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Led forth in joySunday, April 29, 2018
From Acts 9 Saul hated Jesus and his followers. Perhaps he was there and cheered the soldiers on. But now no more. That old blindness has been broken. "Saul, Saul, why are you persecuting me?" When God speaks, we listen. Saul is thrown from his horse and stopped in his tracks. Jesus' clarion voice rips Saul's certainty into shreds. "Lean not on your own understanding." At last he could hear the words of his childhood, and in them he recollected the humility he was born with. Now, in his new, blessed blindness, Saul could grope toward God instead of tromping stubbornly away from him. "I don't need to see through the clouds of sand, I can't bear to open my eyes in God's luminous presence. This would feel like a dark night, except in the joy of his appearing it's not dark at all. The failing, fainting sound of God grows now into crescendo. Do not be afraid. Even the sound of silence seems written in the language of God. All things are possible. Whatever is true and noble and right, pure and lovely and admirable, whatever is excellent and praiseworthy, it is all rising from this darkness." Now Jesus is leading Saul. Er ... Paul. In the smallest possible part of his conversion, he tweaks his name. But this was a hired killer with poison in his brain and murder on his mind, and new name or not, no one believes him. Well, almost no one. Barnabas, a happy soul, encourager, a believer in the good, believes him. Barnabas, with a round little belly that shakes when he laughs, listens, like Saul, to God. And Barnabas takes charge of Paul. I've had my share of Barnabas's. I know you have too. Thank you to Aunt Mary, and Lyle Read, and Mrs. Smock, and John Gathman, and Kathy Griffin who bailed us out of jail, and Angelina in Berkeley, and Al Schmidt, and Mom, and Margaret, and Dad, and Al Morehead, and Gary Johnson, and well ... this is a wonderfully long list. I am so thankful, so grateful, so filled with the joy of heaven to remember and rest and smile. In the new movie, "Paul: Apostle of Christ," we spend time with Paul at the end of his life. In his conversations with Luke and others, he is thankful. His eyes have softened, his words are quieter, he has walked his own good walk. He has found the time to dig deeply into his memories, to remember Barnabas and so many others, to give thanks, to return the gifts. That is a task we can all relish. Every day, Lord, come rain, come shine, bring your gifts to my remembrance. Let me dwell in your house and savor the honey from your honeycomb. My table is laden with your good things and your better things and above all, your best things. I can never eat it all! In the night you touch my brow and cradle my head in your hand and whisper, "Do not be afraid." And I am not. |