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Truth and consequenceSaturday, January 2, 2010
1 John 2:27-28 I've read many commentaries and listened to thousands of sermons. Seen many movies and read many books. (I'm a little bit historian and collector, so I keep track of them, actually) Met and gotten to know lots of people. Experiences accumulate and shape my thinking. I remember one movie, The Story of the Weeping Camel. A nomadic Mongolian family seeks out a musician to help a camel's mother accept its baby. The music he brought to their dwellings swelled their own hearts. Their simple life offered few choices. Watching, part of me yearns for that kind of life. But I don't choose it. I choose civilized, rational, curious, open-ended-open-minded-seeking after "truth" ... and how much more do I need Jesus' anointing now? The consequence of too often settling for words in the search for truth is that I am separated from the rest of life by those very words. I describe rather than do. Not always, though. I'm learning to listen to Jesus. His words are more than words, his breath on my life more than warm air. I become still inside and sometimes barely breathe. I notice my apple, how juicy it is. The snow divides into sparkles and snowflakes and is nearly infinite. I breathe again, deeply. The ache in my joints fades from awareness, and I notice how free I feel. John continues the letter exhorting his listeners to abandon their self protection and love each other. Jesus washed John's feet. He showed John the joy of bearing another's burdens when he called him Mary's son. These anointings shaped John's life, just as our anointing shapes our lives. So I am grateful for words spoken into my life and for the words I speak into others, because all of this can move us toward Jesus. His direction is all we need. In him all things are true and not false. Jesus hears me, knows me, holds me. When he washes my feet they are truly washed. Water come down from the sky, Lord, water fly and fly and fly. Bake a pot in the sun, Lord, and fill my feet with longing. Choose my path, Lord and lead me to the seat you pick for me before that bowl full of living water warmed by the sun. Oh ... the water. And the long, slow touch of your hands. |