The other alternative 

The sermon was lovely–feeding of the five (to 20 plus) thousand.

Five loaves and two fish expanding out to a feast for thousands.

Is it difficult to miss the metaphors?  The abundance of God?  Jesus providing through his own personality to satisfy all those souls by the sea.

But what if the boy had said no?

What if he had not shared? 

Jesus never needed us to contribute.  He tells us that if we don’t praise Him, the rocks will cry out.

He doesn’t need our help.

But if we keep our lunch to ourselves?  We miss our portion in the miracle.

We need Him to make us characters in His story, not the other way around.

Good reminder when I am hungry and not sure it is a good idea to share my lunch.

When Jesus gives, He pours it all out for us.  

Down to the last drop.

Good Will Tenting

when I was wee-small I corrected the store name Goodwill to Oldwill.  Also I once inadvertently hurt the feelings of a much-beloved pre-school teacher when I applied an age-equals-wisdom rubric to her chronological age.

She seemed exceedingly wise and kind and calm.  So I told her she was 85.  At the time this was the Nobel Peace prize of ages to me.  I did not see wrinkles or old as a factor with humans.

Resale stores, absolutely, but people–not so much. My teacher was probably in her late twenties to mid-thirties?

I am going somewhere with this: assessment.

When I scan my junk mail for the misplaced real mail, I find message after message from hardworking Davises and Millers trying to give me some relief from student loans and a variety of entities using female given names and announcing their desire to date me or worse.

Oh, the anomalous anonymity of the Internet! These hardworking phishers and scammers just don’t get me.

We all want to be truly known and loved for who we really are, yet this is mostly a mirage.  At least in my culture.

We are often not capable of deep commitment or unswerving faithfulness, and we are quite damaged by the sturm and drang of this flawed and broken world. We like empty images and cliches, not the challenges of maturity, restoration, and love.

Which leads me to Big Agnes tents…

After one disastrous night in a tent at the beach during a storm, I do not consider myself a camping girl, but when I saw the (again, junk email!) ad for Big Agnes tents it was love at first sight.  Big? When seeking shelter, big is good. And Agnes?  Agnes rocks.  The name means pure but sounds a lot like the Latin word for lamb–agnus.  Big Pure?  Big Lamb? Lamb of God?

Lamb of God 

Who takes away the sins of the world 

Have mercy on us...

…damaged goods

Damaged goods in a storm 

In need of shelter

I will run to the Lamb, find shelter in Him.

Forever

“I will never leave you nor forsake you”

Over the course of my life I have been booted out of a variety of clubs..oh…I mean communities of faith.   Always for taking a stand on some issue, always with the subsequent silence and loss.

Financial accountability. Child safety.  Confronting greed, lust or both–there are all kinds of ways to trudge down the “narrow road” in christianity.

Which is sometimes confusing and disorienting but never totally forsaken.

Jesus is there, saying what he says to all of us–I will never leave you nor forsake you.”

We will never get that kind of promise from anyone else.  We humans are nothing if not forsakers. We bolt at a pin drop.

Not him.  Jesus stays with us.

And always he says the same thing. “You are in good company, darling…always.”

Saul Alinsky, kerfluffles for old radicals

I just read a poorly-written article from the Washington Post desperately attempting to disentangle Hillary Clinton from Saul Alinsky and Lucifer.

While I personally doubt she will ever be able to divorce herself from Satan, there seems to be little reason for Mrs. Clinton to distance herself from Alinsky.  He was a bit of a badass, sloppy theology notwithstanding.

Jesus (the original anti-Lucifer) told a parable about two brothers who had opposite responses to their father’s request that they both go work in the fields.

One said sure then did nothing; the other said naw then went to work.

Mr. Alinsky seemed to have been the second guy.  He went to the poorest, least powerful communities in this country during a time when the people in those communities were genuinely oppressed and disenfranchised and gave them power and a voice.

When asked why he focused on African American “ghettos” he spoke of pervasive  oppression of African Americans through lynchings, the Klan, and systematic disenfranchisement. 

He chose to go to the people who had the least reason to refuse any offer of hope.

Saul Alinsky was a do-gooder.  He refused labels, especially political labels.

He was wrong about metaphysical hell–there are few have-nots there.  But right about the hells on earth that men engender through systemic avarice and racism.

I don’t know Alinsky well.  In fact after Carson and the bedraggled WP article I plan on getting to know him better.

But I leave you with a fact and a suggestion–

Alinsky once suggested a fart-in at a concert to combat social injustice.

And I bet you a pork-pie hat that Alinsky’s version of the Fox TV show Lucifer would actually be worth watching.

Quest

gone too long

A litany of good-byes 

Signifying everything 

We want from Light

The shapes of letters resemble

Hands raised in supplication

Bottomless things

Somewhere in between I find you

In the story you beg me not to tell

Even though you are the hero of it

The boy who quietly 

Saves the headstrong girl

From so many foolish choices

Cleaning house

the lovely stranger

Tells us all

If this thing in front of you 

Doesn’t give you joy throw it

Away

I kinda wonder about the ordinary scrub brushes thrust into the most terrible places

Do you discard them too?

Replace them with newer ones without the dark history?

Maybe keep them away from the crap

Which tangentially reminds me of

Poor Thomas Crapper–

Bringing us into modern hygiene at the expense of the family name

Don’t worry, Thomas

Your job may be thankless

Your name synonymous with 

Well, crap

But I won’t forget you

Joy may be a too-strong word

For preventing public health catastrophe

But somebody gotta do it, TC

Somebody for all the rest