A Liturgy of Love

Pieces and parchments
from mundane and above
phrase and fragments
a liturgy of love.

Moments and miracles
wandering amixed
sadness and longing
on his gaze I'm fixed.

Exuberant, exhausted
and all points in between
I turn from the past
for the future I've seen.

Shouted or whispered
it depends upon the day
hold me, dear Lord
guard my heart in this fray.

Tired and tangled
motives unclear
refine me, oh Lord
till I love thee most dear.

Beaten and broken
disappointments that wean
but taught at a cost
on whose bosom to lean.

Piercings and crushings
these wounds I know of
what keeps me alive
is a liturgy of love.

Shed The Cane

I had a strange dream last night, and it left me troubled enough in spirit to want to noodle it over here.

There were "evil" people. Doing "evil" things. And they were recruiting people to help. And they really didn't want or need the recruits to really understand what was going on. Oh, the recruits really had plenty of cues that something bad was afoot. Strangers don't give you stuff for no reason. There is always a motive behind the gift.

I found myself having been recruited. Owning "stuff" that I wanted and liked well enough... but I could tell that I was being used.

And I was almost at peace with it, since I knew I wasn't the "mastermind" behind the plot. Just a lackey who had accepted some gifts of dubious provenance which might end up used for questionable purposes.

And then a light flashed in my head. I could go to jail for this. Caught at the wrong place at the wrong time... my excuses will be worthless.

And I have children who need me.

I started shedding the "stuff" like it was on fire. I emptied my pockets and person of that "stuff" like it was radioactive.

But the last thing I found I still had on my possession was an ornate cane. The dream ended with me still in possession of it, but no longer wanting it.

After I woke up I found myself puzzling over the cane. I've never owned nor wanted a cane in my life. But I know what they're for. More than anything, they are (or were, anyway) an indication of wealth.

Sure, old people use them. Because they need them.

But why do (or did) young folk use them in bygone eras? To tell the world a simple message: "I'm so rich, I can carry a pointless stick in my hands." Day laborers have burdens to bear. They carry what they must and not much else.

It was only the rich who could carry canes while young. Or umbrellas on a sunny day. Thus the lyric from the old song:

Come let's mix where Rockefellers walk with sticks
Or "um-ber-ellas" in their mitts
Puttin' on the Ritz!

So as I reflect on this odd dream, I am struck by one strong thought...

What is today's equivalent of a cane?

Whatever it is... I don't want it.

Deal-Making and Sacrifice

Genesis 28:20-23 (abbreviated and bulletized)
Then Jacob made a vow, saying, “If God will
(a) be with me and will watch over me...
(b) and will give me food to eat and clothes to wear... so that
(c) I return safely to my father’s household...
then
(d) the LORD will be my God and
(e) this stone that I have set up as a pillar will be God’s house, and
(f) of all that you give me I will give you a tenth.

Two things leap out at me as I stare at this set of verses.

First off, it's very clear what Jacob stands to gain if God honors requests (a), (b), and (c). Not so clear what God ostensibly gains from (d), (e), and (f). Jacob is driving a pretty lopsided bargain. Par for the course, where Jacob the schemer is concerned.

Jacob gains a protective presence. A provider of all his needs. Safety. Wow! Powerful stuff!! Stuff any human would prize greatly!!

And God gains... ???? Jacob's acknowledgement. A stone for a house. And a tenth of Jacob's stuff. A tenth of what God gave to Jacob.

Stated another way, Jacob is promising God a negative ninety percent return on his investment of assets. This is not the sort of investment prospectus that will warm hearts in Wall Street! Invest in me, and I'll see to it that you lose 90% of the stuff you entrust to me. Deal?

But could Jacob have made a better offer? Therein lies the great mystery. No. Not really. What does Jacob have that God needs? What can Jacob offer in return? So while Jacob may be proposing a pretty uneven exchange, it's not like he's in a place to do better.

God doesn't need anything from us. Everything we have already belongs to him.

But let's examine that tenth more closely. Jacob promises to give God a tenth. A tenth of what? And to where? For what purpose?

There was no local charity near Jacob. He's a nomad in the desert. Red Cross doesn't exist yet. World Relief not yet formed.

There isn't a church, mosque or temple nearby. Not one of the three main religions behind these three words exists yet.

No charities... No churches... No NGOs! So exactly what does Jacob plan to do with the tenth? Well, it helps to remember what Jacob hopes to own: livestock.

Jacob likely (as I'm told by my reference materials) is speaking of animal sacrifice.

So what does God gain if Jacob sacrifices a pile of animals before him? Well, not to put too fine a point on it, but a pile of dead animals. Perhaps burned and crispy?

Our financial product is growing in clarity. So let's update that investment prospectus. We promise our investors regular losses of 90%. Ready to buy now? But wait! The 10% you don't lose, we promise to return to you in the form of a pile of dead animals. Excited to buy now? But wait!! Listen to this! That pile of dead animals? We'll burn them up for you at no extra cost.

Any takers in this new up-and-coming Wall Street livestock commodity fund?

What exactly does God do with a pile of dead animals? I think we all know the answer to that.

Nothing.

Again, a powerful conjunction of two realities. One, that we have little to offer. Two, that what we can offer... God doesn't need.

These two ideas help me to come to terms with a third powerful reality in my life — the fact that I have brought some pretty lousy sacrifices before the Lord over the years.

Gifts gone disastrous.

Money given "to the work of the Lord" that was never spent for anything better than the vainglory of man.

Time spent in an effort to "do something for God" that was, in hindsight, time invested into nothing more permanent nor more useful than the vainglory of man.

I might as well have spent the time digging holes in a field. And then refilling them.

I might as well have put piles of cash into one of those holes before refilling it.

Perhaps for emphasis I could have set fire to the cash first.

As crazy as that sounds, it's not far off from what Jacob would have done with his livestock offerings.

That's encouraging to me.

And sobering.

Encouraging? Because it reminds me that God knows my lowly state. My gifts to him, if given from a pure heart and for his glory, are a sweet aroma to his nostrils. God loves the lowly offerings of his little ones. Not because he needs them. But because he loves me. And he loves it when I try to love him back.

Sobering? Because I am so easily distressed about what happened to my gifts. Worked up because they were misused and/or misallocated by myself and/or the foolish people to whom I entrusted these precious resources.

If I truly knew how little God needed either my time or my money (My money? My time?) I wouldn't be so fixated on how they were misused down the line. But I am fixated. And it reveals a few things in my heart that need to change.

Imagine Jacob instructing one of his laborers to kill a certain cow and then to burn it. The laborer does so, but not according to instructions. Is God somehow short-changed in the final analysis? Is a properly slaughtered dead cow more useful than one done in by a (pardon the pun) hack job? How absurd!

Oh, sure, God may have something to say to the hired hand! Did the hired hand do his level best? Or did he discharge his duties carelessly?

But where Jacob is concerned, questions concerning the disposal of the cow are rather beside the point. God cares about Jacob's heart. If Jacob gave generously from a grateful heart, God is delighted. End of story.

And yet I don't have a lock on that truth. I fret over how well my sacrifices are presented to God. Because I think God needs my help. Because I think God needs my sacrifices. Does He?

He doesn't.

God, have mercy on me and free me of my slavery. I am slave to a notion that you need me and that you'll love me more if my sacrifices are "good" and "effective" — and I am wrong on both counts.

But I am slave to these notions. Free me to love you Lord. To love you as a clumsy child. Help me to not be afraid. You are not a perfectionistic parent. You love my clumsy gifts just as any doting parent would delight in their child's awkward pre-school craft creations.