For All the Saints

The Mercy of the Miraculous

2010-05-04T11:46:00.000-07:00

For Bobby
The sword-like sound
of the voice un-easily heard
snaps the sinews of our souls
which bind them to earth.
As unbidden fire
would consume a life with a crack,
so the voice may well unmake
the plans well laid,

And you know it…

Which is why mercy
makes it hard to hear.
So that the curse of our deafness
would drive us to desperate knees,
and when the word at last is heard,
and our aural sense unstopped,
we might not mistake
the kindness of our life’s consumption
for cruelty.

Favorite Wendell Berry Poems...

2010-05-02T14:28:00.000-07:00

Of late, I have been doing far more reading than writing. Although I confess, that I've written more than I've shared and perhaps you will read it soon. But until then, I thought I'd share a few of Wendell Berry's poems that have moved me lately...

Drouth

All day the crops burn in cloudless air,
Drouth lengthening against belief. At night
The husbands and the wives lie side by side,
Awake, the ache of panic in their bones,
Their purposes betrayed by purposes
Unknown, whose mystery is the dark in which
They wait and grieve. All may be lost, and then
What will they do? When money is required
Of them, and they have none, where will they go?

Many will go in blame against the world,
Hating it for their pain, and they will go
Alone across the dry, bright, lifeless days,
And thus alone into the dark. Others
In grief and loss will see more certainly
What they have loved, and will belong to it
And to each other as in happiness
They never did-- hearing, though the whole world
Go dry, the hidden raincrow of their hope.

For an Absence

When I cannot be with you
I will send my love (so much
is allowed to human lovers)
to watch over you in the dark--
a winged small presence
who never sleeps, however long
the night. Perhaps it cannot
protect or help, I do not know,
but it watches always, and so
you will sleep within my love
within the room within the dark.
And when, restless, you wake
and see the room palely lit
by that watching, you will think,
"It is only dawn," and go
quiet to sleep again.

The Blue Robe

(note: This is how I (Will) would one day like to to look upon my beloved)

How joyful to be together, alone
as when we first were joined
in our little house by the river
long ago, except that now we know

each other, as we did not then;
and now instead of two stories fumbling
to meet, we belong to one story
that the two, joining, made. And now

we touch each other with the tenderness
of mortals, who know themselves:
how joyful to feel the heart quake

at the sight of a grandmother,
old friend in the morning light,
beautiful in her blue robe!

That's all for now. I hope these move you to read Wendell Berry in any context. I cannot promise that he will move you, but he has moved me, and helped my soul understand how to heal.

Let the journey continue...

2010-03-08T07:55:00.000-08:00

Approximately twenty five years and three days ago, I began a journey in life that has (with hind sight's wisdom) always been headed towards the kingdom of Jesus Christ and total redemption that he's bringing. I cannot count or thank the sum of all the people who have helped me on this journey and been a part of what God has been doing in my life. About a year ago the idea began to solidify that I will never be able to give anyone as much as I have been given. I will never be able to forgive what I have been forgiven. I will never be able to suffer for others the extent that others have suffered for my sake. To clarify, I'm not speaking in metaphorical or an abstract sense, but a physical reality. Whether you take my statements to mean other people in my life or God himself the physical reality remains that I have been blessed beyond paying back. And for all of this I give glory, praise, and thanks to God.

I came across this meditation in my Celtic Daily Prayer book that talks about the reality of our relationship to God.

The Cry to God as 'Father'
in the New Testament
is not a calm acknowledgement
of a universal truth about
God's abstract Fatherhood.
It is the Child's cry
out of a nightmare.

It is the cry of outrage,
fear, shrinking away,
when faced with the horror
of the 'world'
- yet not simply or exclusively
protest, but trust as well.

'Abba Father'
all things are possible
to thee...

-- Rowan Williams

I guess the point of me writing all these things is that far too often I start to disbelieve that God is for me. He seems far removed from my physical daily experience. I wonder if he's real, and even more so if he really wants what's good for me. My own experience as I cry out to God as Father is the same desperation of Williams. I don't want any abstract cheap, merely emotional satisfaction. I desire real interaction with a person who offers and follows through on salvation. I rejoice to say that this has been my experience, my reality. I mourn, however the reality of my forgetfulness, the reality of my disbelief in my experience and in the Word he's spoken into my life. My response to these dual realities to write this note for the sake of remembrance.

Yesterday morning I met with a woman in a coffee shop and shared about the ministry that God has moved me towards reaching out to college students. I invited her to be a part of what God is doing and she joyfully made a decision to pray for me and to give $30 a month towards reaching college students in Albuquerque, NM. Her decision marked a significant moment in my life. This finishes of my initial support goal and begin my transition to Albuquerque. The journey is far from over. I will if I continue with the organization that I'm with, hopefully raise thousands more dollars in new monthly support if I ever get married, have children, and replace donors led to give elsewhere. This is a significant time of transition however as I remember the thousands of dollars God has already raised to bring me to this point. I have remarked several times recently about "the difficulty of support raising," that there have indeed been times that it has been the hardest thing I've ever done. That I rejoice to say is no longer true. I look forward to doing harder things that require more faith eagerly. God is soo good. He's not just part good, or someone with good intentions he can't follow through on. He's the best, he wants the best for us, and will give us the best if we will get over ourselves and believe him.

In summary God has provided for my physical needs and he wants to provide for yours too. He's good. Give him glory and honor him. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will lead you and make straight your paths. This is what I've experienced, I just thought I'd let you know.

Broken

2009-11-13T14:20:00.000-08:00

Broken we watch the things which are breaking
as the innocent break from our innocence taking
we watch the helpless abused for their guileless smiles
while our own hearts are hardened by our pitiful trials
we watch the useful get used till their empty and wasted
their fruit left unripened, their best juices untasted

We fall to the ground overwhelmed by our sight
for it feels like the sky all our lives has been night
and the darkness within us has matched the darkness without
and so thoughts of the morning fill our soul with grave doubt
we’ve watched so much darkness flow out from our souls
would the bringing of light in not only bring holes?
would we not be fractured beyond all repair
if that which flows from us was no longer there?
Watch thus yourself closely that you may not fall prey
to that which we doubt most, the dread breaking of day.

And broken we’ll weep for the things we’ve been breaking
but not comprehend grief from our innocence taking
for the helpless need helped from their pitiful smiles
and their hearts they need hardening for all life’s harsh trials.
the useful need using before too old and wasted
their fruit after all is no good left untasted.

We fall and rest on the ground, well pleased by our sight.
And why not? For the sky all our lives has been night.

For Ryan

2009-11-13T14:18:00.000-08:00

As the light sifts softly
through the dust which hangs still softer
in the morning air
a memory of the bout before the dawn
the grappling of the good and true with you
from here we’ll limp
with holy unhinged hips
to remind us of the one who’s whole
the one who is our home
the one to whom we go
as we journey through the trees.

An impassioned plea for pens, paper, and the printed word.

2009-10-30T20:51:00.000-07:00

[note: I should mention that I wrote this when I really wanted to write a friend a note and a poem for his birthday but had no pen, just a computer. The words felt empty and so I wrote this instead. It's based on a quote another friend told me that was ironically in a book that said, "books are where words go to die."]

Books are where words go to die,
but here they’ve never lived.
They’ve never felt your eyes
except through the veil,
never felt your touch or been a part of a page
which, leafing softly, fluttered in your ears
casting scents of new or aging paper
upon your hungry nose.
Here they are sexless fantasies which
emptied of their power need
complex circuitry to bring them to light.
No warm soft light illuminates them,
only cold backlit translucence.
Words here are like cut flowers
which, while in more amiable and accessible surroundings,
are far from the home where they became beautiful.
Like animals in a zoo, there is a sense of settling.
A sense that though complacent in their cages
their eyes were meant for the hunt.
Like your elders in a “home,”
their wit and wisdom dulled
through lack of needful relationship.

Yet here we mistakenly hope,

trading beauty and sense
for a chance that somehow without them
we will communicate truth
more efficiently.

Meditation on Isaiah 53

2009-10-13T09:42:00.000-07:00

All
pornograhpers, slavers, and ethnic cleansers
molesters, racists, and liars
cheaters, addicts, and whores
all drunks, sluts
and abusers of the physical, sexual, emotional
all oath-breakers, haters, and homos
bitches and witches
bastard children and adulterating parents
all terrorists, extortionists, and gossips
slanderers, blasphemers, idolaters,
all the arrogant, unrepentant, and reprobate
heretics, cannibals, and violent

have hope.

paradoxical,
beaming hope.

shining brightly
in the downcast eyes
of him who carries

the iniquity of us all.

You is.

2009-09-11T11:09:00.000-07:00

You is.
You is the was
you is the now
and you is the gonna be.

You is the word that was spoke
to make the sun shinin’ day and the starry dark night.
You is what made the fishes swim
and the cow to chew the cud.
You is what makes rain drops fall down
and the sweet corn come up outta the dirt.

You is what made most all that sees the sun and some things that don’t
Jesus, you is what made the sun shine today,
and you is what brings the clouds across the plain.
you is why I’m breathin’ and why I’m cryin’
lovin’, laughin’, livin’
Everything that’s livin’s only livin’ cause you is.

But the thing is that most a what’s livin’s broken.
and the livin’ end up dyin’ someday…
but you is dyin’ too.
least ways you did one time.

The thing is that of everything that’s dyin’ you is the only one ain’t dyin no more.
Cause you is the gonna be.
You is the livin’ again.
You is the big brother of all o’ what’s been broken, dead and gonna be livin’ again.
and count o’ that you is gonna be King of all a what was, is now, and is gonna be.
and every broken livin’ thing that sees that for you there ain’t much difference between the was, the now, and the gonna be has gotta go ahead and make you 'is King.
cause the gonna be happened a long time before the was was even a gonna be.

So when you is born in a feedin’ trough you is already a King though none o’ the kings that was would ever think much of ya.

And when you is lovin’ the parts of us that’s broke, it hurts so bad we don’t believe in kings at all. But you is still a King that washes our dirty toes, confusin’ all our ideas about what you is.

But when you is gonna be breakin’ in next time… well kings is gonna be hidin’ cause they gonna realize that they all been doin' is playin’ dress up and weren’t really kings at all…

not compared to what’s gonna be.

Something I wrote as I began to sense the air turning to gray...

2009-08-28T10:05:00.000-07:00

Tonight
we wait
long have we come from distant lands

long coming we come to this moment
and now
tonight
we wait.
in the darkness we have heard the distant star's song
and now
tonight
we wait.

the cellestial anthem beckons us to fix our gaze upon the East
and now tonight we wait.
In pitchest black before the dawn
tears streaming in silent anticipation
water the ground with the sorrow of long-suffering
as now
tonight
we wait.
broken from our journey
longing for the break of day
sobs of yearning break
as the air turns to gray
we look to the East as rays of gold
stain the sky and as day comes in all its splendor
the seeds planted in barren ground long ago
watered only by tears and warmed by mere starlight
spring forth in life.
love has come.
love has come.
love has come.
the wait is over. now floods of joy stream down.

And the song! The song which began among the heavens millenia ago before the darkness. The song which has been sung by seraphs before the throne of God Most High. The song which had its origins deep in the Sovereign's heart ahd flows thru all the Holy One is and does. The song of all and the song of the One and Only. The song of creation and the song which destroys the old for the sake of the new, redeeming what was forfeit for the sake of its hearing. The song which has never known beginning and sees no end. The song which governs time. The song of our Savior who sings over us leaping and shouting and magnifying, creating, loving, caring, knowing us. The song is given to man. And all the weeping, the sorrow, the bondage, the heartache, and the pride is replaced with tears of joy, thanksgiving, happiness, freedom, light, and wholeness. True honor is given to man as he takes his place giving honor thru the song to Most High. Looking ever eastward whence comes his King.

"God is not like me" or "How I learned that freedom doesn't come with comfort."

2009-08-26T15:43:00.000-07:00

I thought you small
I thought you weak
I thought you looked
a lot like me.
I thought you safe
I thought you white
I thought you’d let me
sleep at night.

I tried to put you in a box
But it seems that not
the strongest locks
could start to hold you in.
I had you down
I had you snared
But it seems I’d grasped
no thing but air.

and then...

into the world you made, you came
not the least bit weak, nor tame
you spoke, you bled, you died, you rose
and when I lay in sin you chose
to save me from myself.

Then it all became so clear
that all I’d once held close and dear
was just a pile of shit.

But you...

You it seems are not like me
Not weak, not small
but strong and free
Your love abounds so mad, so wild
and it demands all from this child.
As that is how I acted while
I wanted you to be like me.

Every Careless Word

2009-08-19T15:32:00.001-07:00

Every careless word that's ever come upon my lips
has been loading one side of a scale
which now only one way will tip.
All the "I love you"s and "I'll give you my heart"s
the "I'll never leave you"s and the "we'll never part"s
Now stand to condemn me without an excuse
all screaming me careless for over misuse.
Is there any who speaks true to love till the end?
Is there any pure, kind, or unfailing friend?
Is there any who's heart is uncrooked, unbent?
Is there any who's ever said exactly what he meant?
And saying the truest words from the core of his soul
had strength to then follow through to make others whole?

Dear brother don't lose hope
don't falter my son
for one Word's been spoken from before worlds begun
and though once it was spoken
here twice have I heard
the speaker's love is unbroken
and there's power in his Word.
Take heart then my brother
put away all your fear.
For though you've always been leaving
this Word now has drawn near.

How Long

2009-08-19T14:54:00.000-07:00

How I long, how I long
O Lord how long will I long for home?
How long will I roam upon longing roads?
How long will I long for home?
How long the rest of the miles til my wrestling soul rests?
How long will I long for home?
How long must grow in a body which groans
and how long will I owe for the things I can't own?
How long will I long for home?
How long til my ready body's redeemed?
How long til unnatural sons will by nature be seen?
How long will I long for home?
How long will my hope be all that I have,
til in having then all of my hope at last pass?
How long will I long for home?

broken.

2009-07-22T22:26:00.000-07:00

I got my .40 cal cocked and I don't know how to use it
I don't even know if know how not to lose it.
All I know is you're in my sights and you won't move will you?
I know everyone dies but I don't wanna kill you
I've left shattered dreams from here on down to the border
and leaving one more ain't too tall of an order
if I cry when I kill you it ain't because I true loved you
but rather because I put my own dreams above you
And when you fall to the ground then my dream's lost its prop
then all my hopes engines will come to dead stop
so I'll plead with you to stay there I'd with all my might will you
not so that you won't die but I don't wanna kill you.

A piece of my heart

2009-07-14T16:08:00.000-07:00

I will carry you always
in a piece of my heart
which no doubt has grown smaller
the more we've been apart
but the pull is still there
an echo of love.

Haiku #1

2009-07-14T16:03:00.000-07:00

I like haikus that
don't make any sense at all.
Stop looking at me.

The ones I cannot know...

2009-07-09T20:33:00.000-07:00

She walks solely on the souls of men
who want her solely for her soul
She sees their sullen eyes which seek
her solely subtle soulish ways.
and when the man's souls strength is spent
its then upon his soul she preys.
he'll walk until his soles wear thin
till his weary soul no more can stand to win
the solace of her acidic soul.

Mama

2009-07-05T20:05:00.000-07:00

A poem to honor the 90 years of Harriett Lou Whitesides, my grandmother.
By Will Rearick

A motherly love
a saintly repose
eyes fast up above
fuel a faith which still grows

A heart beats with prayers
and head shakes with laughter
both still eager to care
for the ones who’ve come after

Wise eyes long have watered
fields of sorrow and joy
and have seen sons and daughters
their fruits long employ

Though the journey’s been long
and the legs may be tired
the heart still sings the song
and holds fast to the fire.

Your life it speaks freedom
to me and my kin
which allows us in seasons
our own lives to win
not by works nor by reasons
which we’ve found from within
but by God who foreverly faithful has been.

I wanna tell you somethin'

2009-06-27T14:42:00.000-07:00

All shadows in this world which here night our light
live in a garden growing ever more bright
and when death in this world causes us to decay
the queen light to them will at once be displayed

Their bodies out of the ground once old and abused
will wink out the instant queenlight beauty's infused
through ground we will travel, bodies old up through the terf
while our shadows are born out of wombs with queen's worth

Brother can you remember our garden world home
where queen light went through us wherever we'd roam?
Hold fast to that memory with no fear in your heart
for we'll go there again when this world we shall part.

22 Aldeah

2009-06-14T22:12:00.000-07:00

For Brian

Silently watching tobacco bowls glowing
warmly we grasp the pace of life slowing
speaking of fathers and the souls we've been showing
the ways which the church and your baby's been growing

finding substantive answers for our hungry souls' why's
in reading of rivers and tying on flies
and of polar bear dreefees of miniature size
we'll leave here the lighter and feeling more wise.

a moment of peace grants our eyes a new view
to how loss and silence are similarly used
to teach use of the gifts with which we've been imbued
and draw our eyes to the one who will carry us through

though now the nights on the porch seem all none to many
we'll trust we were also not given too few
we'll bless the great giver for granting us any
and with mixed joy in our hearts bid each other adieu.

Possibly my new favorite poem...

2009-06-11T13:20:00.001-07:00

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don't deal in lies,
Or being hated don't give way to hating,
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream---and not make dreams your master;
If you can think---and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build'em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings---nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
And---which is more---you'll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling

what if?

2009-05-20T12:37:00.000-07:00

what if none of these lines work in time?
what if they don't rhyme?
what if this song sucks?

what if all your fears were true?
what if everyone laughed at you?
then what would you do?

would you get up and try again
resolved to be a perfect ten
doomed once again to fail?

would in defeat you take your seat
and suffer dishonor in retreat
doomed to never try again?

what if all of them were wrong?
what if you just sang to sing your song?
would it be so bad?

The thing about seasons.

2009-05-08T23:30:00.000-07:00

a poem for Jamie Wagner
written by Will Rearick

When high above sight great dark clouds have grown
and dark unthawed ground lies cold hard below
and when all around you the icy winds flow
and when all seems deadest, dear sister then know
that winter’s cold will end.

And when the cool rain breaks hard upon earth
and nature’s redeemed for all of its worth
when all that’s been dead receives its new birth
dear sister then smile with all joyous mirth
for spring has come again.

As summer comes forth with verdancy deep
and on her warm nights you rest from her heat
as of sweetest fruits from her storehouse you reap
dear sister your excess remember to keep
for summer has its end.

And when the chill winds of autumn do heighten
the sense that your best fruit has long since been ripened
when the limbs of your trees from their leaves become lightened
dear sister do not let your life’s joy be siphoned
for all seasons know an end.

The only way...

2009-03-09T21:36:00.000-07:00

The only way to combat materialism is to give your stuff away. The only way to not live in fear of being found out is to be as honest as you can about all that lies in your heart. The only way end violence is to turn the other cheek. The only way to stop theft is to give thieves what they would take. The only way to be rich is to embrace poverty. The only way to live to is to give your life away. The only way to uproot bitterness is to bless the ones who curse. The only way to joy is grief. The only way through fear of failure is to fail and wake up very much alive the next day again, and again, and again... The only to be full is to be empty. The only answer to your hatred of God is his love for you. The only way to strength is weakness. The only way out of loneliness is solitude. The only way to understand is to become foolish. The only way to win is to give up. And if you're like me... the only way to do what's right is to think of the least intuitive thing you could do, and do it.

(these thoughts inspired by Jesus Christ, Henri Nouwen, and Dan Allan among others...)

An inspiring message...

2009-02-25T15:59:00.000-08:00

I just listened to this message from flatirons church. Well... those are all the messages but I listened to the one from Dec. 13-14 entitled "Move On." I was incredibly moved to hope, and had to put it out there for your encouragement.

I work for these people and I don't really know what to say...

2009-01-30T08:59:00.001-08:00

So weird...

Am I a Man?

2009-01-29T07:52:00.000-08:00

Yes... technically... yes (flight of the conchords reference). But anyway...

This morning I was staring at myself in the mirror trying to decide whether or not I should shave. I decided that the stubble on my face made me feel a little more manly and I decided that I can use all the reminders I can get. It made me think though. A couple weeks ago I wrote what I would call, "The Story of my Man-ness" in my journal. It was pretty much the story of my life and the key stories, moments, personality traits and failures that have shaped who I am as a man. I wrote at the end that I don't need anyone to tell me I'm a man. And this morning I wonder how true that is. As I thought about my facial hair I thought about how often I don't really think of myself as a man. Or worse I think of myself as a man but don't embrace the meaning or responsibilities of it. It's kinda like being given the title and license of a doctor but refusing to treat your patients on days when you feel burnt out. You'd get pissed if someone said you weren't a doctor or shouldn't be practicing, but really your actions don't show that you're anybody different from someone who isn't a doctor. A friend told me this afternoon, you don't need anyone to tell you your a man, but you need lots of people to tell you what you're supposed to do because of it. Then he asked me why that's the case. It's because the primary responsibilities of manhood involve self-sacrifice (providing and protecting specifically) and not self-preservation. None of me normally wants to give anything up. Most of the time I'm thinking about how I can hold onto more and save myself from pain, instead of give away more of myself until I have nothing left. The other aspects of manhood, the pursuer and leadership nature of it, I often fear my own inadequacies.

The good news is that Jesus provides in pretty solid ways through the cross to address both fears of discomfort and of inadequacy. To my discomfort Jesus offers future hope and a resurrection. To my inadequacy he offers me the opportunity to nail my sins to a cross and the robe off his back to clothe my shame. He offers a Spirit that brings power to live above my circumstances instead of drowning in the sea of them. That same Spirit gives me peace in the midst of the deep questions caused by the pain of life. And all of this gives me great hope for the future. I don't know all of what it holds but I believe it will be good. Let not the lamp of hope die, my friends. For the morning comes soon...

Twice in one month?

2009-01-28T17:44:00.000-08:00

No, that last post was a poem I wrote years ago finally reappearing... this is fresh though.

I was reading in Philippians 2 yesterday reading that passage where Paul tells believers to be humble. He says stuff like "Do nothing out of rivalry or conceit." and "consider others more significant than yourselves." As I read that yesterday morning, I took it in stride as just a piece of a long list of areas of my heart that need work. But as I continued reading a couple lines down, I got to this part where Paul says to do this stuff so that we can be like Jesus. He made himself a servant. He was God and gave it up to be a man. One who would die for those who followed him for a few years and then ditched him when things took a turn. And it occurred to me. The essence of the believer's life is not to regain what we've lost, or even to hold onto the things that we have. The point is to give ourselves away for the sake of others as much as we possibly can, maybe even our entire lives. I'm not talking like Jimmy Stewart "It's a Wonderful Life" type giving away your life (although that's one of my favorite movies of all time). I'm talking your friends walk away from you when you're about to die type of life. Paul says be like Jesus. I have to confess that it's been only recently that I've started to take that advice with any weight, and I hope that one day I will take it with greater serious that I do now. Until then I'm eternally grateful that the man I want to be like made himself lower than me.

Hope...

2009-01-13T13:50:00.000-08:00

O Lord let me fix my eyes
steadfast upon your face
for only then can I believe
that you still offer grace.
Fixed hard upon the smile-worn lines
which now form love's stern gaze.

Best of my Xanga...

2008-12-14T16:44:00.000-08:00

So this series may only be one post long... but remember xangas... they were the bomb right? Well I had one too... and this was probably the best thing I've ever written on it:

Sometimes I feel pretty dirty. Sometimes its because I've done something I feel particularly dirty for doing. Other times its just the accumulated filth of not doing business with God. I've thought about this a lot and I don't feel like I'm any less acceptable to God. I think its probably the other way around. That God becomes less acceptable to me. I think when I get into these moods I'm no longer okay with having nothing to offer God.
I talked to a girl in the SUB about a week ago who's biggest problem with Christianity was that people couldn't work off their shortcomings. That resonated with me because in a sense that's my biggest problem with Christianity too. I keep hoping that there's some way besides the humiliation, pain, and self-denial of the cross. There is nothing more. There is no more blessing and no more reward, than the body and blood of Christ [credit: Derek Webb]. There is nothing in the goodness and obedience of my hands for the obedience of my hands was made possible through Christ's blood. He is all in all.
Lately I've been feeling dirty (the accumulated filth kind). I struggle to come to God with nothing. It seems shameful, undeserved, disrespectful even. And in a way it is all of those things. But Jesus still smiles. The love of the Father still embraces the prodigal. The Spirit still comforts. The immutable nature of our faithful God beckons to us to surrender saying, "there is nothing more." You don't need to be whole to come to Jesus. My brother asked me a question concerning the passage in the Word where Jesus says that he came to save the sick. I expressed that I'd had similar quandries about the matter. In the context of the text it would seem perhaps that pharisees are not sick. But we know from elsewhere that they are. Hence the dilemma. Reguardless of dilemmas, in the context of my life this passage speaks wonderous love to my heart. Jesus came for such as I. If I boast of health, Jesus will not come to me. He will move on to those who admit weakness. And so if the blessings fall on those who are poor in spirit, then I will humbly join the ranks of such worthy individuals.

love.

will

Autumnal

2008-12-06T12:26:00.000-08:00

Sun seems distant this time of year
as life is on the retreat
having given one last burst of radiant joy
to let all know it's glory
hoping
that it will not be forgotten by the dormancy
of a winter too long

Retreating behind armor of thick bark
sap recedes to meditate upon the effects of the fall
it has experienced again.
The world looks on and sees the barren branches.
The arms once clothed in blossoming beauty of life
now stripped and naked.

But deep underground
deeper than the season's chill
the roots draw up springs from the ground
and from the cold dreary rains of autumn
life is sustained and assured
that as it passes through a season of winter
it will only be for a season,
and so gathers new strength.

Can I See Another's Woe?

2008-11-09T21:27:00.000-08:00

Can I see another's woe,
And not be in sorrow too?
Can I see another's grief,
And not seek for kind relief?

Can I see a falling tear,
And not feel my sorrow's share?
Can a father see his child
Weep, nor be with sorrow filled?

Can a mother sit and hear
An infant groan, an infant fear?
No, no!  never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

And can He who smiles on all
Hear the wren with sorrows small,
Hear the small bird's grief and care,
Hear the woes that infants bear --

And not sit beside the next,
Pouring pity in their breast,
And not sit the cradle near,
Weeping tear on infant's tear?

And not sit both night and day,
Wiping all our tears away?
Oh no! never can it be!
Never, never can it be!

He doth give his joy to all:
He becomes an infant small,
He becomes a man of woe,
He doth feel the sorrow too.

Think not thou canst sigh a sigh,
And thy Maker is not by:
Think not thou canst weep a tear,
And thy Maker is not year.

Oh He gives to us his joy,
That our grief He may destroy:
Till our grief is fled and gone
He doth sit by us and moan.

-William Blake

The Morning After

2008-11-06T07:50:00.000-08:00

Time lost and wasted
spills over the dawn into a day
breaking with guilt and fear.
Can a day or work be blessed
while life endures such great weakness?

But hope also rises with the dawn
as to the cross the sinner's drawn.

Awake O sleeper!
For from the Father's faces do shine
the smiles of love forever thine.

Reconciliation...

2008-11-05T20:53:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago I had a conversation with a friend of mine where he confessed that he had strong feelings of animosity in his heart towards another brother who had done some harmful things to him. When he thought about his brother hatred arose for how he had hurt him and his family inadvertently through some foolish actions. While the brother had undergone church discipline and was no longer directly involved in my friend's community, my friend still harbored bitterness in his heart towards him. This situation was hard for me to swallow. It broke my heart to know of the sin in my brother's heart that was being justified by sins against him. And it got me thinking about forgiveness. I feel like over the past weeks, God has used this situation along with a book I've been reading and most recently a discussion in a small group in my church this evening to bring the idea of forgiveness and more specifically reconciliation to the forefront of my brain tonight. You dear friend, are the beneficiary of my meditations.

The most obvious truth about forgiveness is that we who have been for forgiven must forgive. It is not as easy as saying, "Yeah... I should probably not hold it against her any more." As someone once said, we need to stop shoulding all over ourselves. Forgiveness (and any mandate of Christ) is not motivated by any sort of legalistic shoulds or shouldn'ts.

I had a unique experience about a month and a half ago at a coffee shop. I was walking in to have a quiet time and passed a guy on a bench who asked for some change. I truthfully told him that I didn't have any. As I walked away into the coffee shop, I thought to myself, "I probably should have helped and maybe I should probably help him still by giving him my free pastry I'm about to receive for buying a cup of coffee." Feeling justified in the truth that guilt is a poor motivater for any action, no matter how just or merciful, I did nothing. As I read in John chapter 1 that day about how the eternal Word, through whom everything that we can sense, became a part of his creation, I was moved by the humility of Jesus. As I meditated on the fact that he is in me, and I am in him, I realized that my previous action didn't make any sense. I don't live according to a standard where I should do certain things to be better. Christ lives in me, and his character is such that he humbles himself. If he is one who humbles himself for the sake of others, then I must out of my very nature do everything in my power to feed the hungry, give drink to the thirsty, and clothe the naked. It's not some sort of test I need to pass. I don't play that game any more. Jesus passed the test and took up residence in my heart. It is out of this new nature that the born again have no choice but to forgive.

This is why the Bible says that unless we forgive then we will not be forgiven. It's not that we have to pass the test to get the reward, but that those who know they have the reward cannot help but get the right answer on the test.

That being said often times to forgive is painfully hard and rubs against our pride in such a way that repulses us. Not just our pride either. Often times we have suffered grievously at the hands of people who screwed up either intentionally or unintentionally. I've been reading A Grace Disguised by Jerry Sittser. In the book Sittser describes his journey through the loss of his mother, wife, and daughter after a single car accident caused by a drunk driver. Through a less than stellar prosecution the driver is let off the hook. Sittser describes how he wrestled with the fact that justice was not served. That the drunk driver did not in some way feel pain equal to that which he had caused. After describing the struggle in his heart and the difference between healthy grieving and unforgiveness Sittser remarks that victims must acknowledge that they cannot change the past, there is no going back, but there can be moving forward. He says that "though forgiveness seems to contradict what's right and fair, forgiving people decide that they would rather live in a merciful universe than a fair one, for their sake as much as anyone elses." This is not easy, but ultimately it leads to freedom. If we choose not to forgive, then we are bound to our bitterness which eats at our souls and makes the world we live more mean than merciful. Ultimately though I would argue, and I believe Sittser would agree that forgiveness is only possible if God forgives us first.

Often times when we resist forgiveness it is because we desire for the wrongdoer to come to us and ask for it. We believe we don't owe them anything, so why should we? As I mentioned before we don't act on shoulds, but rather out of our regenerated nature. So besides the fact that that's not a good question to ask, forgiveness is a good idea, because it offers freedom for us from hate and bitterness. Also if forgiveness flows out of our nature because it flows out of God's nature then the let us consider the nature of God's forgiveness. God did not wait for us to come to him, in fact I would argue that such an action on our part was impossible. The model that God has set up is that the responsibility to reconcile lies not with the one who has committed the most fault, but with the one who has the greatest ability. Thus we ought to consider the nature of God which reached out to us and forgave, and reconciled us to himself. If then, we are new creations, we must reach out to those who have sinned against us also, even before they come and apologize or seek for the relationship to be restored. If we do this, then we prove ourselves to be children of our Father.

love.
will

And death shall have no dominion...

2008-10-07T15:00:00.000-07:00

And death shall have no dominion.

Dead men naked they shall be one

With the man in the wind and the west moon;

When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,

They shall have stars at elbow and foot;

Though they go mad they shall be sane,

Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;

Though lovers be lost love shall not;

And death shall have no dominion.

Under the windings of the sea

They lying long shall not die windily;

Twisting on racks when sinews give way,

Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;

Faith in their hands shall snap in two,

And the unicorn evils run them through;

Split all ends up they shan't crack;

And death shall have no dominion.

No more may gulls cry at their ears

Or waves break loud on the seashores;

Where blew a flower may a flower no more

Lift its head to the blows of the rain;

Though they be mad and dead as nails,

Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;

Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,

And death shall have no dominion.

-Dylan Thomas (1933)

Retrieved from "http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/And_death_shall_have_no_dominion"

Invictus

2008-10-06T17:42:00.000-07:00

Anti-Meridian finally appeared in my mailbox... best lyric triumphantly sung by Reese Roper:

Hope Unstoppable,
sing the morning sun,
wake up, oh sleeper,
the Daylight has come.

mmmm.... good stuff.

Sunsets

2008-09-30T20:01:00.000-07:00

When sorrow's tide ebs o'er the breach
and sun has set beyond your reach
do not follow sister where it goes
where deep seas and dark nights grow
go instead into the east
where intuition points you least
where night is here and dark with doubt
and paths are fraught with fears throughout.

To tread this way you must be brave
and none is promised to pass unscathed
all face weakness, loss, and grief.
Here doubts oft arise about relief
and though right now you have no peace
set your face unto the east.

Follow the stars set up on high
and when dark clouds conceal them from your eye
the One who loves will be your guide.
For He has never left your side.
For when sun set upon his day
and all who loved him went away
He chased no sun, he did not run
Oh Sister, we have such a one
who when the world did love him least
set his face unto the east.

So walk where he has gone before
Let your hope to flee no more
and fear not all that lies in store.
Just as the sun once did descend
night must also come to end.
Press on, dear sister do not now cease
For dawn will break upon the east!

The Cross

2008-09-30T19:40:00.001-07:00

I am reminded today of God's faithfulness to provide for all his children. He is serious about providing for all of our needs. Especially for our deepest need, which he provided for in the cross of Jesus Christ. I do not know that I will ever know the depth of my need for the cross, but today I am keenly aware that I do indeed need it take away my guilt and sin. It is a humiliating thing to realize that this is love, not that I ever offered anything to my God, but that he bled, hung on two pieces of wood, and died in the sight of scoffing men whom he created with his thoughts. It is these men for whom he now has loving thoughts towards and, if they will come and humble themselves to accept his death, he will exalt them to be with himself where he is now raised.

"On a hill far away stood an old rugged cross,
The emblem of suffering and shame;
And I love that old cross where the dearest and best
For a world of lost sinners was slain.

O that old rugged cross, so despised by the world,
Has a wondrous attraction for me;
For the dear Lamb of God left His glory above
To bear it to dark Calvary.

Refrain

So I’ll cherish the old rugged cross,
With its light cast upon this dark way
I will cling to the old rugged cross,
As it leads me to glory one day

In that old rugged cross, stained with blood so divine,
A wondrous beauty I see,
For ’twas on that old cross Jesus suffered and died,
To pardon and sanctify me.

Refrain

To the old rugged cross I will ever be true;
Its shame and reproach gladly bear;
Then He’ll call me some day to my home far away,
Where His glory forever I’ll share."

When you know not what else to do, then sing...

2008-09-23T19:36:00.000-07:00

Who is a God like you?

I am utterly struck by the beauty of the gospel... It is not a gospel of words, but of actions. Not a gospel of understanding but one of intense mystery. It is the gospel of a king and judge who unrelinquishingly shows compassion and favor to those who have never done a good thing. It is a gospel of passion, of life, and of bloody death. It is the gospel of how the eternal unchanging binds himself for the sake of love to die the death of the frail for the sake of their treason against himself. It is totally incomprehensible and senseless and yet majestic, perfect, glorious. It is precious and scandalous. It costs us everything and nothing to believe. We need but come, but we must come.

"God has consigned all to disobedience that he may mercy on all. O the depth of the riches and wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments and how inscrutable his ways! For who has known the mind of the Lord, or who has been his counselor? Or who has given a gift to him that he might be repaid? For from him and through him and to him are all things. To him be glory forever. Amen."

I love this...

2008-09-17T22:17:00.000-07:00

This is probably the funniest thing I've seen this week.

What I want my life to be about...

2008-09-17T13:14:00.000-07:00

Found at http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RvDDc5RB6FQ

Anti-Meridian

2008-09-16T08:36:00.000-07:00

Brave Saint Saturn's new album comes out today. Their last one, The Light of Things Hoped For is one of my favorite albums of all time. I really like what I hear of the new album, check it out at bravesaintsaturn.com

Long long way...

2008-09-15T18:07:00.000-07:00

It happened slowly
Feet falling hard on the pavement
Eyes reaching into the distance
Towards empty sunsets

-Danny Stephens of Smalltown Poets

Such is the way of things...

Dear Jesus...

2008-09-15T13:35:00.000-07:00

To the self proclaimed "Son of God,"

While we really are deeply appreciative of your offer to come and help us, we find that we have other more pressing needs at the moment. We would also like to communicate our deep dissatisfaction in your failure to provide for our needs. Sir, all we ask for is someone who will take care of us. We were mislead when you seemed to be able to feed five thousand of us, that you might be a worthy leader. We have since been convinced that your rule would be, to put it lightly, most offensive to some of our more reasonable sensibilities. We therefore respectfully decline your invitation to follow you. We are open to negotiations however if you would like to continue to discuss the possibility of working with us.

Best wishes,
Will Rearick
on behalf of
The People of the World

Earlier this summer I was reading the Bible in the book of John. I was reading that part where Jesus feeds 5000 people. They were all like trying to track him down and make him king, so he says (knowing it's not his time) that they only like him because he feeds them, but unless they eat his flesh and drink his blood then they can have no fellowship with him. The result? They get pissed off and leave. The lesson I learned is that we as people have a list of things we would like in a king. In ancient Judea being able to feed a lot of people was pretty high on the list. It's not that Jesus doesn't want to feed us. In fact the opposite is true. He desires us to be fed with the things that will satisfy our deepest hungers and thirsts. The question is then will we believe that he knows what those hungers and thirsts are, and that he knows the timeline on which he needs to work in order to meet them. The other day I was talking with God about some of the waiting he's been making me do in life. I still don't understand the reasons his timing cannot match mine in meeting my hungers and thirsts. I was deeply convicted yesterday in church as we sang the hymn "Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus." On the chorus over and over again I couldn't fight back the tears as the congregation sang

Jesus, Jesus how I trust him.
How I've proved him o'er and o'er
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus
O for grace to trust him more.

I realized that time and again, especially most recently, that even the feeblest of my trust has been deeply rewarded, and yet my trust still seems so feeble. I desperately need grace to trust him more.

Trust in essence I suppose is like faith, which always works itself out in obedience. When we obey we move from trusting in our own efforts and reasoning to trusting in the one who's authority we are under. When Jesus invites us into his yoke, he invites us into his work, into obedience. But in the act of yolking ourselves to him, there is a trust that indeed his yolk is easy and the burden is light.

Today I choose to believe. I choose to trust that the yolk is easy and to place myself in a position where I have no choice but to let myself be guided by Christ. I choose to believe that God is the provider and has provided for all my needs in Christ Jesus even though I still feel my need. Today I choose to believe that though my flesh and my heart may fail, God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

"This grace gives me fear, and this grace draws me near
And all that it asks it provides"

Here I am...

2008-09-03T15:59:00.001-07:00

I think that there's something wildly appealing about taking my thoughts and throwing them out there into cyberspace and letting them drift about until some hapless reader stumbles upon them then, who knows what happens next...