how deep is your mercy? (part 3)

I'm speaking next week for the launch of iSERVE. I'm hoping it's an eclectic experience of solemn worship and exuberant celebration. Hoping... and praying. So, as we approach this launch of servitude, I wanted to share something with you that has stayed in my heart ever since I first read it some 15 years ago. It's from Calvin Miller's "The Table of Inwardness".

The intrigue of the table in Psalm 23 has marked my life as a pastor. The metaphor mixes itself in glory. The shepherd becomes the sheep and God becomes the shepherd. There is no flock. There are only two. The shepherd and his love walk along and uninterrupted from the pleasant fields through the threatening chasm and back again. There glory is not the path they walk but their togetherness.

And how do we come to the table in the wilderness? Exactly as we would to any other table - hungry. Our hunger is for him whom we really can never know fully in a group, no matter how religious that group is.

Do we not feel a certain reluctance to be there, alone with our Host who knows everything about us? Do we not feel repentance even as we sit at the table? Do we not desire to weep? Do we not feel emotion surging? Yes, but emotional feasting is not the reason we come to the table. We do not come to vent our emotion. We come to be with him. Deep feelings may be our response. Our fellowship with Christ, like all of life, may be marked by laughter and tears, but we meet with him because we need him and not because we need to laugh or to cry. 

Yet what of those times when our enemies gather against us? There is no panic. With our Host we sit in quietness with food as rich as our relationship. Those who brandish weapons and make threatening advances do not understand how we can act as though we are secluded in some grotto. The marvelous truth is that there is a grotto. It is not carved with stone or shaped by events. It is a grotto of the heart.

how deep is your mercy? (pt. 2)

I recently watched a movie I have had in my Netflix Queue for months, "Molokai: the story of Father Damien". I was humbled... and moved.

Damien was a Catholic Priest from Belgium in the 1800's who volunteered to the mission of being the only Priest on the Hawaiian island of Moloka'i; specifically, the northern peninsula which was a government-sanctioned medical quarantine for those with Hansen's Disease (leprosy).

Father Damien arrived to Molokai at the age of 33, in the year 1873. Six months later, he wrote his brother in Europe saying, "...I make myself a leper with the lepers to gain all to Jesus Christ."

Damien's arrival was a turning point for that neglected community. Under his leadership, basic laws were established and enforced, shacks (which were few) became over 350 painted houses, working farms were organized and schools were erected. At his own request, as well as that of the lepers, Father Damien remained on Moloka'i after his one month mission had expired.

In December of 1884, while preparing to bathe, Damien inadvertently put his foot into scalding water, causing his skin to blister... he felt nothing. It was then, 11 years after his arrival, he had finally contracted leprosy. Despite this discovery, Damien worked vigorously to complete building projects, enlarge the orphanages, and organize his work so it would continue after his death. 

Not a day too late, four strangers came to help the ailing missionary: a priest, a soldier, a male nurse, and a nun. Louis Lambert Conrardy (a Belgian priest), Mother Marianne Cope (the head of the Franciscan-run St. Joseph's Hospital in Syracuse, New York), Joseph Dutton (an American Civil War soldier, whose marriage had been broken by alcoholism) and James Sinnett (a nurse from Chicago) each took their experiences, skills and gifts to continue the vision and work of Father Damien. Conrardy took up pastoral duties; Cope organized a working hospital; Dutton attended to the construction and maintenance of the community's buildings; and Sinnett nursed Damien in the last stages of his disease. 

It wasn't too long before Father Damien was seen walking the island with one of his arms in a sling, a foot in bandages, and dragging his leg behind him. Damien knew more and more every day that his death was near. 

He became bedridden on March 23, 1889, and after 16 years of being the utmost servant, Father Damien died of leprosy at 8:00 am on April 15, 1889 (age 49).

"I think the company helps... but I know the prayers do." 

~ Father Damien, speaking to an uninfected islander and unbeliever as he walked into the hut of a leper.

(short article on Molokai and Father Damien)

how deep is your mercy?

Have you ever really pondered the depth of God's mercy? And with it, have you ever really considered the vast reach of his grace? 

Next Sunday - Jan 23 - we will sing a remake of a hymn written by Charles Wesley in 1740, entitled Depth of Mercy. Read the words to this hymn through the lens of these three verses: 

Depth of Mercy

Depth of mercy! Can there be 
mercy still reserved for me?
Can my God his wrath forbear, 
me, the chief of sinners, spare?

I have long withstood his grace, 
long provoked him to his face,
would not hearken to his calls, 
grieved him by a thousand falls.

I my Master have denied, 
I afresh have crucified,
oft profaned his hallowed name, 
put him to an open shame.

There for me the Savior stands, 
shows his wounds and spreads his hands.
God is love! I know, I feel; 
Jesus weeps and loves me still.

Now incline me to repent, 
let me now my sins lament,
now my foul revolt deplore, 
weep, believe, and sin no more. 
------------------------------------------------------


Ephesians 2.8 ~ For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God.

Matthew 10.8 ~ Freely you received, freely give.

change begets change...

Communications & Arts Party ~ Sunday, January 9th @ 3:00 pm

chris, christie and camille's home
16301 dry creek blvd, prosper 75078 (map)

EVERYONE: please bring a finger food or dessert of your choice!

let us know if you're coming -->
(all staff and elders are welcome, too!)

Like all things in life, change begets change. iTunes has made some changes that make it difficult (if not impossible) to post iMixes like I have in the past. That little change has created an avalanche of other considerations... so, I am exploring the "blog option" as the primary method to help keep us all connected and informed BUT it will require something of you, too.

FIRST, let me know your thoughts on utilizing the "blog option" for our communications - it's easier and allows for more flexibility on my end, but I would like to know your thoughts (there is a poll on your right).

SECOND, I would really like ALL arts & communication folks to subscribe to my blog so you will receive automatic notifications of new posts. This way, when I have something to communicate to our a&c posse, I can have the confidence of knowing you're all getting the update. 

THIRD, if you want to view each Sunday's iMixes, you can follow me on Ping (which is iTunes' social network). Or, you can follow me on Twitter or Facebook for all of my updates, which will include notifications of new iMixes, new blog entries and other philosophical (though maybe peripheral) thoughts. Sorry for all change... but with no change, there is no appreciation. ;-)

Oh, almost forgot... here's my new year's deep thought for you:

To discover the will of God you don't know, 

do the will of God you do know.