What's in your ark?

“The waters swelled, lifting the ark
until it floated off the ground…”  -Genesis 7:17b

The ark floated off the ground.  It rose up –and then, as the waters rose, swelling, it floated away.  The ark is what survives the flood. The ark and all that is in it. So, what we put in the ark is very important.  And I am pondering now… what have I put in my ark?

Think back to the original story. What did God have Noah put in his ark? Two of every living thing, male and female.  All life. All living things. Basically, God told Noah to value life; every living thing, from the wisest owl to the dumbest ox, from the mighty elephant to the lowly mouse, predator and prey—all living things. Life itself. Put it in your ark! Protect it. Value it. And when the flood waters came and the ark floated of the ground, that was what was saved. Life itself, that was what was in Noah’s ark.  What is in your ark?  That’s what I am asking myself these days. Like that commercial—What’s in your wallet?

What’s in your ark?  I think that is a question I couldn’t have imagined before this flood. Without the surreal experience of the past few days, I wouldn’t have realized the importance of this very basic, very essential question.

Yesterday we went back to Carol’s house (my mother-in-law).  We wanted to see if the water had gone down and we could get into her house and salvage a few things. Instead we learned that the water had risen. The knee-deep water from Sunday was now perhaps waist or even chest deep in places. And, while he was checking our ID, the policeman who was there told us to be careful. An alligator had been spotted in the water on one of the streets.  So, instead of going into her house we stood around –about ½ a mile away—just staring at the vastness of the water and thinking about all the things we should have got out of the house on Sunday morning –when we still had the chance.  And astonished that this is what our world had come to –the flood waters rose, they swelled, and there was nothing we could do about it…

But standing there, we were approached by a City of Houston worker who had just been talking to another woman. He came over to us and asked us where our house was.  Lynne explained to him she was hoping to get into her mother’s house but it was too deep. He asked for the address and she told him and he handed her his phone. He said there were pictures on it of all the houses on the flooded streets.  He told her she could look through the pictures and send any that were helpful to herself. At least you’ll have that for insurance purposes, he said. He showed her how to navigate through the pictures and how to select them and send one to herself. Then he left his phone with her and walked away to check on someone else.  When she finally found a picture, it was frightening. The water looked like it was over halfway up the front wall of the house. Maybe 5 feet deep.

As we stood there, a few other neighbors were gathering nearby and staring at the water with us and another man and his small boy came over and asked if any of us wanted to borrow his canoe and go in and take pictures of our houses.  He said someone else had just borrowed it, but when that person got back we could take a turn.  His little boy, maybe 8 years old, offered to go for us if we didn’t know how to paddle a canoe.  

Think about that: all over Houston in small and great and even heroic ways people are offering help, even putting their own lives at risk to help one another.

“The flood waters swelled, lifting the ark until it floated…”

What are you you putting in your ark?

The other side of this is: as we drove up to try and check on my mother-in-law’s house, the policeman was there at the barricade checking IDs. Certainly, he might have been there to make sure no one accidentally drove into the waters; protecting us from our own foolishness. Wen he told us about the alligator we laughed.  He didn’t.  I suspect, more than anything, he was there to protect the almost abandoned neighborhood from looters.  The news keeps warning us about looters and scammers who are coming to these troubled places to take advantage of a horrible situation.

“The flood waters swelled, and the ark floated off the ground…”

When the flood waters swell, your ark will begin to float… what will be in it?

There is another ark in the Bible. The one that Moses builds. In the days of Noah and the flood, God tells Noah to place all living things in it.  In the days of the Exodus, He had Moses build another Ark as a dwelling place for His own presence among His people. Put the thing you value most in the ark. Life. God… What do you value most?

In both places God gives pretty detailed directions for the ark’s construction; He is clearly concerned with the making of the Ark. But I think that may be because He is even more concerned with what we put inside it.  And because He knows that the floodwaters are coming. They always do.  And God knows that whatever we put in that ark, that is what will survive the flood.   That is what will begin to float when the flood waters swell.  What are you putting in your ark?  Yesterday my wife gave the keys to one of our cars to a friend who had to be rescued in the middle of the night from her flooding house.   And before that she learned that a neighbor needed formula her baby and we were off to the store.  What will survive your flood? Faith, love, generosity, kindness, compassion, courage, a reassuring smile? or will it be: selfishness, greed, cunning and hate?   In Houston, mostly we have seen only the good –but in places, sadly, we have seen all of these floating in the flood waters around us.

Like the commercial asks: What’s in your ark?

A devouring fire --The glory of the Lord on the mountain

“To the watching Israelites, the glory of the Lord looked like a
devouring fire on the mountain top. Moses went right into
the cloud and on up the mountain. Moses stayed on the
mountain for forty days and forty nights.” --Exodus 24:17

A devouring fire? What could that mean? And why does the author say that it looked like a devouring fire to those watching? For me, I hear in this at least two meanings that speak to my life. First, there is the fact that “the glory of the Lord” may look to the world like a devouring fire, and our desire to walk toward it may look like foolishness to some and the sight of it may be a fearful stumbling block to others (cf. 1 Corinthians 1:23). The glory of the Lord is not for the faint hearted, one might say. But, if we pay attention to the context of this part of Exodus we know that what looks like a “devouring fire” to the watching Israelites, is --in actuality-- the glory of God. And Moses is not harmed by it. Not a hair of his head.

But, on the other hand, the glory of God truly is –I’m certain-- a devouring fire, though one we should not fear, but should rejoice in. As St. Peter tells us in his first letter, “In this you may rejoice, though, for a time, you must bear all sorts of trials; so that the worth of your faith, more precious than gold, which perishes even if it has been tested by fire, may be proven…” (cf. 1 Peter 1:7).

So what is being devoured when we walk into the glory of the Lord? Into God’s devouring fire? I suspect it is our ego, our pride, our sin –the dross that clings to us. For me, it is –it must be—the “I wants,” that still cling to me and that I too often cling to and clutch at so desperately. I want to be successful. I want to be honored. I want to be loved. I want to be comfortable. I want to be prosperous. I want to be free of sickness. I want a Beck’s Prime veggie burger and a ½ pound of fries with a large Vanilla malted! And a bag of popcorn and a root beer and a new pair of sneakers and cats that don’t tear up the house and a car that never needs repairs and…. And one of those drinks with the little pink umbrellas… and that paddle ball thing, too. I want that, too!

And yet, still, I wonder: what is the devouring fire in my own life? Is it the difficulties I’ve had at work? Loss of autonomy? Changes that feel like trials? Or is it my loss of the diaconate? The humbling trial of being told I wasn’t called to this vocation that I had begun to identify with so intimately… I felt devoured after the meeting when I was told I was being dropped from the program. I felt devoured and spit out. And for almost two years now I have had to humble myself and accept it, and try to hold onto my faith, my love of God, my commitment to His church and to do His will. And it has been hard. It has been painful. It has felt –at times—quite fearful and quite foolish. I have been asked, why I don’t just change religions or join another church? Why don’t I become a Methodist (for instance) and then I can be a minister and have my own church –if I want! And yet, I have remained. I have remained where God has lead me and I wait upon the Lord. I wait within the devouring fire of his glory –trusting that in His glory, I will not be harmed –only tested and made stronger. I am also learning that forty days and forty nights is “God speak” for “this may take a while.”

Ask yourself: what is the devouring fire in your life? Where is God calling you to something hard, to do something painful, something humbling, something that requires you to let go of your wants, your plans, your very self and be more fully dependent on Him? More fully His? Is your devouring fire a troubled relationship that you must humble yourself to mend? Is it a difficulty at work that requires you to let go of some power or some position you worked hard to achieve? Is it a longing for popularity or glory that you can’t let go of? Is there a hurt you must let go of? A disappointment? A loss? A loneliness you cannot fathom?

Do not be afraid to enter into the glory of the Lord, even though it looks to all the world like a devouring fire; as the great poet Jane Kenyon once wrote: God does not leave us comfortless… Whether God calls you up the mountain, or He calls you to come to Him walking on the water –accept His invitation. Go to Him. Do not be afraid. God is waiting; in what looks like a devouring fire, He is waiting just for you.

All I have is what I need -some thoughts against Independence

“All I have is what I need…”  --Audrey Assad

I’ve been doing a bit of driving this summer; not to Waxahachie or beautiful downtown Wichita Falls or anything touristy like that –but to HEB, the mall, and appointments, and even once to Miller Outdoor Theater. And as I drive around Houston the CD I have been listening to the most in the car is a Christian pop CD called “Heart” by Audrey Assad.  I think it is quite possibly one of the great pop CDs of all time.  The melodies and rhythms are wonderfully catchy and sometimes quite thrilling, but the songs –the lyrics and the way she sings them—are often so strangely beautiful that they seem transcendent.  Though there doesn’t seem to be a narrative “concept” to the album, the songs do feel organically united and create a beautiful cohesive whole.  It is truly an album to enjoy again and again.

                But there is one phrase that shows up in at least a couple of the songs that has troubled me (in a good way –of course): “all we have is what we need…”  And as I read Genesis, I keep thinking about this phrase.  How applicable it is to the story of God’s love and grace and the story of His people.  And to the story of my own life. As a kind of disclaimer, let me say this: in the context of her song, I think it is quite possible Mrs. Assad is saying something more straightforward than what I am about to describe.  I imagine she means something along the line of –God has given me everything I need, why should I long for more.  But what I hear is: all we really have, any of us, is our need.  And perhaps that is exactly how God intends it.

                Going back to my recent reading of Genesis, look at Abram –called by God to become a blessing to the world—he is lead to a foreign land, separated from his family and home, called to dwell in a place where he lacks the security of all he has known and where he will find himself constantly in need of shelter and food and even a place to lay his head. And then there is Jacob, who seems so clever and wily, yet who –in the end—must submit himself first to the brother he has abused and tricked, then because of a famine to the will of some Egyptian power-broker (who it turns out is the beloved son that he lost so many years before).  Again and again we see in the stories of the people of God that all we really have is our need.  We are called time and again to place not our burnt offerings and incense upon the altar –but to offer God our brokenness and our contrition. We are called time and again to recognize our complete dependence on God; our need for His grace.  That is our greatest gift. And –on some level it is the only thing we have that is truly ours: Our need.  And so we are called to share it with the world. We are called to place our need upon the altar, to offer it to all and to become a blessing to the world.    

It is interesting to me that I am writing this on the 4^th of July: Independence Day. We –as a culture—do not value “need.” We have a little bit of disdain for it. Because need makes you dependent. And that is anathema in the land of independence!  A land where we can define and redefine ourselves any way we like, because we don’t need anybody or anyone’s approval.  We are autonomous and independent and that’s how we like it. And yet is that what God intended? Is that what Christ meant when He said:

Anyone who finds his life will lose it and anyone who loses his life for my sake will find it
–Matthew 10:39

What does it mean to take up your cross and follow Christ? What does it look like? Does it mean Independence? Does it look like self-sufficiency? Or is that the call of God asking us to come and share our brokenness with the world?   Perhaps all I really have is what I need –and that need is a door to salvation –not just for me—but for you as well. We tend to think of a need as a lack or an emptiness, but what if –like the song says—it isn’t a lacking, it is the thing we actually have been given to share with the world. All I have is what I need  --here, I hold it out to you. It is all I have –and I offer it to you.

Thank you, Audrey Assad. Happy “dependence” day to all…