His Fingerprints

There is a verse I have never understood in spite of countless mentionings in sermons and Sunday School classes and even hymns. Maybe I have used it myself but I don’t remember doing so. I hope not because it would not have been honest. The verse is found in John 14:26:

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you; not as the world gives, do I give to you. Let not your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful.

My spiritual journey can be characterized by a striving for peace. It seemed my heart was always troubled and I certainly was afraid. Nothing I tried could ever reconcile me to this verse.

First of all there seemed to be two kinds of peace. I only knew of one, the kind the world gave I guess. What kind of peace would transcend circumstance, guilt and embarrassment? I didn’t have a clue. I would just put it aside and study something else.
Then, there were the times I would hear a good intentioned fellow traveler say something like “Jesus is the answer”. In the privacy of my mind I would respond with, “depends on the question” and that would spark a new round of wondering about this peace that passeth understanding (note my King James roots.)

I was driving in New York State this week with Jen, my wife, and I saw again, “Jesus is the Answer” literally carved in the side of large hill. This time was different. Maybe I am beginning to understand. I can now identify two kinds of peace. One is the state of mind I am in when I am not threatened by outside circumstance. I guess that is the peace that the world gives.

The second type is being at peace with yourself. If I am at peace with myself, if I love myself, who can take it away? The trick, then, becomes to identify, and accept yourself. Recent reading has shed some light on this process for me. The first step for me was to realize that brokenness is the proper condition for humanity. I will not condemn myself for being born with a sinful nature and neither will I try to kill that part of me. I have gone that route and it is the root cause for my lack of internal peace. The secret is to accept and love that person with all the flaws, obsessions and addictions. This person isn’t the real me. He is the Imposter in me and he is my greatest enemy but Jesus said to love your enemies. If this is true anywhere it is true here. We must recognize and love ourselves even the Imposter. It is such a relief not to be constantly railing against myself.

This brings up another question who is this other person that was so diligent in criticizing the false self that I present to the world. Where does the strength come from to stand up against and even love this enemy (Sounds like Roman 7 doesn’t it?). You can analyze this until the cows come home and probably not find the answer because the answer is found in commitment not analysis. To know yourself you have to commit to something larger than yourself. I am committed to the cause of Jesus Christ and have found that I am a treasured child of God. This position gives me the ability to look at the Imposter and genuinely love him. When that happens there are two results, the Imposter shrinks and looses control and I am at peace. The kind of peace no one can take away. I guess Jesus is the answer.

I had breakfast and devotions at a local restaurant one Friday morning recently as is my custom. It was one of those good times where the Spirit seems especially close and we are able to commune. After breakfast I went for a walk around the block where my house is located and was still walking and talking with the Lord. Part way around there was a bird on the sidewalk but he didn’t fly when I approached. He just hopped along staying a couple feet ahead of me. He or she I don’t know how to tell with most birds, would look at me take a few hops and stop, then, repeat. I took great pleasure in watching him,

This same kind of thing has happened before during times that I would describe as being ‘in the Spirit’. A few weeks or days (I really don’t remember) before I was on my deck meditating and one of my favorite birds a Gold Finch landed on the railing nearly in front of me and just stayed there. I was thrilled.

Here is the question were these accidents of nature or the Holy Spirit manifesting herself to me, sort of conformation that we were sharing a moment together.

I have read of more dramatic signs that the authors were convinced were evidences of the reality of the existence of God active in our universe. One was when a man was in a bar at an airport fortifying himself preflight. He was very fearful of flying. He noticed something laying on the bar in front of him that turned out to be a tie tack with his initials on it.

To me this seems like just a coincidence, an unusual one perhaps but not of any significance. To him it was much more. He explained it this way; to find a tie tack with one of his initials would be interesting. To find one with two of his initials would be unlikely but the odds against finding one with all three of his initials and in the correct order are astronomical. This became a message to him that he was doing the right thing and the right time. God inserting himself into his affairs with a tie tack and saying good job keep going.

So when is a sign, a sign and coincidence, a coincidence? Does God actually drop little hints along the way? Does He allow little rips in the barrier between us to get our attention now and then? I find a answer for this in one of the strangest concepts of Quantum Physics. This is based, of course, on my belief that God speaks of His nature and methods through His creation.

There are four principles of Quantum Mechanics. They are Wave functions, Allowed states, Probability and Measurement. The one I want to look at is measurement. The Quantum Mechanical definition of measurement goes like this, “Measuring the state of an object absolutely determines the state of that object.” (How to Teach Physics to Your Dog, Chad Orzel, Pg 59.) This means that if you measure the position of an electron, for example, your measurement determined its’ position. I have written about this kind of strangeness before. The probability wave form of an electron can be equal in more than one position, therefore is can be in more than one place at the same time. What Quantum Mechanics is saying is that it exists at both places at the same time until an observer measures its’ position. At that point it exists only at the measured spot.

I think the signs are like that as well. What they are is determined by who sees them. To the spiritually astute they are fingerprints of God. To the spiritually unaware they are coincidences. Maybe this analogy isn’t 100% but I kind of like it.

Have a blessed week and watch the signs.

This may turn out to be a rather short blog this week. It is one of those weeks where I have started to write several times and could not complete it. I did see something that I would like to discuss with someone in the near future. I am sitting on my deck. It is 7:30 AM Sunday morning and the weather is perfect. I am thinking about how I will spend this day and how I would like to spend this day.

As a kid growing up Sundays were a day of inner conflict between what I so wanted to do and what I was allowed to do. My parents took the “day of rest” thing completely literally and I was filled with envy watching my Catholic friends go to mass in the morning and the lake that afternoon, for example. However, if I did manage to get in a game of basketball or, heaven forbid, watch a TV show at someone else’s house I was filled with guilt and, therefore, the conflict.

I carried a lot of this with me into adulthood until recently. Now, rather late in life, I have taken just as literally that the Sabbath is a symbol of the rest that comes from understanding and appropriating the Lord’s grace. So, sitting on the deck I contemplate mowing the grass after church or changing the rear brakes on the car. But neither of these tasks are what I want to do. The only pleasure in doing them is found in the knowledge that I am free to do them. For me it is still almost worship to exercise that freedom.

Here is what I want my Sundays to be like. I am in a book study that meets once a week on Wednesday night. The material we covered this past week explained that the Jews who lived before the Babylonian Exile regarded Sunday as a day to celebrate God and what He did in creation. I got the feeling that it was like God looked back on what He had created and was so pleased with himself that He wanted everyone to share in that accomplishment. So, the ancient ones did just that. They had big meals where the whole family was present and so was anyone else who happened to need a meal. The day was spent eating and talking with friends mostly about God. The “no-work-on-the-Sabbath” thing was an effect of the celebration not a law unto itself until the time of the Exile and the Pharisees.

It seems to me that we moderns have condensed this whole day of celebrating God into two and a half hours on Sunday morning if you still go to Sunday School. There is the coffee and doughnuts before class or before the service, twenty minutes of “mixing” time, twenty minutes of music and finally the sermon, the entire Jewish celebration in the space of one morning.

Ok, I am dreaming a little here but what if Sunday consisted of a day to eat with family and neighbors. A time to spend the whole day talking about, thinking about God. A day set aside to deepen my relationship with Him to just walk with Him. This is not meant to sound legalistic in any way. I would put aside my usual work only because the fellowship experienced with Him through friends and contemplation was too rich to miss.

Could that actually happen? I have the beginnings of it now. I am going to meet with two of my closest friends for coffee and bagels in about an hour. Unfortunately, that will be interrupted at precisely 10:30 so that we can get to church. Then, I will probably mow the lawn.

Continued from last week’s blog

I went back home in a daze. Who or what was this man Jesus who had just saved my life and had stirred me so deeply. I just hung around the house for a couple of days trying to let everything sink in and make some sense of it. Gradually reality began to set in again and I realized that nothing had really changed. I still had no husband, brothers or father to take care of me and I only had one thing that I knew how to do but the one who saved me told me to not do that any more. My food was running out and I don’t own this house. You can guess how I paid the rent. What in the world did he want me to do?

I have one friend. His name is Gamael and he is a priest. He never once tried to take advantage of me. He really does just want to be friends. He knew that I was a prostitute and didn’t care. He just likes me to visit him and we would talk. I love him like a grandfather. So I went to Gamael and told him the whole story. I didn’t expect his reaction either. He smiled and I thought for a second his face was glowing. I almost shouted, “Gamael, what is going on. Why did Jesus laugh? Why did I feel so loved? Who is he anyway and how did he know my name?

“Miriam, are you familiar with the book of Isaiah? Let me recite a portion of it for you.

ISA 42:1 “Here is my servant, whom I uphold,
my chosen one in whom I delight;
I will put my Spirit on him
and he will bring justice to the nations.

ISA 42:2 He will not shout or cry out,
or raise his voice in the streets.

ISA 42:3 A bruised reed he will not break,
and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out.
In faithfulness he will bring forth justice;

ISA 42:4 he will not falter or be discouraged
till he establishes justice on earth.

That is a prophesy about the Messiah. Does it sound like your new
friend? I have been watching this Jesus for several years and I am convinced that you met the Messiah. What a blessed woman you are!”

“I don’t know what to say, Gamael. If you are right and you could very well be right because I certainly have never met anyone like him, then, I am more conflicted than ever. Tell me why did he tell me not to sin? I can’t eat; pay the rent or even cloth myself without sinning. I have been thinking about this constantly since that day and if the truth were known I can hardly breathe without breaking the law in some way. I would do anything for him but he asks me to do the one thing I simply can’t do. Why did he do that to me? I feel so ungrateful and so powerless to change it. Gamael, what am I supposed to do?”

“Miriam, my poor child, let’s think about this a minute. Let’s start with the assumption that he is the Messiah. He did claim to be the Son of God the other day and he knew who you were even your name. Now, he said two things to you. First, “Neither do I condemn you.” Child you have been forgiven by the Son of God. The one who, in another place in Isaiah, is described as ‘taking away the sins of the world’. Miriam, can you get a hold of that. Your sins have been forgiven, period, end of story.”

“Gamael, let’s say that all you say is right. Here is my point. My sins are forgiven until I sin again. I could believe that my sins are forgiven if he had not said go and sin no more. What that means to me is they were forgiven until the desire to strangle that young Pharisee returns. Then, I am back where I started from, not to mention entertaining a man for profit again. Do you see what I mean? ‘Go and sin no more.’ It is so clear and final.”

“Ok, you asked why he said that to you. If he is the Son of God and if he is so gentle that he will not break a bruised reed, then, the reason had to be to cause you to do exactly what you are doing. In other words he wanted you to struggle over why he said that to you.”

“Well, he succeeded.”

“Of course he did and he even had a little chuckle about it didn’t he? Miriam, here is what this old man thinks happened to you. You met the Messiah; he accepted you completely as you are. He forgave you, that is, he took your sins away and he wanted you to realize what had really happened. You are free. You are forgiven. His second statement to you was not so much to modify your behavior as it was to make you realize what had just happened. Amazing, just amazing.”

I was speechless. I still am. I don’t know what I am going to do from here but I know I cannot turn tricks anymore. It’s not that I am afraid to return to my old profession or what he would think if I did. There is a part of me that is a prostitute. She took care of me when there was nothing else I could do. I love her for that but Jesus saw the real me and made me see her too and that is who I am going to be.

My name is Miriam. I am a Jewish woman and an orphan. I have no family that I know of. I was an only child and both parents died of some disease that swept through Jerusalem 10 years ago. At this time in Israel that gives me the status of a slave or lower. I am rather beautiful even if I do say so myself. Lots of men have told me so as well because to survive I have become a prostitute.

I am not a street walker. I have found a niche market you might say. You see, there are quite a few of the Pharisees that are not as devout as they seem and I have proven to be very discrete. Because of my willingness to keep what happens in my bedroom in my bedroom I have built up a significant clientele. That is I had a nice clientele until a few months ago.

See, I do a lot for my customers almost anything they ask but there are limits. One night this young Pharisee who is a real social climber wanted to cross those boundaries and I refused. He begged, then, he threatened and I still refused. Then, he turned white, ashen really. His hands began to shake and just when I thought he was going to beat me, he simply turned and left my house. I knew I was in deep trouble. I figured that the next stop for me was the street since I was sure the young Pharisee would see to it that all his friends would stop visiting me.

But much to my surprise the next night a friend of the young one showed up and laid his money on my dresser. Everything progressed as usual and we were in bed when the door to my bedroom came crashing down and five other men rushed in with my young Pharisee in the lead. They dragged me from the bed and told me to get dressed while they watched of course. They, then, began to shove me out of the house and down the road. I knew where we were going. I know the law. In a matter of hours I would be dead, beaten beyond recognition by boulders as large as melons thrown by men all of whom I had serviced at one time or another. But instead of heading out of town they turned into town toward the center. They hauled me in front of an other man. He couldn’t have been much over thirty. I heard one of them address him as Jesus.

That is what finally broke me. I still had my spirit even looking death in the face but when I realized that they were using me as some kind of bait before they killed me, I completely gave up. I laid face down in the dirt at the feet of this other man. I really didn’t hear what was going on. There was some yelling and shouting but the one called Jesus didn’t say a word. He looked down and was writing on the ground with his finger. Then, everything got quiet and he spoke. “Let the one among you without sin throw the first stone.” More silence.

I don’t know how long it was after that, that he reached down and lifted me up to a sitting position. There are no words to describe his face. He was beaming, smiling so broadly I thought his face would crack. His eyes didn’t look through me as much as they penetrated me. I knew that he knew who and what I was but here is the strange part. I couldn’t put it into a coherent thought at first. He saw someone else. Someone I didn’t know and he was enjoying being with that person.

I swear there was a chuckle in his voice when he said, “Where have all the men gone, the ones who wanted to kill you?” I replied, “They are gone sir.” Then he took me by the hands lifted me up and looking me straight in the eyes said, “Neither do I condemn you. Go and sin no more.” That’s when I looked down and saw what he had written on the ground, “Miriam”. How did he know my name? When I looked up he was laughing and walking away and I was alone. I didn’t know what to do.

To Be Continued

It is Friday afternoon and I am sitting in my wife’s hospital room where I have been for most of the daylight hours for the past three days. She just had her right knee replaced and is doing fine, well enough for me to begin to think about this week’s blog.

Last week I met with a bunch of guys from my church for a book study led by the Pastor. I wasn’t able to be with them last month so they brought me up to speed by explaining that they had decided that what a “win” would look like for us, the church leadership. It went something like a win is when there is transformation taking place in some or all of the lives of the congregation. This is pretty much in line with our vision statement that comes from Luke 4:18 and can be summarized by the initials PPBO, the Poor, the Prisoner, the Blind and the Oppressed. If you feed, bring release, give sight, and freedom to the people, transformation will happen. However, here is the question, “What is the best environment for this to happen?”

I am going to stop with this line of thought for a minute and go to another and hopefully they will come back together at the end. There is a web site called www.themoth.org. They publish a podcast that I follow fairly closely. This site is the web representation of an organization that started in Manhattan, New York. The founder started it by inviting some friends to his house for cocktails, then, someone would relate a true story from their life, told without notes. The third time he did this over one hundred people showed up and he had to move the next meeting to a larger facility on the island. I don’t know where the name, “The Moth” came from but that is how it got started. They now have several sites going in various major cities. They do road shows and most recently have produced a series of stories which got picked up by over 400 NPR stations across the country.

An evening at The Moth starts out with a cocktail hour followed by the story time. After the stories the people have dinner and swap other stories about their lives with each other. If you want to get an idea of what this feels like here is a link to one of the stories recorded live. Every time I listen to one of these stories I am struck by how engaged the audience is with the performer. Very often the material is funny or heart warming or heart wrenching and you can hear and even feel the audience reaction. I absolutely love listening to them. If you would like to listen to one go to http://www.mefeedia.com/watch/31396912 .

However, here is the point. What brought over 100 people together strictly by word-of-mouth to the founders’ home on that third meeting? What causes that kind of spontaneous response? What keeps the people around after the show? If you listened to the story did you feel a part of the group, maybe just a little?

I think the common denominator here is community. Even though this organization is completely secular, the response is the same. People are looking for a place to belong where they feel safe enough to be emotionally engaged. Both components are equally important. Safety must be integral to the environment. This is safety from exclusion and/or rejection. The other part is that the environment must provide a mechanism to engage the attendee emotionally.

So, I have come back to my original topic. If you want to provide an environment where transformation can happen it must be safe and emotionally engaging. This is true if you are theatre or a church. The temptation here is to launch into how we do or do not achieve this but I am going to resist. I would rather have you think about your church ministries and run it through the filter. Is it safe for everyone? Is it emotionally engaging?

Have a great week.

Ken

I haven’t written about a fingerprint of God for a long time. These are little signs or clues of the character of God that I see when I study His creation. Most of them are based in physics or astronomy.

I remember the first time I saw one. I was reading a book by Brian Greene, The Elegant Universe early in the morning and heard the Spirit say, “What you just read is what I am like.” I was dumb founded. I knew right there that God, creator of the universe had spoken to me and I sensed His pleasure at my finding the clue that He had left behind. I have been watching for them ever since.

I was so excited about this experience that all I wanted to do was share it. After all, a joy not shared is half a joy. But when I did, for the most part, I got blank looks. I couldn’t translate the insight to the point where someone else would get excited about it as well.

This lack of response had a dampening effect over time on my zeal to see “His Fingerprints” until last week. Last week I read two things that relit the spark. One was in the fourth chapter of Abba’s Child by Brennan Manning. Brennan was talking about “Christ’s present risenneess”. By this he means how we need to see Jesus as risen from the dead and with us now. He gave several concrete examples of clues that he, Manning, had seen and interpreted as evidence that God was alive and active in His life. Later in the discussion he quoted Fredrick Buechner, who, after seeing what he considered to be a ‘fingerprint’ said, “. . . . What it meant to me, what I chose to believe it meant was, you are in the right place, the right errand, the right road at that moment.”

How cool is that? These things that some consider coincidence or non-sense, if seen through spiritual eyes may be not only clues of what God is like but they may also be bread crumbs meant to encourage and lead us home.

The second thing I read last week was in an introduction to quantum mechanics entitled, How to Teach Physics to Your Dog by Chad Orzel where I saw another fingerprint. Now, I should say that what I really needed to say today was that we need to practice seeing life through spiritual eyes and rejoice in the clues about God that we find. So, if you stop reading now I will understand. But if you are feeling benevolent read on.

In his book, Orzel, makes the point that everything can be described by an equation called a probability waveform. This mathematical statement says that all particles or objects have a probability of being everywhere in the universe. It may be 1 or it may be 0 or any other value but it has a value everywhere you look. So, everything has a probability of touching everything else. All of our probability waves are entangled.

While thinking about this it dawned on me that, this is what God’s ‘omnipresence’ is like or at least it is a way to think about it. Gods’ wave function has a positive value everywhere in the universe and it continuously intersects with mine and yours!

Omnipresence has always been one of those things that I had trouble wrapping my mind around. But here is a fingerprint, a sign post if you will that points directly to this divine characteristic. If this is too esoteric for you, I’m sorry, but it speaks to me.

Have a great week and if our waveforms should happen to go to 100% at the same place be sure to say hi.