Happiness is a Choice

One night when I was no more than ten, after a very grumpy day, my mother told me a story as she was tucking me in that went something like this: There were two boys in prison where they were forced to perform all kinds of difficult chores. One day they were brought to the stables and shown one stall that was filled with manure all the way to the ceiling and told to empty it. One boy gleefully grabbed his shovel, jumped right in and began shoveling with all the energy he had. The other boy scowled and began making fun of the shoveling boy, "Whatsa matter with you? Do you like horse crap, you gonna eat it, or what?" The other boy stopped shoveling long enough to exclaim, "Look at all this manure! There's gotta be one heck of a horse in their somewhere, and I am gonna find him!" My mom went on to say, "you need to be like that first little boy and find the good in everything." I remember lying there in bed that night, amused by the absurdity of the boy's optimism but resolving to be just like him. And as Robert Frost said, "that has made all the difference."

From time to time in life we can get off track in one way or another, slowly drifting from things we know to be true, without realizing how off course we are getting. We need a good friend, a piece of scripture, or the Spirit's nudging to get us moving in the right direction again. Over the last two years, I have slowly but steadily gotten more and more depressed about the current state of the world. I had forgotten to choose joy, and it was debilitating. But then a friendly voice on the radio, pointed me back to truth with his Happiness Hour. Dennis Prager with his insistence that happiness is a moral obligation we owe to those around us, and his constant reminders that happiness in no way is reliant on our circumstances has helped me get back on course. So thank you mom for setting me down the path of happiness and thank you Dennis for reminding me the way back to that path.

When Perfection Comes

"But where there are prophcies, they will cease; where there are tongues, they will be stilled; where there is knowledge, it will pass away...and now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love."

- From Saint Paul's first letter to the Church in Corinth, Greece.

Joyful, Joyful We Adore Thee

Joyful, joyful, we adore Thee,
God of glory, Lord of love;
Hearts unfold like flow’rs before Thee,
Op’ning to the sun above.
Melt the clouds of sin and sadness;
Drive the dark of doubt away;
Giver of immortal gladness,
Fill us with the light of day!


All Thy works with joy surround Thee,
Earth and heav’n reflect Thy rays,
Stars and angels sing around Thee,
Center of unbroken praise.
Field and forest, vale and mountain,
Flow’ry meadow, flashing sea,
Singing bird and flowing fountain
Call us to rejoice in Thee.


Thou art giving and forgiving,
Ever blessing, ever blest,
Wellspring of the joy of living,
Ocean depth of happy rest!
Thou our Father, Christ our Brother,
All who live in love are Thine;
Teach us how to love each other,
Lift us to the joy divine.


Mortals, join the happy chorus,
Which the morning stars began;
Father love is reigning o’er us,
Brother love binds man to man.
Ever singing, march we onward,
Victors in the midst of strife,
Joyful music leads us Sunward
In the triumph song of life.

-Henry J. van Dyke, 1907
Paintings by Albert Bierstadt

These words are life giving sustenance and should be savored slowly. Like a smooth stone in the hand, my mind runs over them time and time again drawing strength from the power they convey. The lyrics to this song captured me as a young boy sitting in the pew. I remember taking a hymnal home and reading this song over and over. I couldn't get enough of it and eventually memorized it so that I would always have it with me.

Light and Life

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was with God in the beginning. Through him all things were made; without him nothing was made that has been made. In him was life, and that life was the light of men. The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it." - John, the apostle

I don't know that the world is getting any darker but it sure feels that way. Humans are pretty good at coping though and so it becomes pretty easy to live in a self induced state of denial about how bad things are (and have been for oh, the last six thou or so). We learn to tolerate, adapt to, and even participate in darkness and the celebration of. For example, I remember briefly being disturbed by the fact that I was rooting for a gang of thieves while watching the movie Ocean's Eleven, but apparently not disturbed enough to refrain from watching its sequels; Ocean's Twelve and Thirteen. That has been me in a nutshell up to this point in my life - mildly or even blatantly amused by sin, willfully ignorant of convenient injustices, and in general deaf to most of the din and roar beyond whatever walls my mind could create. A line from my friend John's blog sums it up well,

St. Cyprian wrote to his friend in North Africa in the third century admitting from his “fair garden under the shadow of these vines” that the world looked cheerful. Yet he also knew that if he were to step away from the shade of his comfort, he would see that “It is really a bad world Donatus, an incredibly bad world”

At some point in the past year I feel as though I have been shaken from the comfort of my mental "Shire" and have started to become aware of the prescence of the Valley of the Shadow. It hasn't been tragedy or hardship that has jolted me awake but rather the overwhelming prescence of beauty. Patty Griffin's voice, Mark Helprin's writing, Brahms, Thomas Sowell's mind, the boundless delight found in my wife Jennifer's face, the subdued pastels and heartbreaking silence of twilight, the Guadalupe on my skin, the grace in my daughter's smile, the smell of warm bread and it's ability to satisfy so deeply. All of these and more have shattered me. I am ruined for anything less. These gifts have driven me straight into the arms of the one I call, "The Great Other." Father, Spirit, Son. Jesus, Yahweh, The Great "I Am." And all of this feels like about the twentieth of what will surely be hundreds of salvations. Saved from myself, saved from death, saved from illusions, saved to life, and on and on it goes.

Like many believers I have dutifully attempted at times in my life to steer clear of sin, with some modest successes, and too many failures to count. My primary method for doing this was to attempt to build a series of floodgates to keep the darkness out. Not only did it not work, but in my fixation to keep the darkness out, I was ignorant of the light. My primary focus was in keeping darkness out rather than letting light in.

And then in spite of myself; morning broke, and I was awakened to the glorious light, and in that light I found life.

To my left and to my right is a darkness blacker than death, I am more aware of it now than ever before, but in front of me is Light and Life and with a face set like flint on what I desire, I choose Light and I choose Life. I exult in its radiant joy. I can see it (hear it, taste it, touch it, smell it) now.

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." - Jesus, (The Light and The Life)

The Song of the Lark - Jules Breton

The World Unseen

"Then Moses said, "Now show me your glory."

And the Lord said," I will cause all my goodness to pass in front of you, and I will proclaim my name, the Lord, in your presence. I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. But," he said, "you cannot see my face, for no one may see me and live."

Then the Lord said, "There is a place near me where you may stand on a rock. When my glory passes by, I will put you in a cleft in the rock and cover you with my hand until I have passed by. Then I will remove my hand and you will see my back; but my face must not be seen."

-Exodus

Church

From Hans Kung's book, On Being a Christian, as found in Brennan Manning's Book, A Glimpse of Jesus:
"The church of Jesus Christ is a home not only for the morally upright but for those who for a variety of reasons have not been able to honor denominational teaching. The Church is a healing community proclaiming the Father's indiscriminate love and unconditional grace, offering pardon, reconciliation and salvation to the down-trodden and leaving the judgment to God.
A Church that will not accept the fact that it consists of sinful men and exists for sinful men becomes hard-hearted, self-righteous, inhuman. It deserves neither God's mercy nor men's trust. But if a Church with a history of fidelity and infidelity, of knowledge and error, takes seriously the fact that it is only in God's Kingdom that the wheat is separated from the tares, good fish from bad, sheep from goats, a holiness will be acknowledged in it by grace which it cannot create for itself. Such a Church is then aware that it has no need to present a spectacle of higher morality to society, as if everything in it were ordered to the best. It is aware that its faith is weak, its knowledge dim, its profession of faith haltering, that there is not a single sin or failing which it has not in one way or another been guilty of. And though it is true that the Church must always dissociate itself from sin, it can never have any excuse for keeping any sinners at a distance. It the Church self-righteously remains aloof from failures, irreligious and immoral people, it cannot enter justified into God's kingdom. But if it is constantly aware of its guilt and sin, it can live in joyous awareness of forgiveness. The promise has been given to it that anyone who humbles himself will be exalted."

I read this passage nearly two weeks ago and the power of it is still resonating like a church bell within my chest. The vibration inspiring and unsettling at the same time. I view it as a part of the answer, a piece of the puzzle. If you were to hold this in one hand and a call to holiness and repentance in the other, I feel you would be moving in the right direction.

The painting above is Scene at the Entrance of a Cathedral by Karl Brullhoff. For more reading on the church see the February 4th post on my friend John's blog.

Accepted

It would be impossible to overestimate the impact these meals have had upon the poor and the sinners. By accepting them as friends and equals Jesus had taken away their shame, humiliation and guilt. By showing them that they mattered to him as people he gave them a sense of dignity and released them from their old captivity. The physical contact which he must have had with them at table (John 13:25) and which he obviously never dreamed of disallowing (Luke 7:38-39) must have made them feel clean and acceptable. Moreover because Jesus was looked upon as a man of God and a prophet, they would have interpreted his gesture of friendship as God's approval of them. They were now acceptable to God. Their sinfulness, ignorance and uncleanness had been overlooked and were no longer being held against them.

Through table-fellowship Jesus ritually acted out his insight into the Father's indiscriminate love-a love that causes his sun to rise on bad people as well as good, and his rain to fall on the honest and the dishonest alike (Matt. 5:45). The inclusion of sinners in the community of salvation, achieved in table-fellowship, is the most dramatic expression of the message of the redeeming love of the merciful God. -Brennan Manning in A Glimpse of Jesus

Painting is Cornfield by Moonlight - Samuel Palmer

Psalm 119: The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men

I have always identified with Peter, he of the brash statement and subsequent belly flop. After one too many fruitless promises to God, I now just start laughing whenever I start making one of these inner vows and I feel like God is laughing with me. Not in a mocking way but in the intimate way that those closest to us can get away with when our foibles are revealed. Kind of like this, me: "What was I thinking?" God: "Yeah, what were you thinking?" Guffaws all around. It is at this moment of clarity when my delusional fog has been lifted by the light of his love that I hold out my hand and ask for help. Psalm 119 is one of my favorites because it really illustrates this pattern of human failure and divine intervention.

At first glance the psalmist appears to be one of those annoyingly pious jerks we'd all love to throttle. "Early in the morning before the sun is up, I am praying and pointing out how much I trust in you. I stay awake through the night to think about your promises." Just in case their was any confusion about his elevated spiritual state that has transcended the need for a little shut eye he also declares, "At midnight I will rise to give my thanks to you for your good laws." My reaction to this guy would be something like, "go ahead retard, just don't wake me up." He makes such bold declarations as, "With my lips I recount all the laws that come from your mouth," "I will never forget your precepts" and "My soul is consumed with longing for your laws at all times." Granted, it was a different culture, a different time, but this is still a human being, and that is what makes these statements so ridiculous. But then he gets honest, and it is beautiful. "Open my eyes, teach me, let me understand, strengthen me, direct me, sustain me, redeem me, deliver me, defend my cause, preserve my life." These are just snippets of his many cries for help in his quest for holiness. Consider the absolute dependence in "turn my eyes away from worthless things", and "turn my heart towards your statutes." "Turn me;" this is the request of a man who has lost the use of his limbs and cannot look out the window without assistance. It is the deeper meaning behind the cries of an infant on his back too long. Absolute dependence. And here lies the true picture of our relationship with God. Left to our own devices we have neither the desire nor the willpower to follow him. He sweeps in and there is this fragrance in the air, desire is born, a hunger acquired. He throws us on his back and we soar, our hearts light and free, and then somewhere along the way we mistake his power for ours. I am writing this not so much for you, this is something I've got to declare. I can do no good thing on my own. I have evidence. So why is it so hard for me to bend my knee? To rest? When flying, why do I think it is my wings that take me to "such great heights"? And after falling so many times, why do I persist in this arrogance?

It is because of this internal battle that I identify so strongly with the apostle Peter and with the father in Mark 9 who exclaims the great paradox, "I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!" Jesus woos us to himself with a persistant, undeterred grace and we respond presenting him with all that we can muster, a mustard seed at best, and full of impurities at that. He takes this imperfect microscopic offering and he breathes life into it and it begins to grow and as it grows our capacity to love Him grows with it. Grace, undeserved love. Absolute dependence. Turn me towards the light that I might live.

"Keep me far from every wrong; help me undeserving as I am, to obey your laws, for I have chosen to do right. I cling to your commands and follow them as closely as I can. Lord, don't let me make a mess of things. If you will only help me to want your will, then I will follow your laws even more closely... I have wandered away like a lost sheep, come and find me." -From Psalm 119:29-32, 176 Living Bible