adoptees were cursers. I would point this admonition out to them. I understand that they never “got” the umbilical bond of love. I even “got” why. They were lost from the beginning. They needed to feel love and when it wasn’t there the whole world went dark for them.
The cost of light is consuming.
But I believe in a Rescuing God.. He’ll get them. Because He loves them. Because He paid. Because He sees their faces from when they were babies lost in the world.
His beautiful lullabies.
Mark 7:5-7 (NIV)
So the Pharisees and teachers of the law asked Jesus, “Why don’t your disciples live according to the tradition of the elders instead of eating their food with `unclean’ hands?” [6] He replied, “Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you hypocrites; as it is written: ” `These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. [7] They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men.’
Today is the anniversary of the day that a Roman Christian named Valentinus was tortured and murdered for trying to convert the emperor.
Doesn’t really match overpriced bonbons.
The business of following Jesus is deadly. Isaiah himself was believed to be martyred by Manasseh.
But we all know a talisman of love is cheaper than real love.
God is about real love. His love letters to us are everywhere and He wants our hearts.
Most of us would prefer the hand-washed appearance of solidarity than the cost of true love.
But if we choose the narrow road and follow after True Love, the results are eternal, unmistakable and dear.
Years ago I lived in a beautiful old house. It had three stories and a creepy-ish basement, some mice, and a lovely wilderness of a backyard. It was the house I lived in on my wedding day.
I managed it for a friend. Some of my roommates were amazing. Some were annoying, and a couple were nuts. The crazy ones were no fun for anyone. They were paranoid and antisocial and they ended up in the house because I was a softy.
I am a little tougher now.
But mostly I think about Jesus. He tells these elegant, terrifying stories of rampant, evil tenants trashing vineyards and killing messengers.
We humans are stubborn like that. We like to ignore the Landlord.
Jesus is reminding us we live in a borrowed house. We don’t love it like the Owner.
But one day we will or…be shocked to find that this borrowed house was not just shelter.
It was our home
Mark 7:3-8 (NIV)
(The Pharisees and all the Jews do not eat unless they give their hands a ceremonial washing, holding to the tradition of the elders. [4] When they come from the marketplace they do not eat unless they wash. And they observe many other traditions, such as the washing of cups, pitchers and kettles. ) [5] So the Pharisees and teachers of the law asked Jesus, “Why don’t your disciples live according to the tradition of the elders instead of eating their food with `unclean’ hands?” [6] He replied, “Isaiah was right when he prophesied about you hypocrites; as it is written: ” `These people honor me with their lips, but their hearts are far from me. [7] They worship me in vain; their teachings are but rules taught by men.’ [8] You have let go of the commands of God and are holding on to the traditions of men.”
When my children were still very young they knew two big words-psychological and hypocrite. The first was introduced by my adopted daughter’s precipitous mental slide.
The second was my adopted son’s favorite go-to epithet for any of us who opposed him.
I always thought his use of the word ironic. Now I think–more tragic and disfiguring. He was consumed by appearing one way and hiding who he was in secret.
The Pharisees and teachers of the law saw themselves as the good guys.. They were the power players. But they were so consumed by the appearance, the trappings of clean, they abandoned the pursuit of holy.
Holy should freak us all out. Holy is scary.
Until holy becomes a man and that man quotes Isaiah and then that man lives out holy all the way to a Cross. Perhaps then it should scare us more.
Lent is about the unclean hands and heart–lifted in honor of a sacrifice so unbearable that only it, only He can make us clean.
Making hypocrites into honest men? Same thing as resurrection.
Imagine–dead to life again. All things made new.
What only God can do.
The first day was awful. Awful because it meant I failed my kids. Awful because we weren’t safe. Awful because I believed a lie about someone I loved. And the truth about him was awful.
The first day you find out your child has been sexually abused is also a very important day for good things–
The first day I knew my adopted son abused my child was the last day of her abuse. She has been safer because she told.
The first day is important because when you tell you save others from abuse. All kids deserve safety.
The first day you just aim to survive. And love your kid, because she needs to know how precious she is.
I asked my kids today what they would tell a kid on the first day. They said:
it is not your fault
It is good you told
This happens to a lot of kids
You are brave
And this won’t ruin your whole life, it won’t be your whole life.
The last one means a lot to me. It means we are surviving. We are living through this together.
And if we can, so can you
When I was a little girl we lived in Europe. We went to see the statue Winged Victory, which was impressive.
My mother said it was priceless.
Later along the streets there were vendors selling small plastic replicas. I asked her if these were also priceless?
At the time priceless suggested worthless to me and she explained the difference using the statues–the big one was real and unique–irreplaceable and therefore a price could not be placed on it. The street replicas were ubiquitous and cheap–worthless.
Sometimes I get impatient with my loss of freedom. I want time to run or swim, wake or clean. Modest goals often derailed by the needs of my young children….
Who are busy this week making valentines for me.
Each a reminder they are priceless.
Mark 7:1-2 (NIV)
The Pharisees and some of the teachers of the law who had come from Jerusalem gathered around Jesus and [2] saw some of his disciples eating food with hands that were “unclean,” that is, unwashed.
Hand washing is good. Heck, it is downright healthy. What were the disciples thinking? Philistines.
The mosaic laws involving ritual cleansing were given to ensure public health. God never gave any lengthy biology lectures, He just wrote public health into the spiritual rules. Efficient.
But the Israelites obsessed about the “easy” rules and often ignored the hard ones–pride, lust, violence are hard to confront, but hey! A good twenty minute hand washing ritual makes a dude feel clean.
And Jesus’ disciples were getting freedom from the ritual laws as well as access to the best source for how to love and avoid sin–Jesus.
Jesus knows our hearts and he knows how to clean them. Often the most dangerous people are those who agitate for the picky little ceremonies and utterly ignore their own maggot-infested hearts.
My child is tired. It is past his bedtime and nothing will make him happy except quiet and nourishment. We are at a dinner party so he has to navigate the long hardwood road from the play room to his car seat.
Not happy.
I am a veteran mom by now so I know my job is just to get him from point A to 3-point car seat without him hurting himself.
I pick him up, support his head and watch out for sharp corners. The car seat is a tussle, but again I stay calm and focus on his safety.
I know he is tired and stressed. He will feel better. His bad mood doesn’t inspire anger or annoyance–it is just bedtime.
But this series of events haunts me because every day in America parents of young children get angry and hurt their little ones.
I want it to stop. It hurts.
The best I can do is repeat good rules:
Remember that little people have little control over their lives.
Love them.
And when their fatigue, hunger, fear, or discomfort makes them fussy, keep up the love.
Keep them safe.
Don’t hurt them.
Get them rest.
Get you rest.
Tomorrow their sunny little smiles will light up your world.
So keep them safe. They are irreplaceable.
There is something I want to put in this box
A new year
An old debt
Things tangled like a net
Dresses I should sew
Miles I should run
When this sadness is the warm blanket
Remind me why
There are no pictures in this house
Nothing so permanent as you.
Always you.
Carrying Light 