Carly

You’re so vain. You probably think this song is about you. (by vain i mean lame)

 Comment left on Facebook by my 18 year old brother.

God Intoxicated

There was a time when the church was very powerful in the time when the early Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Whenever the early Christians entered a town, the people in power became disturbed and immediately sought to convict the Christians for being “disturbers of the peace” and “outside agitators”‘ But the Christians pressed on, in the conviction that they were “a colony of heaven,” called to obey God rather than man. Small in number, they were big in commitment. They were too God intoxicated to be “astronomically intimidated.” By their effort and example they brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide. and gladiatorial contests. [Source]

My soul drinks this in.  My soul longs for a church that is revolutionary.  That cry is being answered.  Here in Birmingham, at a predominately white church.  From the mouth of a 28 year old pastor who is pouring out cisterns of God’s grace on us.  I have spent my life in churches that have not called their members to social justice and healing.  I have longed for that, and the prayers of many many years are being answered.  I cannot grasp the concept of God caring enough about me to put me in this place.  To give me what I have been given, and to say “Drink up.  This is how it’s supposed to be.  You’ve wanted the right thing all along.”  Our pastor said it perfectly, “The God of the universe knows how to love us each individually.”  This morning, I am amazed.  Praying for the intoxication that comes from being in God’s will.

Apathy

A friend wrote me last night.  She’s in Germany, and just visited a museum at a concentration camp.  She spoke about apathy, and how this visit reminded her again why she should care.  Another friend told the husband about two murders that have gone largely unreported by national media.  Horrific murders.  The kind that makes you cry out, “Oh God, where are you?”  The kind that provoke anger, and in some cases, racism and bitterness. 

I realized that’s what I’ve been struggling with.  I’m trying to find my passion, the exact median between anger and apathy.  For whatever reason, God has put me in a group that tends to be apathetic.  But I see a little spark of hunger in them.  I’m trying to find positive ways of fanning that spark. 

Last night

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt — marvelous error!—
that a spring was breaking
out in my heart.
I said: Along which secret aqueduct,
Oh water, are you coming to me,
water of a new life
that I have never drunk?

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt — marvelous error!—
that I had a beehive
here inside my heart.
And the golden bees
were making white combs
and sweet honey
from my old failures.

Last night, as I was sleeping,
I dreamt — marvelous error!—
that a fiery sun was giving
light inside my heart.
It was fiery because I felt
warmth as from a hearth,
and sun because it gave light
and brought tears to my eyes.

Last night, as I slept,
I dreamt — marvelous error!—
that it was God I had
here inside my heart.

Antonio Machado