Tag: beauty

A Thunderous Beauty (Psalm 68:24-35)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year BLeave a comment

Your solemn processions are seen, O God,
    the processions of my God, my King, into the sanctuary—
the singers in front, the musicians last,
    between them young women playing tambourines:
“Bless God in the great congregation,
    the Lord, O you who are of Israel’s fountain!”
There is Benjamin, the least of them, in the lead,
    the princes of Judah in a body,
    the princes of Zebulun, the princes of Naphtali.

Summon your might, O God;
    show your strength, O God, as you have done for us before.
Because of your temple at Jerusalem,
    kings bear gifts to you.
Rebuke the wild animals that live among the reeds,
    the herd of bulls with the calves of the peoples.
Trample under foot those who lust after tribute;
    scatter the peoples who delight in war.
Let bronze be brought from Egypt;
    let Cush hasten to stretch out its hands to God.

Sing to God, O kingdoms of the earth;
    sing praises to the Lord,
O rider in the heavens, the ancient heavens;
    listen, he sends out his voice, his mighty voice.
Ascribe power to God,
    whose majesty is over Israel
    and whose power is in the skies.
Awesome is God in his sanctuary,
    the God of Israel;
    he gives power and strength to his people.

Blessed be God! (New Revised Standard Version)

From psalm to psalm, the entire biblical psalter is consistent in praising God. Foremost among the praise is celebrating God’s inherent character, and for how that divine character acts with power and grace in the world.

Since God is an infinitely immense Being, our human language cannot begin to adequately contain or describe such incredible divinity. Yet, words are what the psalms have for trying to communicate the attributes of such an awesome God.

That’s why the use of metaphors is significant. Whenever we can picture something we are familiar with, then imaginatively place God alongside it, it helps give us at least a rudimentary idea and feeling of who God is, what God is all about.

To gain a glimpse of God’s majesty and sovereignty over the universe, the psalmist invites us to see with our spiritual eyes that God riding the sky; and to hear with our spiritual ears the thunderous shout that roars and reverberates throughout the cosmos.

Along with our eyes and ears, we are invited to respond by using our power of words and speech to proclaim God’s power. And, I must say, that power is well beyond our ability to describe.

With all of the powerful forces in this world, they are but a mere puff of breath to the God who reigns supreme over all powers, both in heaven and on earth. God’s power is a thunderous beauty. God’s splendor and strength rise larger than thunderheads.

Having grown up in Midwest America, I’ve seen my share of large thunderheads (massive cumulus clouds which form just before a storm), thunderstorms replete with bright lightning and noise so awesome it shakes the farmhouse, and tornados with such force that they rip the roof off a barn as if it were a Lego building.

God is bigger than thunderstorms and tornadoes – louder than any hurricane; stronger than any cyclone; and brighter than any flash of lightning.

The appropriate response to such a great God is to make music for the One who strides the ancient skies in a heavenly chariot; and yet stoops to listen and care about puny humans.

The reasonable response to such a breathtaking God is to listen to the divine voice thundering in the world, and submit to the sound which seems like it might split the heavens open.

To gain a mere glimpse of God’s strength and power will inevitably result in a response of giving up our all to the Lord of the universe – everything we have, and all that we are.

To know, even a tiny smidgeon, of such a God will bring our own loud shouts of proclaiming God’s goodness, grace, and generosity to anyone who will listen to us.

To glimpse what the psalmist sees will consume us with awe, as we intuitively connect with the glory which is constantly streaming from heaven.

What’s more, God shares divine strength with people. God doesn’t have to do that. The Lord has no obligation to do so. Yet, it happens, despite our fickle praise and inconsistent devotion.

So, let’s give our highest praise to the God of the psalms. Let’s imbibe of God’s thunderous presence among us.

I guarantee that it will make us happier than a gopher in soft dirt; or a butcher’s dog; or a unicorn eating cake on a rainbow.

Eternal Trinity – blessed Father, Son, and Spirit – the awesome God whom I serve: The more I enter you, the more I discover, and the more I discover, the more I seek you. A massive thunderhead is but a small cloud next to you, the Godhead, the incredible Three-in-One.

Through you, almighty Lord, I shall come to know myself and my world. And that knowledge is a mighty love for humanity which spans longer and higher than the universe itself. May the love, unity, harmony, community, goodness, and power which is always present within yourself, mighty God, be present with me, your servant.

For just a molecule of You is enough to power me for eternity. Praise the Lord! Amen.

One Thing (Psalm 27)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year BLeave a comment
And We Shall Dwell in the House of the Lord, by Dale Terbush

The Lord is my light and my salvation—
    whom shall I fear?
The Lord is the stronghold of my life—
    of whom shall I be afraid?

When the wicked advance against me
    to devour me,
it is my enemies and my foes
    who will stumble and fall.
Though an army besiege me,
    my heart will not fear;
though war break out against me,
    even then I will be confident.

One thing I ask from the Lord,
    this only do I seek:
that I may dwell in the house of the Lord
    all the days of my life,
to gaze on the beauty of the Lord
    and to seek him in his temple.
For in the day of trouble
    he will keep me safe in his dwelling;
he will hide me in the shelter of his sacred tent
    and set me high upon a rock.

Then my head will be exalted
    above the enemies who surround me;
at his sacred tent I will sacrifice with shouts of joy;
    I will sing and make music to the Lord.

Hear my voice when I call, Lord;
    be merciful to me and answer me.
My heart says of you, “Seek his face!”
    Your face, Lord, I will seek.
Do not hide your face from me,
    do not turn your servant away in anger;
    you have been my helper.
Do not reject me or forsake me,
    God my Savior.
Though my father and mother forsake me,
    the Lord will receive me.
Teach me your way, Lord;
    lead me in a straight path
    because of my oppressors.
Do not turn me over to the desire of my foes,
    for false witnesses rise up against me,
    spouting malicious accusations.

I remain confident of this:
    I will see the goodness of the Lord
    in the land of the living.
Wait for the Lord;
    be strong and take heart
    and wait for the Lord. (New International Version)

Just recently, I was reflecting on my vocational life with a friend. I realized that, for the majority of my adult life, I have worked at least two jobs at once. On top of that, for several years, I was also going to school. Even now that I have gotten older and (finally) pared my work life down to just one job, I still work in two different places, complete with different offices and staff.

For us Americans, this is like a badge of honor – that we can demonstrate what hard workers we are. Yet, there is also something quite unhealthy about all this work that leaves room for little else in life. Typically, our relationships suffer. And the relationship which suffers the most is with God.

The psalmist had a singular desire – one thing – that he wanted above all else.

It’s the same thing that the Apostle Paul wanted more than anything else in the world (Philippians 31-14); and the one thing Jesus said to the rich young ruler that he lacked (Mark 10:17-31). It’s the thing that Mary pursued, and the thing Martha neglected (Luke 10:38-42). The blind man discovered the one thing in his healing encounter with Jesus (John 9:1-34).

Perhaps we, especially in the United States, need a miraculous healing, not only from our compulsions toward work, but also from our collective spiritual attention-deficit-disorder. We need to be able to focus on the one thing that is needed above all other things – without any sort of multitasking.

Rather than adding another thing to our calendar, and just trying to work harder, let’s step back and reconnect with what is most important to us. What is your highest priority in life? That question isn’t only for me as an American; it’s for all of us everywhere.

It’s instructive that the one thing the psalmist doesn’t ask for is revenge, or judgment, or, at the least, some comeuppance and protection. Instead, he simply asks this: To dwell in the house of the Lord. That is, the psalmist, David, wants more than anything else to live fully in God’s presence – because when that happens, everything else falls into place.

The inherent nature of God is goodness and beauty. So, to be with God is to be surrounding by what is lovely and good. To be in God’s presence is to relax and know real security.

In this state, we are then able to get our bearings and remember the good deeds of deliverance the Lord has done in the past; the mighty acts of power God will show in the future; and are blanketed in the present with the reality that the world doesn’t cease spinning on it’s axis because I have only one job, or take a break, or turn off my cellphone for a day. I can do it without fear or anxiety because God is with me.

With renewed focus, I can center my schedule, my calendar, my plans, and all my decisions around the surety that God is with me; and that I can enjoy the Lord forever. After all, this is what the Christian season of Advent teaches us – that Jesus, our Immanuel, is God with us, come in the flesh for us and for our salvation. That is the one thing we need to know today.

Ever-present and ever-loving God, we plant the seeds that one day will grow. We water seeds already planted, knowing that they hold future promise. We cannot do everything; and so help us have a sense of liberation in realizing this, so that we are enabled to do one thing very well; to take joy in being part of the process; to see that taking some steps, and then rest, is enough. We see in part, yet you, O Lord, see all things in their entirety. We are open to being, not just doing, no matter that circumstances, through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

Known by God (Psalm 139:13-18)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year ALeave a comment

You are the one
who put me together
    inside my mother’s body,
and I praise you because of
the wonderful way
    you created me.
Everything you do is marvelous!
    Of this I have no doubt.

Nothing about me
    is hidden from you!
I was secretly woven together
    out of human sight,
but with your own eyes you saw
    my body being formed.
Even before I was born,
you had written in your book
    everything about me.

Your thoughts are far beyond
    my understanding,
much more than I
    could ever imagine.
I try to count your thoughts,
but they outnumber the grains
    of sand on the beach.
And when I awake,
    I will find you nearby. (Contemporary English Version)

We don’t really know God, as much as we are known by God.

And God knows us intimately, down to each individual chromosome in our DNA strand.

For me, the incredible thing about this very detailed knowledge about each one of us is that God still wants to discover even more about us, as well as to be known by us.

Yes, the cosmic Ruler of the universe wants to share in a relationship with you and me – to be known and to know – and delights in the whole process of perceiving us.

Perhaps this is why my highest aspiration in life is to know Christ better. This has been true of me throughout the entirety of my Christian life across the decades. Which is why one of my favorite places in the Bible (which, by the way, is God’s self-revealing knowledge of the divine nature) is from a fellow believer who aims for the same thing:

“Nothing is as wonderful as knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. I have given up everything else and count it all as garbage. All I want is Christ and to know that I belong to him…. All I want is to know Christ and the power that raised him to life. I want to suffer and die as he did, so that somehow I also may be raised to life.” (Philippians 3:8-11, CEV)

This sort of knowing is much more than intellectual understanding or cerebral information; it’s an experiential knowledge that requires the dialogue and interaction of a lived relationship with another. Love is the glue which bonds this kind of reciprocal knowing of two persons. Sheer learning, without love – which fuels relational discovery – is counterproductive.

“All of us know something…. But knowledge makes us proud of ourselves, while love makes us helpful to others. In fact, people who think they know so much don’t know anything at all. But God has no doubts about who loves him.” (1 Corinthians 8:1-3, CEV)

What we know about ourselves is weird and conflicting. Many of us know we are good persons doing good work in the world. And yet, we also know many of the dark places in our hearts, and this knowledge is a source of shame to us.

This was also true of the psalmist. He knew that he was a bundle of contradictions within a single person. However, he was willing to be vulnerable before God, knowing that the Lord sees him completely for who he is – including all of those shadowy places within.

Immaculate Conception Cathedral in Pucallpa, Peru

In fact, God does some of the best divine work in the dark. A masterful weaving of your body and soul was done in the deepest part of your mother’s physical self. Life truly is a hand crafted one-of-a-kind gift, given to us by God.

There are, of course, parts of us we really like – and parts of us we don’t like and maybe even despise – which may cause us to question the goodness and/or care of God by the way we were formed. It’s easy to fixate on what’s wrong, as if we have the right to a particular body. Yet, none of us are owed anything from the Creator.

But, my friend, I ask, “Who do you think you are to question God? Does the clay have the right to ask the potter why he shaped it the way he did? Doesn’t a potter have the right to make a fancy bowl and a plain bowl out of the same lump of clay?” (Romans 9:20-21, CEV)

Today’s psalm suggests to us that each individual human person, you and me, are God’s best work of art. There is no beauty quite like that designed and made by God. Beauty takes our breath away and elicits awe and wonder from us. We are made in the image and likeness of a beautiful God – so beautiful that if we were to actually see God, the sheer beauty would undo us.

God even treasures us at our worst. Although spiritual growth and development is a lifetime project, we don’t engage in it in order for God to take notice and accept us. It isn’t a self-improvement plan. Rather, our spiritual growth is to help us be in a position to know Christ better – just as flower opens to the sun for energy. God delights in spiritually forming us, as well as the creative process in physically making us.

The Lord’s thoughts of us are continual. God is immanently near and close to us. And this is the bedrock foundation of our faith – that we are known by a good God who cares about every hair on our head, or in my case, every molecule of my being.

The psalmist’s God is a God worth getting to know. This is a God who is with us when we fall asleep at night, and who is there when we awake, having kept watch over us throughout the dark after-hours. “I am awake. I’m still with you!” says the Lord as we are greeted for each new day.

So, may you truly know this God who knows you deeply and intimately.

May you come to know and love yourself, just as you are known and loved by God.

And may the grace of Jesus Christ, the love of God the Father, and the abiding encouragement of the Holy Spirit be with you, now and forever. Amen.

Ash Wednesday (Matthew 6:16-34)

On By Tim EhrhardtIn Christian Spirituality Blog, Daily Bible Reading Blog, Year ALeave a comment

“When you fast, do not look somber as the hypocrites do, for they disfigure their faces to show others they are fasting. Truly I tell you, they have received their reward in full. But when you fast, put oil on your head and wash your face, so that it will not be obvious to others that you are fasting, but only to your Father, who is unseen; and your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moths and vermin destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moths and vermin do not destroy, and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.

“The eye is the lamp of the body. If your eyes are healthy, your whole body will be full of light. But if your eyes are unhealthy, your whole body will be full of darkness. If then the light within you is darkness, how great is that darkness!

“No one can serve two masters. Either you will hate the one and love the other, or you will be devoted to the one and despise the other. You cannot serve both God and money.

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?

“And why do you worry about clothes? See how the flowers of the field grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, will he not much more clothe you—you of little faith? So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. 

But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well. Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own. (New International Version)

Traditional Ash Wednesday services focus on the brevity of life and remind worshippers that they came from dust and will soon enough return back to the earth, dust once more. For our many of our parents in the faith, Lent was typically a sad season in which they gave up something in order to prepare themselves for eternal life.

The salvation promised and hoped for led them to look away from the joys of Spring and the beauties of the earth. Faithful Christians, in generations past, trained their eyes on heaven, forsaking time for eternity.

Yes, life is serious and risky business, and no one gets out alive. Yet is salvation really all about escaping this world of constant grief and death? Or is it seeing everlasting beauty in each passing moment?

It could be that you struggle with Ash Wednesday services and the season of Lent precisely because of its focus on giving up something, or because when you were a kid this time of year seemed like such a downer. Maybe your typical approach to Lent in the past has been a shoulder shrug and a response of “meh.”

So, therefore, I want us to get a different take on the meaning of Ash Wednesday and look at it from a different angle.

I will take away the ashes on their head, and I will give them a crown. I will take away their sadness, and I will give them the oil of happiness. I will take away their sorrow, and I will give them celebration clothes. 

Isaiah 61:3, ERV

The uncertainty of life can invite us to praise and wonder, to seize the moment—for this is the day the Lord has made and I will rejoice in it! All that I love and care for is mortal and fleeting, but mortality is the inspiration to celebration and love.

This is the sort of approach I saw in a dear friend who died fifteen years ago from a very long struggle with cancer. Bea always found ways to rejoice in her suffering, to be attentive to the working of God around her, and to bless those who needed God’s grace more than she did. More than once I found Bea, in one of her many hospital stays, out of the bed and in someone else’s room playing her dulcimer (she had once been a music teacher) and singing a hymn of praise to a fellow patient.

This Ash Wednesday, I’m not only fasting and giving up a few meals a week; I’m also letting go of everything that keeps me from rejoicing in the passing beauty of the earth.

Yes, we are dust, but we are real earthly sacred dust. Dust is good, after all, emerging from God’s intergalactic creativity. We are frail, but we are also part of a holy adventure reflecting God’s love over thousands of years.

Ash Wednesday is a time for us to pause, notice, wake up, and discover that God is in this place. This day invites us to take a much needed break and open up to the precarious yet beautiful world in which we live. So in this season of Lent, I plan on considering the lilies and the birds of the air.

In some Christian traditions, the imposition of ashes is accompanied by the words, “repent and believe the gospel.” And that I plan to do this year. I plan to turn around and be more present to the moment, appreciating God’s grandeur, and believing the good news—the embodied, everlasting, beautiful, wondrous, and gracious good news of walking with the Lord who is with me, surrounds me, and goes before me and after me.

Pastor and author, Jan Richardson, lost her husband to cancer several years ago during the season of Lent. She chose to cremate her husband so that his ashes might remind her and her family that there is beauty in the dust.  She wrote the following poem at her first Ash Wednesday without him:

Blessing the Dust

All those days
you felt like dust,
like dirt,
as if all you had to do
was turn your face
toward the wind
and be scattered
to the four corners

or swept away
by the smallest breath
as insubstantial—

did you not know
what the Holy One
can do with dust?

This is the day
we freely say
we are scorched.

This is the hour
we are marked
by what has made it
through the burning.

This is the moment
we ask for the blessing
that lives within
the ancient ashes,
that makes its home
inside the soil of
this sacred earth.

So let us be marked
not for sorrow.
And let us be marked
not for shame.
Let us be marked
not for false humility
or for thinking
we are less
than we are

but for claiming
what God can do
within the dust,
within the dirt,
within the stuff
of which the world
is made
and the stars that blaze
in our bones
and the galaxies that spiral
inside the smudge
we bear.

Amen.