Thursday, July 22, 2021

Ordinary Days #24: Sunrises

May the Lord rejoice

    in his creation. (Psalm 104:31)

Jen’s been sending me pictures of her Cancun sunrises—a reminder of how we shared Majahua sunrises a few years back—always the first ones up. Her picture was accompanied only by this: “Psalm 104.” So I read it. It’s a hymn to God’s good and plentiful creation. Following six stanzas praising the wonders of God’s creation it ends the seventh and last stanza praying that God too will be pleased with his creation. Can God still rejoice in his creation?

Tuesday, July 20, 2021

Ordinary Days #23: Flight into the heavens


Nothing that humans propose to do

   will now be impossible for them. (Genesis 11:6)

I just watched Jeff Bezos’ flight into space from his east Texas ranch. What to make of it? With a critical eye, one might ask, what does this 200 billion dollar man’s Disneyland Ride have to do with societal struggles below? On the other hand, there is something, at least for me, wonderfully human in his flight above—a man with a dream; and, the freedom to live it out.

Ordinary Days #22: One more philanthropic thought

Show courtesy to all people. (Titus 3:2)

The philanthropy of Julius towards Paul, and the philanthropy of the Islanders to all those shipwrecked on their island, and then God’s own philanthropy extended towards us even “when we were foolish, disobedient, led astray, slaves to various passions and pleasures, passing our days in malice and envy, despicable, hating one another” (Tit 3:3); parlays us who have experienced God’s philanthropy to become philanthropic ourselves: “to be ready for every good work, to speak evil of no one, to avoid quarreling, to be gentle, and to show every courtesy to all people” (Tit 3:1-2).

In short, believers who have experienced God’s philanthropy, should themselves excel in philanthropy. As the Apostle, who experienced the philanthropy of a Roman commander, and of Islanders, and of God; put it: “Those who have come to believe in God may be careful to devote themselves to good works; these things are excellent and profitable to all people” (Tit 3:8-9).

 

Monday, July 19, 2021

Ordinary Days #21: The philanthropy of God

When the loving kindness (philanthrōpia)

    of God our Savior appeared,

    he rescued us. (Titus 3:4-5)

Philanthropy appears twice in the Ship voyage from Jerusalem/Caesarea to Malta/Puteoli. It appears once at the beginning when “Julius treated Paul kindly (philanthrōpos) giving him leave to be with his friends and to be cared for” (Ac 27:3); and then again, at the end when washed up on shore and “the natives showed kindness (philanthrōpia), and welcomed all of them” (Ac 28:2). Nothing more is said of Julius save that he was the Roman military commander in charge of the prisoners on ship and that, for some reason, he took a liking to Paul. As for the Islanders, nothing is said of their faith or lack of faith—just humans who showed remarkable kindness through three winter months to all 276 survivors of the ship wreck.

Philanthropy will make one more appearance in the Bible: “When the loving kindness (philanthrōpia) of God our Savior appeared, he saved us, not because of any works of righteousness that we had done, but according to his mercy, through the water of rebirth and renewal by the Holy Spirit” (Titus 3). Something of a surprise, isn’t it? No use of agape here. Just this most human of love words. That God—Father, Son, and Spirit; is a philanthropist. He likes humans—hard to believe. Maybe God still sees, in spite of our sin and our shame, something of Himself in us—something of God’s own Image remains in us.

 

Sunday, July 18, 2021

Ordinary Days #20: Rescued

 The islanders showed us

    unusual kindness. (Acts 28:2)

It happened to us that first full day on the Island. When we returned to our third floor condo following an afternoon of frolicking about in the ocean and the pool; we found ourselves locked out. It dawned on us slowly. Eventually we sorted it out. There were two lanyards: one for the condo and the other for the mail box. In our excited state we grabbed the wrong lanyard. We could get into the mail box, but not the “Penthouse,” as they called the third floor; not because it is much different from floors one and two, but because it is the top floor.

An hour or so into it, we concluded there simply was no way back into our 3rd story penthouse. There were layers of complication—like we had left our phones (except for Joanna) and credit cards and car keys and stuff in the condo thinking only of sand and sea. Maybe that’s the price we had to pay for pretending like we were penthouse kind of people. It’s as if those in the know said, “You don’t belong here!” There is truth enough to that. We weren’t exactly supposed to be there. By surprise, we found ourselves penthouse dwellers for a week; and, not even 24hrs into it, we messed up, locked out due to our exuberant foolishness.

But, “the islanders showed us unusual kindness (philanthrōpia).”  One of the Islanders scooted up a precarious three story ladder, provided by the Kona Fire Department, to our lanai from which he was free to enter since, providentially, we left the lanai doors open. Our Island rescuers could not have been more kind. They could have made fun and washed their hands of us. But instead, they showed us penthouse pretenders, simple human kindness.

It reminded me some of the Apostle’s rescue. Adrift on “planks and pieces of the ship’s wreckage,” all 276 passengers, including the Apostle Paul and Dr. Luke, were washed up onto the shore of a small island about 80 miles south Sicily called Malta. Today, the shore where the islanders “showed unusual kindness (philanthrōpia),” is called “The Bay of Saint Paul.” As Luke narrates the voyage from Jerusalem/Caesarea to Malta, there is some irony between the simple human kindness (philanthrōpia, from which we get our word “philanthropy”) of these Malta islanders, and the Roman arrogance (hubris 27:10&21 from which we get our word “hubris”) of the ship’s command that resulted in wreckage. Something like us penthouse vacationers being salvaged by the islanders’ simple human kindness.

Tuesday, July 13, 2021

Ordinary Days #19: The Watery Part of the World.

 Yonder is the sea, great and wide,

   creeping things innumerable are there,

   living things both small and great.

Even Leviathan that You formed

   to frolic about in it. (Psalm 104:25-26)

The SoCal Heath family invited us to join them last week on the Island of Hawaii. We landed late, too dark to see Hawaii, but you could feel her. Something about the air and the smells that stirred us so much, that we took the roof off our Jeep to take it all in.

Our top down Jeep ride was all fun and games until we ran into a bit of a rain storm along Queen Ka’ahumanu Highway on our way to some vague destination on ‘Anaeho’omalu Bay. Somehow, in the darkness, we arrived; and, made our way to our third floor condo. When we awoke in the morning, we realized we had landed in a special place with the sea always in view—mesmerizing. There are those cool breezes and flowery aromas; but most of all, it is “the sea great and wide” that draws us to these “watery parts of the world” (Moby Dick).

We were eager, first thing, even before breakfast, to make our way down from the lanai and get into those Hawaiian waters to view “the innumerable creeping things both large and small;” and, like Leviathan, “rollick about in the waters.” All the more blessed when done with our children and our children’s children. They are even more beautiful than the Islands.

Sunday, July 4, 2021

Ordinary Days #18: Fourth of July

I was born

   a citizen of Rome. (Ac 21:28)

The Roman Commander is impressed: “This man is a Roman citizen”—a citizenship which got the Apostle Paul out of difficulties and freed him to go about the Empire proclaiming the Gospel and planting churches along the way. On the Fourth of July we celebrate our American citizenship and recall its founding Document—the Declaration of Independents signed by 56 delegates in 1776: “With a firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence;” and they “pledged to each other their Lives, their Fortunes and their sacred Honor.”

Recently, organizations like the 1619 Project tell a different story. Nicole Hannah-Jones, in her 1619 lead article “The Idea of America,” says of our “Declaration of Independence”:

The United States is a nation founded on both an ideal and a lie. Our Declaration of Independence, signed on July 4, 1776, proclaims that ‘‘all men are created equal’’ and ‘‘endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable rights.’’ But the white men who drafted those words did not believe them to be true for the hundreds of thousands of black people in their midst. ‘‘Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness’’ did not apply to fully one-fifth of the country. Yet despite being violently denied the freedom and justice promised to all, black Americans believed fervently in the American creed. Through centuries of black resistance and protest, we have helped the country live up to its founding ideals.

Nevertheless, these flawed men managed to put forth our founding ideals. Ideals which Hannah-Jones tells us “black Americans believed fervently,” and “through the centuries of black resistance and protests,” have “helped the country live up to its founding ideals.” There is truth in that. Great ideals are always bigger than ourselves—making hypocrites of us all. Our founders where not unaware of this tension. It is a tension that will lead to “a great civil war,” as Lincoln tells it, “testing whether that nation… conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all people are created… can endure.” So far, we have endured “to form a more perfect union.” “This terrible war” brought us the 13th, 14th, and 15th Amendments “to secure the blessing of liberty” for all our citizens. 

In spite of the fact that this is not the Kingdom that awaits us; we do well to celebrate and be grateful. Like the Apostle, most of us were just born into it. Our American citizenship comes to us as a gift.

Friday, July 2, 2021

Ordinary Days #17: Another Mountain

I have come

   to fulfill the Law. (Sermon on the Mount)

Jesus gathers his recently called disciples on a mountain slope above the Galilean Sea and there proclaims the way of the Kingdom. It’s not a different Word from the Word spoken on Mount Sinai, but rather the fulfillment of Sinai—the God of Sinai made flesh and speaking “not as the scribes, but rather as One having authority” (Mt 7:29). Moses spoke of this day when he said, “God will raise up for you a prophet like me from among your own people” (Dt 18:15).

Jesus calls those gathered at the Mount, “blessed… the salt of the earth…and the light of the world.” He assures those gathered that he will not abolish the Law; but rather “fulfill the Law.” He points to the center and intent of Torah concerning how we behave towards one another: “Whatever you wish that others would do to you, do so to them; for this is the law and the prophets” (Mt 7:12). Or, as he would tell it later to a thoughtful enquirer: “’You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind, and with all your strength.' The second is this, 'You shall love your neighbor as yourself.' On these two commandments hang all the law and the prophets" (Mt 22:38-40).

There are ragged edges to the Law—like too much violence, for one thing. But the center holds. And, as for those ragged edges; somehow, Jesus absorbed the violence and vindictiveness on Calvary and set us free to enter the center of Torah where the heart of God dwells.