Spiritual Block: Reading Through the Gospels

I'm posting the last exercise in the spiritual block here of reading through the Gospels each month.  It's been a few weeks and I'm working my way through.  'Jesus and the Fig Trees' was a writing that came from reading through the Gospel books.  God's Word is living and active.  I encourage you to still follow through with this exercise, but I will be posting a new Spiritual Block for those interested.

SPIRIT BLOCK

Sometimes we have struggles keeping in step with the Spirit. I seem to be going through the motions sometimes going to church, praying for dinner, saying, "God Bless you," when someone sneezes. You could list a few going-through-the-motions activities yourself--I could list many more here, but the purpose of this block is to offer exercises in getting back in touch with the Holy Spirit--to find life in Christ and Kingdom living here on earth now!

One thing practiced by a pillar of the faith, though I've forgotten who, is reading the four Gospels (Matthew, Mark, Luke & John) each week. While this may seem daunting to you with so many appointments and packed schedules, perhaps taking each book for a week to have them read each month is more attainable. Whatever you are able, His word is living and active! Let it live through you as you read through the Good News each week or month while still keeping in study with other scripture.

Beautiful Things

I wrote this prayer several weeks ago, but worship tonight encouraged me to share.  I'm working on a book, which is referenced at the end of the prayer:

  
I sit here sober, somber, coherent, yet unclear.
Lord, clear my head.  I feel led to write.  Writing is me, yet to write about me would be to write pure.  What is pure writing?  Is it this meandering dribble across the page?
     Writing my heart is most difficult as my heart is torn.  How do I write torn words?
     My p   en     i  s     shr      edd     ed    t     o      pie    ces!  Th   e    dif  ficu     lty      in  rea   din     g    to rn    w     ords    does    n't      com     pare    to      wr    it     ing    t  hem!
     My ink should pull everything together and take the reader on a ride.  Be active!  Be active!  Awaken!  Be Alive!

     My pen breathes heavy, jotting my thoughts in shortness of breath.  The heart of the words longs for 26 miles while the brain struggles with 385 yards.
     Is this my ministry, God?  To write and dream, inviting others into my head.  My head was something I avoided unless aided by whiskey or hooch.  Now, in my sober years, I journey through, intimidated by the corners, the nooks, the cobwebs and the dust.

     Lord, why?  What?  You do such beautiful things with dust--the sunset, movement of water across the world, angels dancing upon a Sunday morning sunbeam through the front window, gardens and forests, Adam and Eve.
     What is in my dust?  What lie-giving rain do I carry?  What sandals are imbedded in my soul?  Am I a sunrise?  Am I dancing in your light?  Am I simply a mud pie hoping to be a cake?
     Lord, God, be with me, please, as I kick up my dirt, hoping to feel!  I grope for you, for the Spirit within to lead my steps.  Guide my prayers, guide my thoughts, hold me tight.
     Jesus, I love you no matter what.  I want to bring glory to Your name!
     Calm my anxious heart and restless hand.  God, please give me rest and time to recover from the strife of the day--of any day that I fail to work on Frank as I should.
     God, I love You, Good night!

Two of my children with the backdrop of God's beautiful work with dust in the sunset on a farm.

Drummin'

My stomach growls
My body yearns

for substance

I wave my wand
And pound the march
the cadence

And it fades to
Chaotic dreams

My heads pound
the inner scream

Jesus and Fig Trees

I was reading Luke and a parable I've read over before, but never really sank in.   Yesterday, it just kind of hit me as my brain tied it to another scripture from Mark.  Let me preface this with "I may not have any idea what I'm talking about."  Still, sometimes stepping out and laying it out for others to read is a good way to process the idea and to think through the initial light bulb.

The parable I read yesterday is in Luke 13:6-9.
"A man had a fig tree which had been planted in his vineyard; and he came looking for fruit on it and did not find any.
"And he said to the vineyard-keeper, 'Behold, for three years I have come looking for fruit on this fig tree without finding any.  Cut it down!  Why does it even use up the ground?'
"And he answered and said to him, 'Let it alone, sir, for this year too, until I dig around it and put in fertilizer; and if it bears fruit next year, fine; but if not, cut it down.'"

The first thing that struck me was that this hit me out of the blue.  I've read through Luke before a few times...seems like I would have remembered this one, but I didn't!  Wow!  Then I thought about the story, and whether I'm completely on target or not, I pictured Jesus talking with God and one or the other said, "Look at those poor excuses for creation just using up that beautiful earth we made, and they're not even producing any fruit!  Let me just wipe them out and let's try with another planting!"

To me, this inserted conversation reminds me of the flood, and sparing Noah to re-seed the human existence.  But even with new trees, the Jewish nation was not producing the fruit God desired.  I like to refer to the Jews of that time and Israel to ignore the fact that my branches could go for some better fruit production too.  Are any of you similar to me in that?

Along with this image of a conversation with the Trinity, in which I left out the Holy Spirit--my fig production is really lacking--thankfully, the Holy Spirit didn't leave me out!  He led me to the recent parable I read in Mark that I've always found interesting and somewhat perplexing.

To sum up Mark 11:13-14 and 20-24, Jesus found a fig tree without any figs, cursed it for not having any fruit, even though it wasn't in season, and then Peter noticed the next morning the tree all withered from the roots up.

Now of itself, this is a perplexing verse.  Jesus does not seem to be very green, right?  But something clicked in my head making the connection between the two Gospels.  Was Jesus giving the disciples a vivid reality shot of what was about to happen?  When he withered the fig tree, he had just finished with the triumphal entry into Jerusalem, the tongue-lashing of the moneychangers and chief priests in the temple and was preparing for the crucifixion and resurrection to come later that weekend.

He told the disciples of the parable of the fig tree getting a little reprieve until after some fertilizer and another year to produce fruit.  Could He have been indicating with this unfortunate fig tree that He was done fertilizing.  His death was to come and with His coming resurrection, we're done with figs.

Perhaps our lives have been fertilized by the Spirit to produce His fruit.  When in our final "year" to produce the fruit of the Spirit.  If we dig deep with our roots to drink in the Spirit and allow Him to permeate our branches, we will produce fruit...love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control.  Don't reach with your branches as if it's by your own power to earn life; rather, reach with your roots, your heart for Him to live in and through you!  Don't allow your roots to wither...But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ!  To Him be glory, both now and forever!  Amen.

Eugene

Sometimes going back a couple of decades to review your old writing is a fun exercise...this is from 1994:


     One day, I drove by work and saw Eugene walking along the sidewalk.  I waved to him, and he waved back.
     Eugene is a bizarre employee of a Mexican restaurant in which I also work.  He immigrated from the former Soviet Union.  The exact parts are unknown because communication with Eugene is very limited.
     He speaks rather fluently the English language that cannot be aired on prime time television, but that's about it.  None of us at Chi Chi's could speak fluent Russian either, so conversations with Eugene got muddy.  Example:

     "Good job, Eugene," says the manager.
     "#@?!!* da @@#*!!" laughs Eugene.
  I am not trying to make fun of his language or failure to learn ours; I am merely attempting to prepare you for my story.
     I stopped at a stop sign, which is where the adventure began.
     Eugene came up to my window and uttered something like, "Me, uh da uh."
     After noticing my bewildered face, he again uttered the same thing with a few more grunts.
     Knowing I had to say something so I could be on my way, I said, "Sure, sounds good, Eugene."
     Eugene smiled, walked around to my passenger door and got in.  He was very polite, shaking my hand and grunting some kind of thankfulness to me.
     Realizing that I had inadvertently offered Eugene a ride, I started to drive.  I asked him for directions, and though my voice probably rendered all grunts to him, he picked up on my inquisitive tone and started pointing.  After cruising through a few hotel and gas station parking lots, we found Eugene's street.  We smiled and laughed, happy that we made it.  Eugene pointed to his house and I stopped to let him out.  We exchanged grunts and waved good-bye.  Then I drove along on my way to do whatever it was that I was supposed to get done.

ok...not a perfect piece of writing, but I'd forgotten all about this guy and the story I jotted down years ago helps me now to remember a goofy, but good memory.  If you are a writer, write no matter the outcome...getting your mind recorded on paper or flash drive us the outcome of matter--it matters!

Father's Day

Healer heal me!
I'm sick indeed
My heart is weary
My burden heavy
My legs can't stand
I can't withstand

Heal me, Healer
Holy Spirit, heal me
Touch me, heal me
That I may run again

Healer, heal me!
My voice is gone
Winded lungs
Breathing heavy
All strength is gone
I can't withstand

Heal me, Healer
Holy Spirit, heal me
Teach me, heal me
That I may sing again

God, why?
Why the suffering?
My thoughts are dead
My eyes are blind
Stumbling in the dark
I can't withstand

Heal me, Healer
Holy Spirit, heal me!
Touch me
That I may see your face

Thoughts lay scattered
Shattered, strewn about
Memories faded, crystal clear
coming, leaving, returning

Why?

Return to me faded memories
Return to me in the night
Fading at dawn
That I may wake in Your glory
Rejoicing in the reunion

Still, now I wonder

Hope hasn't passed
Yet lies scattered, shattered, thrown about
Faded crystal, coming, leaving
Return to me hope
Answer my yearning

                    That I may be complete

The Road

The road begins

leading through the wilderness

to pools of still water

lily pads, mosquitos, croaks

amidst the tall grass

Failure promotes fallacy

in action--retreat

in retreat--returning

just short of failure

refusing to decline

by denying the test

the will, the want the need

so strong yet the heart

rarely outtakes the mind

yet the brain misguides

                                                                                                                wholeheartedly the soul

Savannah's Waterfall

A loud rushing noise plummeting to the ground.

Put your hand in and feel the powerful

blow yet soft and wet.  It is blue--a very 

deep but dear blue.  It continuously plummets

down to the same point as more and more comes.  It can be gentle yet powerful.

Its roar can be heard from far off.

It is unlike anything else.

Spiritual Block: The Naked Man in Mark

I've heard several arguments and statements that the Bible is an old book of legend and myths.  I believe along the same viewpoint as Lee Strobel, C.S. Lewis, R.C. Sproul and other very smart guys--it just doesn't read like a lie!

I don't intend here to cover everything, but I've been following my own advice on the spiritual block and reading through the Gospels.  I landed on a verse in Mark that just doesn't read like a lie.   

"A young man, wearing nothing but a linen garment, was following Jesus when they seized him, he fled, naked, leaving his garment behind."  Mk 14:51-52

I have read some authors' views indicating this showing the tense urgency of the moment, or spiritualizing as he left his old covering behind to be naked and transparent before God, and some others; but as I heard this tonight, I thought something very different.  I thought guys sitting around Mark, recounting events from that dreadful night--only in light of the resurrection.  When ultimately, there is good news, the hilarious is easier to remember.

I envision, Thadaeus talking to James of Alphaeus:

     "Hey, James, do you remember that crazy dude who only had on a bed sheet in the garden when Jesus was taken into custody? "

     "Oh man, that was crazy, CRAZY, man!"

     "You remember, Peter cut that poor guys ear off, and then this guy took off and lost his sheet!"

     "Yeah, running in his 'birthday suit' through the garden!  Man, if it hadn't been so heavy a night, what a riot!"

     "Hey, Mark, what are you writing there?  Man, you've gotta include this!  That was hilarious!"

Mark:  "Well, I'm not sure how I'll work it in, but you're right...gotta include it, Man!"

You see, this just doesn't read like a lie.  Maybe I'm just a little off-center, but I think it could have gone down like this...I really do.  

Writer's Block: The Waterfall Writing

My "Waterfall"

     A liquid mass, churning and bubbling over rocks, protruding in futile protest among the waves and swirling pools, flows following the pull of gravity.  The river runs cold from the snowmelt, underneath fallen tees suspended by drowning boulders.  A pebble thrown penetrates the surface, yet the force below the foam cuts deeper into the mountain granite.
     Tumbling over the precipice, the rush of thunder melts into mist, with the rock face veiled by the drunken lens of distorted glass.  The river's soul plunges over and over in the roar of a freight train without the clickety-clack of the wheels.
     A placid cover beyond the chaos of the soul, churning upon itself, deceives the eye.  With the peace comes the silent, swift current of the spirit washing over stepping stones along a more daring path.

Instructions:

If your writing thoughts are dry, how about a waterfall? If you are lucky enough to live near one, sit by the waterfall. If not so lucky, find a video or pictures of falls. Study the flow of water and after 5 to 10 minutes of studying, spend 15 minutes describing the waterfall without using the word 'water.'

Writer's Block: The Waterfall

New Writer's Block:
Writing exercises can often jog the pen when it seems dry.

If your writing thoughts are dry, how about a waterfall? If you are lucky enough to live near one, sit by the waterfall. If not so lucky, find a video or pictures of falls. Study the flow of water and after 5 to 10 minutes of studying, spend 15 minutes describing the waterfall without using the word 'water.' I will post an example or two tomorrow.

King of the Hill

Today at church, we studied a lesson prepared regarding Jesus' trial (source, Dr. Tom Thatcher, Cincinnati Bible College).  To cut to the quick of the study and to give you opportunity to research on your own, I'll move to the point...the King of the Hill reference is to the childhood game and not the cartoon series.

Three worldly kings emerged in the trial of Jesus for review:  Caiaphas, Herod and Pilate.

Caiaphas was the high priest of the Jews and in essence, King of legalism and self-righteousness.  He did not want Jesus to take his hill of prestige and honor.  Caiaphas had inherited the seat from his father Annas and held tight to his position through laying the law and guilt upon the backs of the Jews.  Have you ever prayed a thanks to God for not being as spiritually messed up as others?  Does this hill still exist in the church today?  Are you currently climbing this hill?

Herod was a self-indulgent, pleasure-seeking king.  When Jesus was brought to him, Herod hoped for a miracle show!  His devotion to the pleasure hill was so great, it took him through incestuous, adulterous relationships and the beheading of John the Baptist.  Jesus did not entertain him, so he sent him to Pilate. Has anyone else stayed up late watching entertainment that will be forgotten in 50 years if not 50 minutes from now, but then found it impossible to get up in the morning to pray and spend time with Jesus?  He just doesn't entertain us the way the TV does!  Has anyone had someone beheaded because they scolded you?  Probably not--if so, please don't comment here, but do turn yourself in--but have you attempted to destroy others who have confronted you by spreading hateful speech?

Pilate was thought to be a fictitious hill, made up by the Gospel  writers.  Archaeologists, though, found coins bearing his likeness and name.  Now, they can be found on eBay too!  He was anti-religion and pro-state.  He climbed atop the money/capitol hill as well as political power pinnacle.  Should we keep Christianity out of the political process?  Can scripture advise us in evaluating political platforms, issues and candidates?  What does Jesus have to say about money?  He actually has quite a bit to say about money.  Are you approaching money as Jesus has instructed?  Study that one with all his preaching on the subject before answering too quickly.  Are you climbing this hill or defending your position 'near the top?'

The study is intriguing, but I ask you to go beyond intrigued.  Jesus told these three that He is the Christ, the Son of God, the King of the Jews; that he would be coming on the clouds--the Kingdom of Heaven is at hand!  Notice, too, that Herod was too distracted and hardened  to admonishment that he did not get a response from Jesus.  Pilate asked Jesus, "What is truth?" --an ironic question of the One who is the Way, the Truth and the Light.  I encourage you in your own study time to take a look at the hills you may be storming, or those you may be fortifying.  Jesus is King of our pleasure and contentment; He is king of our money and jobs; He is King of our salvation, of Heaven.

Run to the hills! But not your own, run to the ones that Jesus has secured and fortified, the ones upon which He has prepared a place for you.  Please comment on ways He has provided pleasure for you, spiritual awakenings, personal blessings--Heavenly hills promise so much more than the hills of this world.  Please encourage others here, in your family or community to remind them of His promises and His blessings.

In Christ, Andy

Writer's Block: The Rock

"The Rock"

The rock sat motionless, ignoring the paws of the dog prancing upon its smooth surface.  The surface seemed smooth at first glance, but these dog nails were not the first to place marks of character upon the surface of the stone.

A lump protruded from one end as if a bubble of air were attempting escape.  The hard crust of the rock, though, held the bubble frozen in time, never to burst.

The rock stood impervious to the wind.  Though dirt flew upon it and the grass bent in the breeze, the rock stood still, unmoved by wind.  While unchanged by the wind, water darkened its underside.  Though not releasing the bubble, it soaked up the fresh spring rain, hoping to gather a bit of moss before the scorch of the summer sun dried the earth around it in the days to come.

The rock rejoiced in springtime, soaking up the rain, blowing bubbles and standing firm in the rush of stormy winds, while maintaining rest and peace--calm amidst life and weather and dogs.

Truly this rock marvels at activity all around while activity struggles to find peace in a passion to be still and one with God.


Writer's Block exercise:
Writing exercises can often jog the pen when it seems dry. Active writing has been driven into my hand since my early attempts garnered such critique from teachers. Falling into the passive voice cripples the effort to pull a reader into the page.

To help exercise my active writing chops, I chose recently to write about a rock in our yard with a purposeful attempt to use active verbs. Try it yourself. If not a rock, try anything seemingly inanimate and animate it with your active voice!

I Am

In my lover's eyes, the beautiful intricacies 
of composition beyond random chance 

In human life born from love given by grace 
held by unworthy hands, loved with a corrupt heart 

In an infant boy, swimming alone, but not alone 
and back home safe 

A smile with freckles and dimples and charm 
with a soft voice whispering, "I love you" 

In a perfect flight, a perfect group, squeaky shoes 
the tight grip of my finger 

In a premature baptism in Hefei, a glimpse 
of the hope of salvation, a glimpse of His heart for the orphans 

Orphans no more, though without a father, not without the Father, heirs to all hope and glory!

Post 1

This is obviously the first post for my blog.  I hope to encourage and inspire, but ultimately to give glory to God through the creation of my virtual pen, that you may experience Him, too, through some suggested writing exercises and spiritual reflections of the good news of Jesus Christ.

But grow in the grace and knowledge of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.  To Him be glory both now and forever!  Amen.  2 Peter 3:18

In Christ,
Andy