Doctor Mom

So, I am on Day 8 of suffering from a sinus infection and have resolved to go to the doctor in hope of getting some anti-biotics to combat the evil-biotics that presently hold power in the front of my head. Pondering this decision caused me to remember how my mother dealt with different cold symptoms for my siblings and I.

There was the Vick’s Vapor Rub; every kid’s first experience with menthol back in the 60’s. That stuff was the closest thing to magic with its combination of warmth, intrusive vapor, and exotic smell.

Then there was the combination of honey, lemon juice, and whiskey, mixed by the tablespoon, for coughs. Again, another mysterious combination, this time of something fabulously sweet, incredibly sour, and absolutely forbidden. 

And for the most part, these worked, at least temporarily but the experience lingered in pleasant memory as we would lie in bed having been dosed by one or had the other rubbed shaman style on our chest.

Inherent in these rituals and connected to their efficaciousness was trust. Momma was taking care of us.

But not all of her remedies worked as well as she thought. Somewhere along the way our mother discovered another concoction for chronic coughing that involved boiled onions mixed with cane syrup. This mixture was then placed in the refrigerator where it stiffened into a sticky mass. The application was to take a spoon and cut a lozenge size dose and then slowly suck on it to relive throat irritation and thereby end the constant cough.

And you know what? It worked. In fact it worked so well that after that first and only time I ever put that ‘medicine’ in my mouth…my mom never heard me cough again.

So today when I go to the doctor if he happens to mix me a drink of lemon, honey, and whiskey, I’ll lift the glass. If he wants to apply some concoction on my chest, I will happily remove my shirt. But if I catch the aroma of sickeningly sweet onion…I’m outta there.  

Have Yourself a Merry Christmas

I just got Jeffery Meyers’ commentary on Ecclesiastes in the mail and found it interesting that he introduces the reader to this book with observations from the Christmas Season:

        

Families are gathering for annual feasts. Dazzling decorations have been strewn over buildings, homes, and even doghouses. Bright lights, evergreen boughs, multi-colored bulbous ornaments, and glittering silver strands of garland garnish windows and doorways all up and down the street. It would seem from all outward appearances, that everything is right in the world, that peace and joy reign supreme.

         But as everyone knows, colorful Christmas decorations often mask dark depression for many people. Even though the feast of Christmas ought to be a time when even those who have much to be troubled about experience a ray of divine joy and happiness around the table with relatives and friends, oftentimes the season itself exacerbates people’s problems. How can this be?

         The Christmas holiday season has been increasingly cut loose from its foundation in the Bible and Christian tradition. Modern Christmas seasons provide us with little more than sentimental, syrupy niceness and nice thoughts about a mistily-glowing baby Jesus. All we are left with is the commoditization of vague religious sentimentalism. There is no spiritual power in this. What’s worse, because of this the Christian faith seems, to many in our culture, little more than an attempt to stir up comforting religious feelings to mask one’s real troubles with the world. But this is so far removed from the Bible and genuine Christian tradition that it has to be considered another religion, one that plays make-believe with the dirty realities of this life.

This is a deep application of how the significance of what Christmas means, and needs to mean, can be lost.

As I read this I immediately felt—Yes, Jesus has come and all is well! Of course that is easy for me to say. I am happily married; my wife and I have five great children. I have a good job. We have food, clothing, shelter, and friends.

But I wasn’t thinking of myself when I was overcome with this joy and gladness. I was thinking of those who I know, and know of, who are alone or sick or poor. I was, pardon me, speaking for them, smiling for them.

I was happy for them. I am happy for us all. 

Isn’t that what the coming of Jesus is suppose to accomplish? After all, we don't live 'under the sun' but in the glow of that star that was shining over Bethlehem.    

Courage & Comfort

Tomorrow morning I will once again fill a pulpit to preach God's Word.
This is, and has always been, a scary task for me and I pray each time that the Lord will forgive my 'getting in the way' because I know that I do.

Ah, but coming to the Communion Table is a incredibly different experience. I know that I belong there.

I have never doubted recieving the forgiveness of God but I have, at times, questioned why He called me to the ministry.

Man in the Mirror

I had an encounter recently with my chief nemesis. He is well known to me and some of you have had occasion to meet him. He is not my favorite guy but he is always challenging when he is not being morose or too cavalier.

“So,” he says to me, “what is driving your life?”

“What do you mean?” say I, for it is apparent that my adversary is armed with agenda.

“You know my life quite well,” I continued. “You know how I live and what I do and what my vocation is.” As I said these words I tried to look deep into his eyes with all the conviction I had. He didn’t even blink.

He looked away—purposely and then as he turned his gaze back to meet mine I knew it was coming…“So, are you maintaining the Ideal or moving toward the Ideal?”

Do you see what I mean about this guy? This is how he is. Always making me second-guess my priorities and evaluate the trajectory of my life. Our relationship over the years has been profitable in that I tend to listen to him more than just about anyone else and it isn’t because he is the wisest person I know, but more because he listens to the wise and tends to assimilate their thinking into principle. So I am appreciative of the fact that we occasionally have these tete-a-tete sessions. But they are never easy and furthermore, they tend to alter my life, which can be and usually is, uncomfortable.

“I’m not sure what you mean or quite get your distinction between ‘maintaining the Ideal or moving toward the Ideal’…aren’t they the same?”

“That depends on your flexibility.”  He answered with a grin.

Now if a person knows that you play the odds then they also know when their hand is likely to beat yours. This is a very happy time for them and it is when they grin that you realize that the chips are all in and now it’s too late.   

“I’m flexible,” I bluff…in hope.

“Really, then what are some of your Ideals?”

“Well, let’s take Courtship for instance.” I offered.

“You mean like Ruth bundling with Boaz?” he snarked.

“Homeschooling.” I parried.

“You know, don’t you, that Moses was educated by Egyptians?” he countered.

“Liturgy.” a thrust.

“Would you include any songs or music written by another ‘failure’ like King David who had a rap sheet that included adultery and murder; not to mention a very dysfunctional home? Or perhaps worse, would you lower yourself to sing anything written in the last 20 years?” His eyes were flashing.

“Agrarianism. The simple life.” I shot back. I was determined not to yield.

“Poor in spirit.” He stated quietly. And it was then that I knew I had lost.

We stood there for a while. He had won but he looked tired and a bit sad. And it was then that I realized that he always won but never at my expense. Somehow, I always took the winnings home.

When he finally spoke again it was with great care and concern. “Laurence, if you spend your life trying to maintain the Ideal then what you are saying to yourself and to everyone else around you, your wife, your children, your friends, your congregation is that you have arrived. Laurence, no one in this life ever arrives; though the Pharisees thought they had. And, my friend, that particular group had THE IDEAL put to death on a cross.”

Our encounter, our conversation was over.

I left the room and have been reflecting on his wise words for some time now and I think that I get it.

None of my ideas are bad. In fact, they all are quite good. His argument wasn’t, after all, against any of my ideas but the way I held them so very tight. What was it that he pointed out? It was that maintaining the Ideal and moving toward the Ideal are the same only if you are flexible…able to allow the plan and providence of God to take your ‘good’ so that He can give you His ‘best’.

After that, He poured water into a basin and began to wash the disciples’ feet, and to wipe them with the towel with which He was girded. Then He came to Simon Peter. And Peter said to Him, “Lord, are You washing my feet?”

Jesus answered and said to him, “What I am doing you do not understand now, but you will know after this.”

Peter said to Him, “You shall never wash my feet!”

Jesus answered him, “If I do not wash you, you have no part with Me.”

Simon Peter said to Him, “Lord, not my feet only, but also my hands and my head!”

Ref Fest 2014

• Reformation Festival

'Together' & 'Bread'

I have just started reading, A Meal With Jesus by Tim Chester.
Just two pages in:
      "Few acts are more expressive of companionship than the shared meal…"
      "The word 'companion' comes from the Latin 'cum' (together) and 'panis' (bread)."

I got the recommendation for this book from Francis Foucachon who is an ardent missionary as well as a 5-Star chef.

Thinking it's gonna be good.

As you rise up, as you walk by the way, as you run errands...

Ethan, who just finished reading Vern Poythress' Christian Interpretations of Genesis 1, related to me that one subject that was broached but not answered was, "Why did God rest on the 7th Day?" Ethan then went on to offer an answer to that question. 'Rest' doesn't mean that God was tired but that he was pleased…like a painter viewing his finished work. 

I agreed. Rest implies satisfaction, pleasure.

Then I pointed out that when we say that God rested what we mean is the Trinity. The three persons of the Godhead 'rested'. The rest was communal.

Through my son's initiation into this subject I started reflecting on the fact that on the Sabbath, we too should be looking back on our recent six Days with pleasure and satisfaction. Our 'works' (words, thoughts, deeds) should be something that we, too, can look back at with a righteous pleasure each week.

Pretty good conversation for just taking the trash to the dump.