It occurs to me…

Listening to an On Being interview of Michelle Alexander recently I heard this and it stuck:

“We have become a nation of stone-throwers, and it is not enough to simply put down our own stone.”

My mind immediately went to Acts 8 and the account of Stephen’s stoning.  As people began to stone Stephen for his beliefs they “laid their clothes at the feet of a young man named Saul” (Acts 7:58) and it is later reported that Saul “was there giving approval to his [Stephen’s] death.” (Acts 8:1).  There is no indication that Saul (later, Paul) ever picked up a stone, no report that he actually tossed one.  Still, Stephen was stoned to death.

It occurs to me, and I think occurred to Paul, that the injustice is/was the stoning.  Putting my stone down does not make the stones thrown by others that hit their mark hurt any less, nor does it somehow excuse those that miss their mark. Yes, putting my stone down is good.  My never picking one up is even better.  But there is more to do.  Paul spent the rest of his days trying to prevent the “stonings” and encouraging others to do the same.  Me?

Photo looking out from the Pacific Coast in Oregon earlier this year.  I enjoyed the humor in the thought enough to stick it on the photo.

From Turn Your Eyes Upon Jesus

Turn your eyes upon Jesus,
Look full in His wonderful face;
And the things of earth will grow strangely dim
In the light of His glory and grace.

These lyrics popped into my head today.  Often it is easy to lose sight, to lose perspective.  These lyrics help in that battle.

Today, a convergence of two sources lights the way:

From Anne Lamott, Traveling Mercies: “Life does not seem to present itself to me for my convenience, to fix itself up nicely so I can write about it with wisdom and a point to make before putting it on a shelf somewhere.  Now … I understand just enough about life to understand that I do not understand much of anything.”

It occurs to me that, like Anne Lamott, “do not understand much of anything,” and that thought becomes even stronger any time I sit and fret about tomorrow, which caused me to cue up one of my favorite old hymns: “Today, I’ll walk beside him, for He knows what is ahead.  Many things about tomorrow, I don’t seem to understand, but I know who holds tomorrow, and I know who holds my hand.”

Understanding is SO overrated.

Often, when I read C. S. Lewis, I get a good laugh, but a serious laugh.  He has this ability to create laughter by hitting hard points with a heavy dose of sarcasm.  (I am, of course, jealous!)  Today’s reading from Mere Christianity is an example:

“For there are two thing inside me, competing with the human self which I must try to become.  They are the Animal self, and the Diabolical self.  The Diabolical self is the worse of the two.  That is why a cold, self-righteous prig who goes regularly to church may be far nearer to hell than a prostitute.  But of course, it is better to be neither.”

It occurs to me that often I justify my shortcomings by pointing to a worse example of the same.  One could call that the “better than” syndrome.  By way of example – “I am not very compassionate, but I am better than ______.”  This is, of course, where Lewis’ statement fits in: “But of course, it is better to be neither.”  Indeed!

I get troubled lately about things, well, more troubled than usual.  Thankfully, incidents of relief occur out of the blue, things which could (likely, should) be interpreted as God sprinkling grace abundantly.  One such moment occurred recently at, of all places (those are the sprinkles of grace we appreciate the most, the surprising ones) –a Jackson Browne concert.  After playing a string of upbeat songs he started this one, just him at a piano singing a song I had not heard before – Walls and Doors:

“Ever since the world existed

There’s one thing that is certain

There are those who build walls

And those who open doors

Ah, but this my love, I’m thinking you already know

For some its always winter

While others have the spring

Some people find good fortune

While others never find a thing

Ah, but this my love, I’m thinking you already know.”

(I’ll skip right over the obvious relevance/application here, but note it was not lost on the crowd even though the song itself is at least thirty years old)

Well, I do already know those things, but it is good to be reminded of it before my walls get too high and the chill of winter overtakes me.  Here’s to open doors, spring, good fortune, and, as with this string of words, finding things.  Things I already know, but tend to lose sight of.

“And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, and to love mercy, and to walk humbly with your God.”  Micah 6:8 (NIV)

I ran across this passage today and started looking up other translations and interpretations.  Ultimately, I fell upon this one.  I am no Greek scholar but this one from Eugene Peterson’s The Message felt right:

“But he’s already made it plain how to live, what to do, what God is looking for in men and women.  It’s quite simple: Do what is fair and just to your neighbor,  be compassionate and loyal in your love, and don’t take yourself too seriously — take God seriously.”

Indeed, the concept is “quite simple.”  The application, well, that’s a bit more challenging.

“It is not perfection that leads us to God; it is perseverance.”  Joan Chittister

I read this and immediately thought of Matthew 5:48:  “Be ye therefore perfect, even as your Father which is in heaven is perfect.”  Of course, the aspiration for perfection in life is just that, an aspiration.  Luckily, when I persevere, God fills in the gaps, the imperfections, with His grace and forgiveness.