From the Center of the Web

From the Center of the Web

I was requested by a relative to be named later
to write a poem about a spider. I think it was a spider;
I am not certain, but I know she does not like the bald ones.
My guess is that it was another animal that I have forgotten;
short term memory sometimes short-circuits that way.
Of a certainty though,
I do think I know that
this creature was to be intelligent.
Which makes me think it was not a spider for
spiders
have tiny little heads and very limited cranial capacity
for even a brain of average intelligence.
That is, except if we are talking analogously,
for a spider can carry much more brain power than
a midge or a mite.
The test, I suppose, would be its vocabulary.
Does it know the alphabet, can it rhyme (which this
poet cannot)? Can it count
and tell me that, as an arachnid, it must, most definitely have
eight legs?

“To have more would be preposterous,”
said the creature from the center of the web.

If you must know, this was all my grandchild’s idea.
I have never written about bugs and hope never to again.
I was informed, though, that as intelligent spiders may be,
they have not concocted a people spray to kill threatening men.

So I thank my grandchild Sage,
and bow to their extraordinary wisdom.
Also, I have never ridden a preposterous before,
but someday hope to have the opportunity.

Love is Enough

 Love is Enough

(“A new command I give you: Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.” John 13:34)

Love is enough,
was always enough,
will ever be enough,
and yet we stuff the heads of congregants
full of lead-weight conspiracies
so all they will see
is a world so dark something needs to be destroyed.

Love is ageless,
was always ageless,
will ever be ageless,
and yet a certain few, who will remain nameless,
are convinced we’ve turned the corner into everlasting
dark
ness.
Flash-fire weapons are the only solution.
Forgetting that the ammunition and collateral damage have
caused the pollution
that keeps us from sitting in the sun.

Love is divine,
was always divine,
will ever be divine,
and still we insist on justifying more hatred toward
completed souls whose love we do not understand.
We still insist on strangling the message from women
whose prophetic words open the world wide to seditious
hope, (the million dollar men broadcasting their rants against sin
only see the prophets as pernicious heretics who, no longer burned,
are shunned with fire and fury.)

Love is costly,
was always costly,
will every be costly,
and yet we kick the homeless out of our towns,
make them find shelter in locked sheds when the snow flies.
And we put our money into new chairs and chandeliers,
a fancy sign and then resign when the pay does not match
our preferred lifestyle.

Love is enough,
was always enough,
will ever be enough.
Let’s smooth the rough edges that
make the meek cower and the brave
go elsewhere to find
the kind of love
that suffers on crosses,
never draws lines,
but always draws the circle wider for
all humanity to enter.
Love is always front and center.

Dwelling in the Center

Dwelling in the Center

“Then the column of smoke covered the tent of meeting, and the glory of the Lord filled the tent.” Exodus 40:34

The final few chapters of Exodus read like complicated instructions for Lincoln Logs or an Erector Set. Dimensions, materials, and colors are all specified for the tent of meeting. It can be tiresome reading, especially if you are not sure what a cubit is.

When I was young, we would visit my grandparents in Tulsa, OK. My Uncle Veril had an Erector Set. I loved playing with it. It even had an electric motor so you could build a tower with a functioning windmill. Sad to say, I never got that far in my building skills. I have never liked reading instructions; they feel like a waste of time. Just get in and get the thing built, is the way I roll.

I was thankful that we had two men who understood construction when we built our new church building in Harvey, ND. If I had been in charge… (Well, never mind. It would have fallen down by now.) But guided by two men who knew what we needed and gave good instructions, we started with a foundation of a 6400 square foot building that was perfect within a quarter inch on the diagonal. From there a beautiful place of worship arose.

If we only had the Old Testament, we might think that the building we worship in is the most important idea for meeting with God. After Moses completes the intricate instructions, God finally inhabits the tent of meeting in a column of smoke. It is so dense that Moses could not even go inside.

When the smoke lifted from the tent, the Israelites would break camp and follow it. Exodus ends by telling us that “the Lord’s column stayed over the tent during the day, and there was fire in the smoke at night. In this way all the Israelites could see the column throughout their travels.”

In a moment we’ll look at what the New Testament has to say about this. But let’s stay with this image for now. Imagine being among the tribes of Israel, watching the tent finally erected, and then a column of dense smoke fills its interior. You have only experienced God through the mediation of Moses until that point. As far as you know, God talks to Moses, Moses talks to you. God separates himself from humanity.

But now God actually shows up in the middle of your encampment. Yes, it is after doing the requisite preparations, but that makes sense too. Even if God does want to be among us, we also need to know that He is different than we are. The tent, in the middle of humanity, signals God’s relationship to humanity. He is a God who relates to us where we are.

And, God fully fills the tent. So much so that Moses cannot even enter. God not only dwells among them, but God leads them. No more through the mediation of Moses, the people can see for themselves that God is present. And when the column of smoke moves up and out of the tent, they know it is time to move on.

When John describes how Jesus came into the world he says, “The Word became human and lived among us. We saw his glory. It was the glory that the Father shares with his only Son, a glory full of kindness and truth.” The phrase “lived among us” means “tented with us.” Jesus is the presence of God in flesh and blood. Now, notice this. In Exodus it said that the “glory of the Lord filled the tent.” John says of Jesus, “We saw his glory. It was the glory that the Father shares with his only Son.”

The tent of meeting in the wilderness was a picture of what God ultimately wanted to do. God no longer must be experienced in some sort of manifestation. He has already shown up in His Son Jesus. 

Let me be honest. For a good 20 years of my Christian life I went to worship services and meetings and longed for “God’s presence.” I would stay late to pray. Others would tell of their experiences of a “glory cloud” or some similar thing, and I would seek for the same experience. I wanted “all” of God. I do not want to negate anyone’s personal experience, but I do need to make this statement. If you have trusted Jesus, you have all of God within that you will ever have! God never doesn’t show up, because Jesus dwells in you now.

Here is how Paul describes it: “God wanted his people throughout the world to know the glorious riches of this mystery—which is Christ living in you, giving you the hope of glory.” Colossians 1:27 You do not have to pray harder, read the Bible longer, attend more meetings or any other religious action. Christ is all and in all. And all of Christ dwells in you.

“Why, then, don’t I feel like He is there?” Ah, that questions haunted me as well, especially when I heard other people’s tales of spiritual and mystical experiences. (Let me say again, I do not discount anyone’s experience, but to long for what someone else has can become a form of covetousness and even idolatry.)

Let me give just one idea that helps me. This time, not the erector set, but packing a car for a trip. My mom was the most fastidious packer in the world. She once packed a Volkswagen van for a two-month cross country camping trip with all the equipment and a family of six! But packed well, there was space for the whole family.

It may not be the best analogy but think of it like this. We all have lots of stuff packed into our lives. And they are not good or bad things, they are just the stuff of living. We have jobs, school, meals to prepare, laundry to wash, cars to maintain; all of these occupy our mind and our time. With so much occupying the center of our life, it is not easy to consider that Christ is actually dwelling within us.

Now consider the deepest part of your being, your soul. Think about the deepest desires, the highest beauty, the music that inspires you, the friends that make you laugh the most. All of these are gifts from God. Even your unmet needs or tears of sorrow are places to experience Christ. When your heart is moved by an act of kindness, it is Christ within joining with your own spirit. When you struggle with deep pain or excruciating temptation, Christ is your “hope of glory” and is fully present in that moment.

Mom packed that bus, putting everything in its place, so the center, where passengers sit, could be clear as possible. She did not ignore the suitcases, the camping gear and ice chest, she simply arranged them to leave an open center. Think about doing that with the “stuff” of your life. Do not classify it as secular versus spiritual, just arrange your life to have a center where you always find Christ. The truth is, I would much rather have Him dwelling within me than having to go to a tent full of smoke, wouldn’t you? Let Him dwell in the center of your being. That is where He wants to make His home. Not as a ruler or a lord, but as a loving and compassionate Brother as you wander through life’s wilderness.