Belong

I took a photo of a plant outside the building for today’s creative meditation for Lent. The word prompt was “Belong.” The bold striped leaves have thrived despite everything a discouragingly cold winter could throw at it. Each leaf is growing in a different direction, but all are connected to the same root. All receive sustenance from the same source. It reminds me of belonging.

In the time when Jesus and the disciples walked the earth, belonging to a family or tribe or nation was important. None of this lone ranger, I-did-it-my-way stuff. Losing your place in a community was (and for most still is) a terrible punishment. Shame was both the cause and result of rejection. A person who brought shame on the family by an act considered to be disloyal was expelled. That’s why leprosy was a disease feared more than most. “Leper” has become a word synonymous with the opposite of inclusion.

For the majority of the world’s people, (and increasingly so in the West) belonging is more important than being right or wrong. It’s all about your connections, your family name, or your tribal identity. (Which may help explain why some people with extremely loose interpretations of the law are voted into positions of power.)

We call it “cancel culture” or “boycotting” now, but rejection has had many names in the past. Historically, those who failed to honour the group were banished, shunned, excommunicated, or disinherited.  It’s an effective tool for maintaining power and control. Various religious institutions have used it for ages. We see an example in the Bible when the parents of the man who Jesus healed of blindness were afraid to respond during the temple leaders’ inquest lest they be thrown out.

Jesus told his followers they could expect the same kind of treatment he experienced. What greater rejection could there be than the “honour killing” calls of “Crucify him!” that the mob in Jerusalem shouted?

Jesus took time to assure his followers they did belong. They belonged with him. Those who trust in him now also become part of the family of God and members of the household of faith. They are the called-out sons and daughters from every tribe and every nation who become one as part of the body of Christ. They grow from the same nourishing root.

Through Christ, we are not only forgiven, but welcomed into the family of God. One day we will be welcomed as the honoured, shame-free, guilt-free bride without spot or wrinkle at the marriage supper of the Lamb. This is where we truly belong. The Lover of our souls will never leave us or reject us. He promised.

For we were all baptized by one Spirit so as to form one body—whether Jews or Gentiles, slave or free—and we were all given the one Spirit to drink. (1 Corinthians 12:13 NIV)

Love

Recently I met a refugee family who has demonstrated love in a way that goes beyond the usual experience in North America. They come from a country where it is illegal to change religions or influence anyone to change religions. When approached by two young men who were looking for an understanding of God, a Christian man gave them Bibles to read. After they read about the God who loved us so much that he let his son die and overcome death so that if we believe in him we will have eternal life, they chose to follow the God of love. They found new life in Christ.

The consequences of assisting at the birth of this new life were dire for this man and his wife and children. They faced serious death threats. Even after they fled to another country, they were incarcerated, the mother and the children for a short time and the father for five years.

Conditions in that prison were appalling. The father endured great stress. The mother and children knew great hardship as well living without him in the home. And yet everyone in the family says their love for God grew most during this time as they experienced his faithfulness and provision. They are truly beautiful people, and the love of God shines through tears as they tell their story.

Today I thought about the way love takes the risk of birth. My granddaughter asked me if childbirth hurts.

“It does,” I told her, “But the reward is so great that most women who have given birth once choose to give birth again because they know the joy of seeing new life and that love is greater than pain.”

My mother nearly died giving birth to me. I heard the story many times. The physical consequences for her lasted a lifetime. And yet she chose to give birth to my brother even when a doctor warned she could face problems again. She did it out of love for someone who would not understand the significance of her willingness to suffer for him until many years later.

As I think about it, I realize that the greatest force in the universe is love. It was love that motivated Jesus to suffer, die, and overcome death. It was love that sent my new friend to those men knowing that he could suffer and even die for doing so. It was love that sent my mother to the delivery room for the second time knowing she could suffer like the first time, or even die.

It is love whenever someone is willing to extend themselves beyond a low-risk comfort zone to make it possible for new life to begin and grow. Only the love of God is strong enough to overcome the fear of suffering or even death and cause a person to know they are loved even in the middle of severe trials. We can love because God loved us and gave us first mortal life, then the opportunity for eternal life through Jesus Christ.

And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love. (1 Corinthians 13:13 NIV)

Creative Meditations for Lent, Word prompt: Love

Path

He restores my soul; He guides me in the paths of righteousness For His name’s sake. (Psalm 23:3 NASB)

I saw this brick path in a garden I visited this week. The pattern suggested a change in movement. Beside the path, a vine-covered gazebo offered the invitation of a place to stop and rest.

Jesus told his disciples that he wasn’t leaving them alone. The Holy Spirit was coming to comfort and to guide.

He is here, comforting, restoring, and guiding those who come aside and listen.

Creative Meditations for Lent, Word prompt: Path

Hope

“I pray that God, the source of all hope, will infuse your lives with an abundance of joy and peace in the midst of your faith so that your hope will overflow through the power of the Holy Spirit.”

(Romans 15:13 The Voice)

Photography has taught me to look for the beautiful in the midst of the ugly. Faith is teaching me to see joy and peace in the midst of a world full of anger and fear. It doesn’t deny the dead and decaying, but when it is focused on the lovely, and the good and the true that say, “Look! New Life!” faith creates a portrait of hope.

Shield

I’m using an old photo today because it fits so well. One day I was up in the woods praying, well complaining to God, actually.

“I feel like no matter which way I move, the way is blocked. I don’t understand what is going on. It’s like my hearing is muffled and I can see clearly enough or far enough to have a sense of which direction I should take. Everything I know to try is inadequate. I feel stifled and cramped in this place, and I don’t know what to do. What is this dark confining place? And what am I doing here? Where am I?

A still quiet, but firm voice answered, “Under my wing.”

I try to remember this when I feel the need to do something – anything, to fool myself into feeling like I’m in control, like I can rely on my own wisdom and see the eternal repercussions of a decision. Sometimes God is protecting me from the world, and sometimes I think he might be protecting the world from me — especially when I’m sputtering outrage.

Sometimes the safest place is when I am not insisting on being control and instead, I’m invisible to “fans” and “foes,” known and unknown. There’s a time to explore and there’s a time to run home. Sometimes, in those intense moments of choosing to respond to God, of choosing to agree to stay hidden in Him, and not giving away my position with a random self-defensive squawk, I remember this song using St. Patrick’s words. God’s love is a shield that has us covered front, back, side to side, and above and below. The song is called St. Patrick’s Breastplate. It’s also called the Deer’s Cry.

Christ with me, Christ before me, Christ behind me

Christ in me, Christ beneath me, Christ above me

Christ on my right, Christ on my left

Christ when I lie down, Christ when I sit down

Christ in me, Christ when I arise

Christ in the heart of everyone who thinks of me

Christ in the mouth of everyone who speaks of me

Christ in every eye that sees me

Christ in every ear that hears me

Christ with me

Voces8 sings Arvo Part’s setting. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ir3htl3UlBk&list=RDIr3htl3UlBk&index=1

March 17, 2022 seems like a good day to pay attention to it.

Creative Meditations for Lent, Word prompt: Shield

Wide

A bench down by the water is a good place to contemplate. Today’s prompt word reminded me of an old hymn by Frederick W. Faber. Here are some stanzas:

There’s a wideness in God’s mercy,
Like the wideness of the sea;
There’s a kindness in God’s justice,
Which is more than liberty.

There is welcome for the sinner,
And more graces for the good;
There is mercy with the Savior,
There is healing in His blood.

For the love of God is broader
Than the measures of the mind,
And the heart of the Eternal
Is most wonderfully kind.

Part of the Apostle’s Paul prayer for us in the letter to the Ephesians was this: And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. (Eph. 3:18 NLT)

Creative Meditations for Lent, Prompt word: Wide

Freedom

The Spirit of the Lord God is upon me,
    because the Lord has anointed me
to bring good news to the poor;
[
    he has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted,
to proclaim liberty to the captives,
    and the opening of the prison to those who are bound…

Isaiah 61:1

Not all captives are bound in chains. Not all prisoners are held behind bars. Jesus came to set us free from many things that keep our hearts and minds oppressed. Shame is one.

Guilt is feeling like I did something wrong. Shame is the sense that I am something wrong. To be shamed is to be rejected. Christ did not come with more condemnation, more impossible standards, more reminders that we don’t measure up. He came to reconcile us to the Father, and to set us free.

So if the Son sets you free, you will be free indeed. John 8:6.

Creative Meditations for Lent, Word prompt: freedom

Refine

Jesus leads us into a place of radical grace where we are able to celebrate the hope of experiencing God’s glory.  

And that’s not all. We also celebrate in seasons of suffering because we know that when we suffer we develop endurance,  which shapes our characters. When our characters are refined, we learn what it means to hope and anticipate God’s goodness. 

And hope will never fail to satisfy our deepest need because the Holy Spirit that was given to us has flooded our hearts with God’s love.” (Romans 5:2-5 The Voice)

One of my photo editing programs has a “kaleidoscope” feature. A photo processed through this app seldom resembles the original, but it’s fun to play with. I tried processing a photo I took of rubble from a building leveled by fire. The result caught my attention because I could see what looked like areas of engraved gold and silver set in a polished stone tile. That would be a luxury on the floor of any palace.

How precious are the foundations laid for us by saints of the past whose lives were refined by the fires of tribulation.  It’s a lot easier to appreciate the refining process in the after picture than in the middle-of-the-disaster picture. It’s easier to sing, “Refiner’s fire, my heart’s one desire is to be holy,” than it is to recognize a refining process, let alone cooperate with it. Yet suffering leads to endurance and to character. The ability to hope and anticipate God’s goodness lays a precious foundation for the next generation – especially in the middle of what looks like a disastrous mess.

Creative Meditations for Lent, Word prompt: Refine

Forgive

I thought I had forgiven, but it was hard. Every time some innocuous thing triggered a painful memory, I prayed hard to forgive again.

I thought I had forgiven, but I hadn’t. I forgave them for bumping into me and knocking me off balance. “There were extenuating circumstances,” I reasoned. “I’m sure they didn’t mean it.”

I thought I had forgiven, but I hadn’t. I thought I was just knocked over, but I wasn’t.

I couldn’t ignore the damage done. I had been trampled, broken. My trust lay in the dust in too many shattered pieces to fix. Even the desire to be the good person in this scenario was not a strong enough glue to hold my heart together. I wanted revenge. I wanted payback!

I made up an invoice and looked squarely at the cost of repercussions from their actions that played out for years.

“Oh God,” I cried. “This is too much! I can’t get by without what they owe me!”

“Take your hands off their throats,” He said. “I forgave you. When I was on the cross, I said ‘Tetelestai.’ It was finished. Done. All legal requirements met. I paid your debt. I paid their debt. Take your hands off their throats. Give up any expectation that they will someday apologize or give what they owe.”

“But how am I to live?”

“Empty your hands so I can fill them. I am your provider. I will give you everything you need.”

“Really?”

“Listen, beloved, I am telling you the truth.

I will give you what you need. I will even give you the trust you need to trust Me.

I give you My love first, so you can then love.

It all comes from Me.

It always has.”

Creative Meditations for Lent, Prompt word: Forgive

Stillness

Be still before the Lord
    and wait patiently for him;
do not fret when people succeed in their ways,
    when they carry out their wicked schemes.

 Refrain from anger and turn from wrath;
    do not fret—it leads only to evil.

Psalm 37: 7, 8 NIV

Creative Meditations for Lent, Word prompt: Stillness