Category: Christianity

Belief, Bible, Christian Mysticism, Christianity, Connection, Faith, Giving, Goodness, Grace, Gratitude, Love, Meditation, Recovery, Spirituality, Thoughts From the Porch

Ash Wednesday

gregoryjoel

This past Wednesday, Ash Wednesday, marked the start of Lent. According to the Merriam-Webster dictionary, “Lent. noun. ˈlent. : a period of fasting and regret for one’s sins that is observed on the 40 weekdays from Ash Wednesday to Easter by many churches.” It’s a time when Christians are to focus on the Three Pillars of Lent: prayer, fasting, and “almsgiving” – which can best be summed up as compassion. Great things for believers but I grew up in one of the churches that didn’t celebrate Lent, or anything else on the church liturgical calendar for that matter.

When I was exposed to other folks that participated in Lent, I had to look it up to find out what it was. It sounded kind of trite to me. You know, give something up for forty days. That was no big deal. Anyone could do that. Besides, we don’t celebrate those things that aren’t mentioned in the Bible, right?

It wasn’t until I was in college that I began to broaden my theological (and socio-political) horizons. I’m told that rebellion (which is one of the few things I excelled at) was essential for turning one’s religious values from those of one’s parents into one’s that are personal. It was a rather lengthy process for me – forty-nine years and counting – to come to very real, very deep understanding of my relationship to God and my fellows – to make my faith my own.

I no longer attend church regularly. When I do (which is quite infrequently) it’s usually somewhere I’ve been asked to go with friends or the A.M.E. church Ms. Opal attends. I’ve come to believe that my real church lives in recovery rooms, many places of worship, and in nature, especially the farm. It’s where I can get centered and act compassionately on a daily basis – serving others and the common good. That’s what Jesus meant by loving God and loving your neighbor as yourself.

Photo by Pro Church Media on Unsplash

Though I don’t attend regularly I’ve come to celebrate the liturgical calendar far more than I ever did. I celebrate Advent, Christmas, Easter, and an awareness of others, but honestly, I’ve never got the Lent thing down. Those three pillars they talk about are things I try to incorporate into my daily life (well, not so much the fasting…). However, I do read Lenten devotionals to start my day during this time. I read one recently that gave me a new perspective on Lent.

It was a sermon by one of my favorite authors and pastors, Diane Butler Bass. She talked about “practicing the cross”. Practicing the resurrection is what Easter’s always meant to me, but practicing the cross – living prayer, fasting, and compassion – was the way of Jesus on his journey to the crucifixion. “Practicing” was a way of becoming more centered, more loving, and more like the Rabbi I try to follow.

I can get with that, and forty days of intense practice makes it more likely I can become more of the human being I want to be.

“By practicing our faith, we actually become all the things we promise to be in our baptism vows, we become citizens of the Kingdom of God, the radical followers who embody the beloved community that Jesus proclaimed.” – Diane Butler Bass

This year, Lent takes on a new meaning for me, starting with Ash Wednesday – a reminder that I too, will return to the ashes and dust God made this human body out of. It reminds me that the values I practice through daily prayer and meditation will translate to right action that has positive effects on the world I presently walk in. It also reminds me that I haven’t reached a goal, an end point. I still need to practice, and I will make a lot of mistakes. Then I just practice some more…

“When you practice some kind of appetite-denying discipline to better concentrate on God, don’t make a production out of it. It might turn you into a small-time celebrity, but it won’t make you a saint. If you “go into training” inwardly, act normal outwardly. Shampoo and comb your hair, brush your teeth, wash your face. God doesn’t require attention-getting devices. He won’t overlook what you’re doing; he’ll reward you well. Don’t hoard treasure down here where it gets eaten by moths and corroded by rust or – even worse – stolen by burglars. Stockpile treasures in heaven, where it’s safe from moths and rust and burglars. It’s obvious, isn’t it? The place where your treasure is, is the place you will most want to be, and end up being there.” Matthew 6:16-21 (The Message)

Christianity, Community, Culture, Emotional Health, Faith, Humility, Jesus, Marginalized, Opal's Farm, Prayer, Responsibility, Revival, Seeing Others, Service to Others, Songs, Songwriters, Spirituality, Thoughts From the Porch, What Can I Do

Too Late to be a Good Samaritan

gregoryjoel

Fall is normally my time for self-introspection. North Texas summers usually keep that habit away – one can only think of finding air conditioning! It’s been above one hundred degrees for most of the summer with constant excessive heat warnings. Nights have stayed above eighty degrees since the first week of July so there’s little relief when evening comes. Most of North Texas is in severe drought. I suspect the media is right when they refer to this as the “new normal”. The sad thing is that everyone seems to accept it and do little to mitigate the problem, but that’s another blog post…

Back to reflection…

It was 111 degrees according to my truck thermometer when I left the farm. I cranked the air conditioning and headed to the house for a Zoom meeting. It was a brief hour break on a hot summer day to enjoy the AC, grab a snack, and change out of sweat-soaked clothes. I headed towards the turn to Interstate Thirty and there he was – lying next to the entrance ramp – sun beating down on him a mere three feet from the shade of an overpass. He was on his back and his arms outstretched slightly to the sky above. He was in the direct sunlight with shade only a couple of feet away. It was obvious he wasn’t merely sleeping. He was dead. His arms were stiff, rigor mortis had set in, and his body bloated from the afternoon sun.

One officer from the Fort Worth police came followed by the Tarrant County Medical Examiner’s van. I stayed long enough to give a statement and notice all the cars going by. How long had he been there, and no one noticed, or cared enough, to stop and call 911? I remembered the parable of the Good Samaritan. I guess I wouldn’t qualify here. I didn’t get here soon enough. I wondered what I would’ve done if I did…

The crime scene tape was never put up, no investigation made, and the ME loaded the body to take back to the morgue. The whole affair was over in about thirty minutes. The police seemed put out that the ME was taking so long. Just another homeless guy. No signs of violent trauma so time to get on to more important things like the comfort of air-conditioned squad car.

The scene has been seared on my brain ever since. I can’t help but wonder who the man was – what was his name, where was his family? Few people are totally alone in this world although many feel that way. He was somebody’s son, maybe a father, or maybe a brother. Would they find his family and report his death? Would he be missed? Would anyone grieve over his passing? Would anyone care? The news came on that evening. No one talked about the passing of another homeless person. I wasn’t surprised. Anonymous dead homeless guys simply aren’t newsworthy.

The farm is close to the night shelter and Union Gospel Mission. The city has worked hard to isolate the homeless (or more PC – “unhoused”) population to the “mission district”. Still, there’s far more homeless people than there are beds. Around the bend in the river there are several acres of thickets between the old drive-in and Gateway Park. There you’ll find several homeless camps and their number is growing every year. If you look closely, you find camps all around the city – under bridges, wooded areas, abandoned houses. The Tarrant County Homeless Coalition reported that “more than 5,000 households experienced homelessness throughout 2022 in Tarrant County” (Fort Worth Star- Telegram, February 13th, 2023).

We often have some homeless folks who make their way along Trinity Trail above the farm. They will occasionally ask for a bottle of water or rest in the shade of the farm’s only tree. Sometimes they carry on loud, and sometimes angry conversations with people unseen by us. Mental illness accounts for a significant portion of the homeless population. Panhandlers covered all the main intersections from the freeway to the farm. It’s easy to look past them; to avoid eye contact and hope the stoplight changes before they approach the car. I know. I’m guilty at times.

I’ve been praying about that a lot the last couple of weeks. I’ve been in their shoes and yet I forget all about them when my life got back on track. Suddenly, I’m too busy “doing good things with the farm” to notice them, to really see them, or to have a kind word. I become the priest or the Levite in Jesus’ tale of the Good Samaritan. It’s not that I don’t care. I’m just in too big of a hurry and don’t want to have any distractions from the day ahead. I have important things to do – at least in my own mind – and I fail to see Jesus right in front of me (see Matthew Chapter 25…?). Nothing is too important to not to see and acknowledge the divine in each of God’s kids.

Joan Osborne recorded a song in 1995 that resonates with me today especially. It reminds me that I can see God everywhere. He might even be panhandling on the street corner.

Christianity, Common Courtesy, Communication, Community, Courage, Faith, Grace, History, Humility, Opal's Farm, Quotes, Relationships, Role Models, Spirituality, Stories, Thoughts From the Porch, What Can I Do

Snakes in the Grass

gregoryjoel

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day everyone! Saint Patrick died on this day in 461 A.D. and became the patron Saint of Ireland for his missionary work in Ireland. Following his death, many legends and myths grew around his evangelical work among the Druid population of the island. It is said that the four-leaf clover was how he taught the Trinity to the locals and thus became a part of the lore around Saint Patrick.

All I was taught in school was that Saint Patrick was responsible for driving all the snakes out of Ireland. I was quite disappointed when I learned there were never snakes in Ireland to begin with. However, the snake represented the devil and all kinds of evil. Metaphorically, he drove the “snakes”, the Druids and paganism, from Ireland. That makes sense except that there are “snakes” in Ireland just like everywhere else in the world. That’s unfortunate but true…

Saint Patrick lived a difficult life as a Christian. He suffered enslavement to a Druid warlord and later escaped back to his beloved Britain but chose willingly to return to Ireland to spread the gospel. There he was threatened with death, survived several assassination attempts, more enslavement, and continued ridicule and harassment. Still, he chose to remain and be faithful to his spiritual calling.

I often wonder how he could have continued in the face of such resistance – how he could have continued to be kind to his enemies. I’ve been thinking a lot about kindness and what it means to truly be kind. It’s difficult in the best of times but even more so when faced with the current political climate, deep divisions, Christian nationalism and yes, road rage (I’m talking about myself). I strive to live kindly towards all, but I often fall woefully short. What does it mean to be kind to even my “enemies”?

I’ve spent many hours researching what kindness is all about and how to exercise kindness (not “niceness” which is a whole other story…) in my life. I found this little gem in today’s reading:

“No matter how misguided some opinions may be, I do not have to be the purveyor and filterer of all the truth in the world, and sometimes my inside voice needs to stay right where it is: inside”

– Bruce Reyes-Chow, “In Defense of Kindness – Why It Matters, How It Changes Our Lives, and How It Can Save the World”

It dawned on me that the majority of the problems in my life are the result of speaking aloud what should remain as my inside voice. I tend to be an open book. While vulnerability and real communication is something we all could use more of, striking the balance between our “inside” and “outside” voice is something I struggle with.

I have to leave for the farm in a bit so I’m asking God to help me watch the inside voice today. If you struggle with your inside voice coming out at some inappropriate times I’d love to hear how you’re learning to keep it inside. I’d love to hear specifics about how you treat those who often make the inside voice go crazy because quite frankly, there’s a lot of snakes out there…

Statue of St Patrick within St James, Milton by Basher Eyre is licensed under CC-BY-SA 2.0