A Clearer Vision

 . . . the fruit of the Spirit is
love
joy
peace
patience
kindness
goodness
faithfulness
gentleness
and self-control.
There is no law (Jewish Law) against such things.

“. . . unless your righteousness exceeds the righteousness of the scribes and Pharisees, you will in NO WAY enter the kingdom of heaven."

. . . .

Not that I have already attained or have already been perfected, but I follow after it so that I may lay hold of that for which I was seized by Christ Jesus. 

I do not count myself to have attained, but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, 

I press toward the goal to the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.

living water

I am made in the image of God, not your image of God.

Jesus was in the temple. He had just been baptized. He had just witnessed the evidence of the Holy Spirit falling upon him and returned to his home state, and in that journey, in that place where he found himself, went to the synagogue on Sabbath just as was his custom.

And the scriptures were handed to him.

It says that the scriptures of the Prophet Isaiah was handed to him, and just in the fashion of Jewish ceremony, he would open the scroll. He found the place where the prophet Isaiah had spoken centuries, decades before, words that they had heard over and over again in the litrugical experience of the synagogue.

It was that Sabbath in which this particular scripture would be read.

He opened the scroll and he found the place where the Prophet Isaiah said I have been annointed by the Spirit to bring Good News.

Annointed by the Spirit to bring Good News!

I could just stop right there!

Good News!

Why is it that we people of faith get so afraid of Good News?

Why is it we get so afraid of this sense of freedom and liberty that God gives to us, that so often in church we don't preach Good News. We tell people how bad they are.

Jesus said the Spirit of the Sovereign God is upon me to bring Good News.

I want people of God in this particular congregation this morning to leave this place this morning feeling better about themselves than when they first came into this church today.

That is a cool thing our Senior Pastor shared.

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An Extraordinary Adventure

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Weary - Wounded - Battered - Scorned - (Jesus wept) - Self-righteous - PuffedUp - Merciless - (Jesus wept) - Hypocrisy - (Jesus wept) - Despair - (Jesus wept) - Hatred - (Jesus wept). They killed him - using law and holy books and lies and decieit and religion to confound the weak-kneed and the confused and appease the blood-thirsty - they whipped him - they mocked him - they hanged him - they nailed him to a wooden cross - they watched him suffer and debated it. He wept. My Jesus did. But he rose from that death. Transcended it all - yes - traded it all for a completely different gift of life. M-hm! Bigger than all that! How big?

Welcome to phenomenal life-thriving strategies delivered from the lean side of the mountain and embraced by many on this wondrous journey of life and learning - the continuation of our Extraordinary Adventure series.

"How do we cultivate young people who have the idealism, and the ambition, and the drive, and the passion to start their own journey to bring about meaningful and positive social change?"

You are altogether beautiful, my love;
    there is no flaw in you.

King Solomon

Do you have a clearly defined vision?
What practicing values do you support it with?

"I am the door. If anyone enters through Me, that one will be saved and will go in and out and find pasture.   The thief does not come, except to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life, and that they may have it more abundantly." Jesus, Son of Man, Prince of Glory, Redeemer.

Who made the mountains? Who made the trees? Who made the rivers flow to the sea? Who sends the rain when the earth is dry? Who made the flowers to bloom in the spring? Who made the song for the robins to sing? Who hung the moon in the starry sky? Yes, all that and way much more! Our mind. Our body. Our spirit. Our soul.

What stereotype has you bound?

Phenomenal Life Strategies

Life Strategy # 4: "Dare to Fly."

Phenomenal life-affirming, life-thriving, life-uplifting strategies are being delivered by Our Lord Jesus on the lean side of the mountain. It's a new life.

Action Plan: Dare To Fly. "Let go of the rails, rise above the struggle, flap your wings." Jesus gets personal with me again, whispering yet another awesome divine revelation: you are much better than that! (What about you?) Clearly define the vision of where you want to be. Support it with sustainable values that are the essence of who you are and to whom or what you belong.

Rejoice! Be Glad!
Supportable Sustainable Values.
These are the wings for your flight.

Welcome to my 'inter-personal' share!

"I prefer to be true to myself, even at the hazard of incurring the ridicule of others, rather than to be false, and to incur my own abhorrence." Frederick Douglas

The illiterate of our century are less and less those who cannot read and write, more and more those unable to unlearn the learned crap which never worked or no longer works, unable to re-learn and keep on re-learning life's grandest truths unfolding through the wonders of timeliness, authenticity, freedom and revelation, and are yet to discover that exercising a smart change of mind is called growth.

Time to let go of the rails.

Ever so often we come face up to the limitations of our language. The words we've devised to capture our experience to tell our stories are not adequate to the task. They do not live out the totality of the outgrowths of our heart and soul and spirit. And our gut refuses to be denied. Like a geyser out from our wellspring truth gushes up: that is poetry. It speaks heart to heart, soul to soul, spirit to spirit, from any of either to all. It is a language deeper and denser than the sum total of the meanings of each word or phrase or their juxtapositions. It refuses to be bounded by the limits of rigorous analyses of its parts; it is much bigger; it is soul speak, it is heart talk, it is spirit form. It is divine. The mind alone cannot comprehend it, for it is poetry - a rhythm.

Some bang their heads against it, like a rock!

Spare the bleeding.

Breathe.

Life itself is story and the richest part of that story is pure poetry. A rhythm.

Those privileged with the transmission of scriptures (of whichever design) through epochs have called upon histories and stories and poetry to reveal realities of time and timelessness.

The bible, considered by a wide swath of humanity to be the most influential book of our times, is such a transmission. This bible is in fact a library of diverse books by many different authors wrestling with compelling issues of human struggle through life and death. It seeks to tell one unified story. It is presented in many different forms by way of epic narratives and sophisticated poetry. It is genius. It is spectacular. It is sacred. It is holy. And yet its impact on humanity is that and everything but.

Strangely - the genius of it - this bible predicts that 'everyhting but' plot twist of its story. We'll come to some of that later, but no one needs to wait 'til then, we can examine it for ourselves as soon and as often as we please. Just don't bang your head against it, like a rock. Spare the bleeding. Breathe. Let's not confuse narrative history with narrative story nor either with epic poetry. If we do we will miss the truth. We will suffer ourselves uselessly.

Your story is probably there too - spectacularly revealed - (mine too) - richest in our private honesty. A good thing to realize, I think, during our discovery is this: your story is YOUR STORY. Uniquely!!! It is, as to one as it is to another, one's own breath of life. Breathe yours. Deeply. Let's let every other breathe theirs. Freely. In its wholeness it brings us joy. That's my finding. That's my recommendation. I am human too.

Here, at the lean side of the mountain, I hear a whisper, a sweet awakening along my journey. It stirs up a wee-bit of a recent memory I'd like to share. It is the story of a security blanket, but I might just as well entitle it, When A Child Dared To Fly and A Father Did!

To that end, and as a backdrop to this cool memory, let me stir your mind with two realities I hope are familiar to you.

1. A biblical story: Twelve Spies with Odd Eyes
2. A non-biblical story: A Jesus many know that never was!

May I?

Breathe. Experience your breath.

Let this next video set the stage for us.

It is easy to confuse timeliness with timelessness, isn't it? Our times have muddied those two waters. Nevertheless, clear streams can still be seen and that much clearer while in flight. There is a rhythm to timeliness; it brings balance. There is a richness to timelessness; it adds value.

Twelve Spies with Odd Eyes

You might have heard the story told in the Book of Numbers, Chapters 13 & 14. Some call it the story of Joshua and Caleb. Some call it the Story of Twelve Spies. Some might even want to call it The Origins of Fake News, Episode 12.

None of the mentioned titles capture the fullness and brightness of this story. And I won't tell this story either.

Why should I when we can check it for ourselves - the original story, that is - within its context, that is - the full richness of it - please - undiluted in translation. It is recorded in the Book of Numbers.

But I'll say this about it. Twelve men from twelve tribes were sent to spy and report back their findings. Those men are as follows:

1. Shammua son of Zaccur, from the tribe of Reuben
2. Shaphat son of Hori, from the tribe of Simeon
3. Caleb son of Jephunneh, from the tribe of Judah
4. Igal son of Joseph, from the tribe of Issachar
5. Hoshea (Joshua) son of Nun, from the tribe of Ephraim
6. Palti son of Raphu, from the tribe of Benjamin
7. Gaddiel son of Sodi, from the tribe of Zebulin
8. Gaddi son of Susi, from the tribe of Manasseh
9. Ammiel son of Gemalli, from the tribe of Dan
10. Sethur son of Michael, from the tribe of Asher
11. Nahbi son of Vophsi, from the tribe of Naphtali
12. Geuel son of Maki, from the tribe of Gad

Go! Check out that story then return. We will hold your place in line.

Go.

What do you think?

Hmm? Lots upon lots to chew on, would you say? Who amongst us is open to the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth? Or was that famous actor surprisingly prophetic in his proclamation: You Can't Handle The Truth!

What truth are we even talking about? Will your report and mine of this story equate to the truth?

A Jesus That Never Was

Oh, I love to tell the story of unseen things above, of Jesus and his glory, of Jesus and his love. I really do. If you can only see me now; I am sparkling. I really am!

In fact I borrowed those lines from an old hymn that fills me with rich sweet memories. And wouldn't you know it, here is someone else singing the very song. You probably know it too. Sing along. Enjoy. Gush.

May I tell a little secret? I read about the Jesus I love before I was aware of any preacher's version of some other Jesus. Yep! Or any of all those hell-raiser versions of Jesus? Oh dear! How I love my Jesus. Just sayin'!

May I tell another secret (in granny-mama mode)?

For a very long time ( in the wonder of my joys ) I wasn't even aware another Jesus was and is quite popular from pulpits and through our radio waves and fiber waves and, OMG, practically everywhere residing in minds of some of the most wonderful people I know. You see, yep, I know better now: it is important to listen. And, yep, I stopped singing and started listening. That is the sad part. Oh, dear me! But don't jump ahead of my story; I ain't ever let anybody confuse me about my Jesus for too long. Nah-nah-nah-nah-nah! Too sweet. We click. But I did allow myself to learn a whole lot about, well you know, whoever that other guy is!

There is probably no need for me to tell anyone about the other Jesus that never was, who so many know so well; I am supposing we're all probably quite familiar with him. No?

Well, I still keep hearing about him. Oooh-wee; he is quite a character! Maybe that is why when I was a boy that priest did not fancy the idea of me picking up that Huge Book and reading it on my own. But I was already reading it on my own. Oops. Just mine was the one me mama used to read. Shhhhh!

You see, I am enamored by the real story as originally told of Jesus' birth - about where, and about the circumstances and conditions, about Mary and Joseph, and so much more, as variously recorded in the bible. I may not be all that bright, and even though I was not there, that story is as real and easily understandable to me as, well, take your pick, and as fascinating and stomach churning as it is heart-warming for a person of my birth and upbringing. But for sure my baby Jesus's story does not match up to a certain set of off-repeated values-that-don't-add-up, the which an awful lot of 'politicals' and 'propagandists' are stuck on promoting and are fighting tooth-and-nail over in the name of some god!

Nope mine doesn't.

The more popularized, revisionalized, birther version of a Jesus out there - nope - that's not my Jesus. You can have that one.

You see, I am moved by the real story as originally told of the boy Jesus I love and hang with; he makes loads of sense to me. No pontifications necessary; I am in love. You can keep your super hero.

I can't even start talking about that three-year stint of my Jesus! Oh, hold me back, hold me back, hold me back. His values! They make sense to me. Not complicated. His vision. I can see it. I don't need night vision goggles and a string of interpreters. Whoever is that other imposter - a'hem - other actor, is quite intriguing, but I know who is with me. Mine doesn't get mad with me if I don't understand something. Mine doesn't throw a tantrum and threaten me, if I am slow discovering some special something. Life is way too short for me to have to deal with a short-fused Jesus. You can keep that one.

And, yes, I know who killed him and how and under what pretense! I'll leave that right there. I'd better stop right here. You see, my Jesus is not hard to spot with eyes wide open. That other guy needs lots of sermons to stick, it seems to me. He is fine and all, mind you. I am just not a fan! He is a security blanket. And I know, some people need a security blanket. If it works! They need messages scribbled on walls. If it works! They need someone available to take the fall. If it works! They need pop-up out-of-context bible verses to keep them on the up-and-up. If it works!

Mine's just plain old awesome. We click!

That is why I am here at the lean side of the mountain listening. And learning to fly. It is time to let go of these rails. I am getting instructions. What about you? Oh, and don't run so fast, I ain't yet say what he is saying to me. It's sweeeet!

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference. _ Robert Frost

Take time (if need be) to discover, hone, and use your gifts. You'll find useful steps (discovery process, action plans) in Riding Moby Dick. Just Click!

Let Go Of The Rails
Dare to Fly

SWOOSH!

"I give them eternal life. They shall never perish, nor shall anyone snatch them from My hand. My Father, who has given them to Me, is greater than all. No one is able to snatch them from My Father’s hand. My Father and I are one." All things are possible. Start with what is just outside your comfort zone. Believe. Act upon it. Step outside and breathe.

WORD TO THE WISE: Dare to fly.

Whenever I am approached by a little child, wherever possible, with his or her parent's or guardian's permission I accept a hug or exchange high-fives. I stoop eye-to-eye with that child and enjoy a short conversation.

Mostly, I listen.

I am frequently amazed at how bright-eyed these children are at that level, and am always delighted at the sheer brilliance of what they say.

Truly!

One poor nanny is 'forced' to stop the trolley whenever she has to travel the route along my way at work, because her boy demands to see his friend, which happens to be me. Somehow I can tell by the way the trolley pulls to a stop that he is on board. He comes rushing ahead of his nanny and through the door wearing the broadest brightest smile. We exchange high-fives. With every bit of enthusiasm imaginable of an energetic five-year-old he tells me his latest story. I give him my undivided attention, no matter how busy I was before his unscheduled arrival. I know I wlll learn something. And his nanny provides the same report, "He insists he must come to see his friend." Each time, at that remark, I smile in acknowledgement of my undeserved privilege and exchange another high-five. I never see a child, I always see a person.

Here and there, a child would correct me. Yes, it is humbling. Last week, a parent introduced her youngest to me. I stooped to inquire the child's age. The child showed me three fingers. I said, "You are three years old." She nodded. Right then her older sister - five years old - tapped me and said, "The word is not tree it is three. She is three years old." I immediately made the correction. Then shooshed aside her mother's quick apology for her daughter's forthrightness, to which I said, "She knows the correct pronunciation and was kind enough to let me know what it is so I won't embarass myself like that again. Besides," I whispered, "my mother used to tell me the same thing; three not tree. I am a slow learner. One day I'll get it right."

Some children travel with their security blankets, I discover. I hadn't known about security blankets growing up, but I am quite familiar with them now. They are not always strictly blankets I have since learned. To my eyes many seem like toys, but not to that child. I am learning that parents know the difference between their child's toy and their child's security blanket, and facilitate them accordingly.

I am learning.

I'd like to share two such security blankets from recent personal encounters.

This one girl is an absolute beauty. Whenever she and her daddy are together, he brings her to see me. But I have to follow her ritual. Before our hug and chat, she extends her security blanket for me to kiss. I must kiss her blanket first. Her daddy explained how very fortunate that is, since not everyone is allowed to touch her security blanket. I did not need an explanation. I don't understand it anyway. It is the gateway to our lengthy conversations. That's all that matters. It is a value. And she is an adorably chatty beauty.

This one boy was a first-timer. He appeared shy. But I smiled and stooped for a hug or a high five. He did not smile. With militaristic precision he shoved his 'security blanket' to me. I thought it was a toy so I took it, thinking his intention to be: have this, get out of my face. I was just about to stand-up and step back, but for his dad's reaction. "You are the first," he said. Just then the boy rushed into hug me. I was confused. I held his son's embrace. "He doesn't allow anyone to touch his security blanket," his dad said with great surprise.

Let me cut to the chase. The boy did not say much - lots of smiles - and he left the 'security blanket' with me. His dad kept saying wow and winked to me to keep it. It seemed a door was now opened to his kid. And that dad was eager to keep it opened.

I share this to cut to a different chase. It seems to me that for many (and I must emphasize it is merely an appearance to me, not a judgment) that for some well-intentioned folk certain habits, beliefs, and understandings, particularly here in regard to hostility and offensive behaviours toward fellow human beings, defending such actions and habits as requirements of holiness and religious freedom, are in the best of scenarios nothing more than security blankets for such individuals. It would be tough to let go of the rails while holding onto such a blanket, and perhaps that explains those other Jesuses - security blankets. No? Meet mine. The real guy.

"Knowledge that takes you not beyond yourself is far worse than ignorance." Elif Shafak.

Something To Consider

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You are

What POWER!