0 A Doorkeeper for God

   One of the verses that I often remember is Psalm 84:10.  I don't always remember where to find it, but n this age of computers, if I can remember the words, the reference is never far away.  Here the singers in the temple, the Sons of Korah, and remember that even those with humble jobs rejoice in the service that they give to God saying...

"Better is one day in your courts than a thousand elsewhere; I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of the wicked.

    Today on Facebook, my friend Jim Jenson posted this poem about the same sort of thing as a remembrance of one of our seminary professors, Dr. Luke Keefer (photo, right).  This poem was one that meant a lot to Dr. Keefer, and, I think, may become one of mine as well.  I would like to note that I do not have any official permission to reprint this here, but you can also find it many places on the Internet.  

    Sam Shoemaker (photo, left) was the founder of Faith at Work at Calvary Episcopal Church in New York City, in 1926. He was also one of the spiritual leaders who helped draft the original 12 Steps of Alcoholics Anonymous and was a spiritual teacher to Bill W., AA’s co-founder. (from istandbythedoor.com)


I Stand at the Door

By Sam Shoemaker (from the Oxford Group)

I stand by the door.
I neither go to far in, nor stay to far out.
The door is the most important door in the world -
It is the door through which men walk when they find God.
There is no use my going way inside and staying there,
When so many are still outside and they, as much as I,
Crave to know where the door is.
And all that so many ever find
Is only the wall where the door ought to be.
They creep along the wall like blind men,
With outstretched, groping hands,
Feeling for a door, knowing there must be a door,
Yet they never find it.
So I stand by the door.

The most tremendous thing in the world
Is for men to find that door - the door to God.
The most important thing that any man can do
Is to take hold of one of those blind, groping hands
And put it on the latch - the latch that only clicks
And opens to the man's own touch.

Men die outside the door, as starving beggars die
On cold nights in cruel cities in the dead of winter.
Die for want of what is within their grasp.
They live on the other side of it - live because they have not found it.

Nothing else matters compared to helping them find it,
And open it, and walk in, and find Him.
So I stand by the door.

Go in great saints; go all the way in -
Go way down into the cavernous cellars,
And way up into the spacious attics.
It is a vast, roomy house, this house where God is.
Go into the deepest of hidden casements,
Of withdrawal, of silence, of sainthood.
Some must inhabit those inner rooms
And know the depths and heights of God,
And call outside to the rest of us how wonderful it is.
Sometimes I take a deeper look in.
Sometimes venture in a little farther,
But my place seems closer to the opening.
So I stand by the door.

There is another reason why I stand there.
Some people get part way in and become afraid
Lest God and the zeal of His house devour them;
For God is so very great and asks all of us.
And these people feel a cosmic claustrophobia
And want to get out. 'Let me out!' they cry.
And the people way inside only terrify them more.
Somebody must be by the door to tell them that they are spoiled
For the old life, they have seen too much:
One taste of God and nothing but God will do any more.
Somebody must be watching for the frightened
Who seek to sneak out just where they came in,
To tell them how much better it is inside.
The people too far in do not see how near these are
To leaving - preoccupied with the wonder of it all.
Somebody must watch for those who have entered the door
But would like to run away. So for them too,
I stand by the door.

I admire the people who go way in.
But I wish they would not forget how it was
Before they got in. Then they would be able to help
The people who have not yet even found the door.
Or the people who want to run away again from God.
You can go in too deeply and stay in too long
And forget the people outside the door.
As for me, I shall take my old accustomed place,
Near enough to God to hear Him and know He is there,
But not so far from men as not to hear them,
And remember they are there too.

Where? Outside the door -
Thousands of them. Millions of them.
But - more important for me -
One of them, two of them, ten of them.
Whose hands I am intended to put on the latch.
So I shall stand by the door and wait
For those who seek it.

'I had rather be a door-keeper'
So I stand by the door.

Detail: A Doorkeeper for God

0 Are You Loving?

    As I noted in my last blog, my family and I recently spent a week at Cedar Campus in the Upper Peninsula with author Tom Blackaby.  One of the things that Rev. Blackaby got me thinking about was this:

 “Are you loving?”

    Blackaby’s point was that while Jesus never compromised his faith or his values, he was always loving before he placed any demands on anyone.  For an example, let’s look at Jesus’ encounter with the Samaritan woman at the well (found in the Gospel of John, chapter 4).  Jesus’ disciples are off looking for some lunch but Jesus stays behind sitting near the village well.  Along comes a woman who has a problem with fidelity, has been married five times and is currently living with a sixth.  Jesus know all this but he doesn’t lead with it.  Jesus doesn’t show up with a sign that says “God hates whores” or begin his conversation by condemning her for her loose morals.  

Instead, Jesus begins by asking for a drink of water.

    That might not sound like much, but it is.  As a Jew, Jesus wasn’t supposed to even speak to a Samaritan and probably should have been careful to speak to a woman even if she was Jewish.  Because of her lifestyle, it is likely that this woman was regularly disrespected.  When she saw a Jewish man sitting by the well, she expected to be overlooked and disrespected.  But Jesus didn’t do that.  Jesus gave her respect when he spoke to her.  Jesus showed her love by asking her for something that he would have asked of one of his own disciples.  Speaking to a Samaritan would have been discouraged but drinking from a Samaritan’s cup would have been inconceivable.   Jesus showed her love by ignoring the rules of his culture. 

    Not surprisingly, Jesus doesn’t stop at being counter cultural.  Jesus doesn’t just offer this woman some self-esteem, he offers her living water saying, “Everyone who drinks this water will be thirsty again, but whoever drinks the water I give them will never thirst. Indeed, the water I give them will become in them a spring of water welling up to eternal life.”

    Let’s review: Jesus meets a woman who his culture says that he should ignore, and he speaks to her.  The religious leaders of the day said that Jesus should not speak to her, should not touch her, and should not even eat or drink from anything that she has touched but he asks her for a drink anyway.  And then, when the woman wonders why he is breaking all of the rules, he offers her living water, the gift of eternal life.  And so far, she hasn’t acknowledged her sin, repented, or changed her behavior in any way. 

Only then, does Jesus tell the woman that he knows all about her history.

Before Jesus talks about sin, Jesus offered her love.

    Over and over again, in encounter after encounter, this is the model that Jesus follows.  Before Jesus said anything to Zacchaeus the tax collector about sin, he honored him by entering his home and sharing a meal with him.

Love first. Religion second.

    I am not saying that religion and repentance are not important.  Jesus thought they were important.  These things did not get left behind at the side of the road.  Jesus came to earth, lived, died and rose again so that we could know about repentance and salvation.  But Jesus always showed people that he loved them before he told them that God desired for them to live differently.

    Before we tell our neighbors that they have a sin problem, we had better be sure that they know how much we love them.  Showing up at parades or funerals with signs saying that God hates somebody doesn’t pass the smell test.  Doing stuff like that doesn’t smell like Jesus, it isn’t at all the sort of thing that Jesus did.  Everybody hated Samaritans and tax collectors and they knew it.  The woman at the well and Zacchaeus expected Jesus to hate them.   They were surprised when he didn’t.  It was his surprising love for them that made them open to listening and genuinely hearing what he had to say next when he told them that there was a better way.

Loving your neighbor opens the door so that they can hear the important message that you are carrying.

The model of Jesus is this:

Love first.  Preach second.

So how about it?

Are you loving?

Detail: Are You Loving?

0 No, Mr. Oswalt, We Are Not All Good

    After the bombs exploded during the Boston Marathon, Patton Oswalt (from television sitcom the King of Queens) wrote a Facebook post that was quickly recopied and reposted around the world.  He said,

 “The good outnumber you, and we always will.” 

    This is a wonderful sentiment because Oswalt has already noticed that many people were running toward the explosion and not away from it.  People were not afraid as much as they were motivated to help those who had been hurt.  Finding this spirit and attitude in the American people is noteworthy and worthwhile.  I’m proud that we are not easily intimidated.  But after thinking about this, I realized that there was something bothering me.  Over time, I realized that ‘something’ was this: The good may outnumber the bad, but evil is never as far away as we would hope.

    I don’t mean to say that every human being is evil, but most of us are not as good as we like to imagine ourselves.  As hundreds of law enforcement officers were hunting down the bomber who was hiding in a boat stored in someone’s back yard, Patton Oswalt declares that most of us are good.  But are we?  After the bomber’s photograph had been discovered on surveillance tapes and distributed all around the world, what if he had been discovered sitting in a neighborhood bar or in some other public place?  I don’t mean, what would happen if the police discovered him, I mean, what would have happened if you or I were sitting at our neighborhood watering hole watching television and realized that the guy sitting next to us was the bomber we just saw on the news?

    Today, more than a month after the bombing, the chances are good that we would detain him until the police could arrive.  However, if he had been discovered in a public place the day after the bombing, it may well have been to coroner that came to get him instead of the police.

    Last month when Amanda Berry and the other girls were discovered in Cleveland, their rescuer, Charles Ramsey said something like, ‘It’s a good thing I didn’t know what he was doing next door or I would have gone over there with a baseball bat and it would be me the police were taking to jail.’

    I am a teacher of mercy, grace and forgiveness but if someone were to rape or murder a member of my family, they would probably be safer with the police.  That wouldn’t be the most Christian reaction, but I’m not sure how well I could control myself under those circumstances.

    Don’t get me wrong.  I’m just as inspired as you are by police, firefighters and others who run toward danger instead of away from it.  I’m glad that there are good people in the world who will rush to help a neighbor and that we come together as communities to help one another.

All I’m saying is this: We are not all good. 

There is darkness inside every one of us.

More often than not, the distance between good and evil is not nearly as great as we think.

Detail: No, Mr. Oswalt, We Are Not All Good