Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!

“It is of the Lord's mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.They are new every morning” - Lamentations 3:22-23

(The following is a reflection penned the night my mother died after I found out how a nurse’s aide had stayed by her bedside in the final hour or so of her life. This unsung stranger talked calm words and read the Scripture to my mom who could neither hear nor respond except in some unknown way. And so I paused to think of how our lives are marked by mercy from beginning to end, how we are defined and molded by mercy, and how it flows from a thousand unacknowledged sources to fill the hours of our days. May we marvel at its mighty and majestic work and be the willing agents of its spread.)

Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!
How vital to each individual human soul,
God’s rain to quench the drought,
That stretches back to Adam’s folly,
Falling patchwork style,
Upon garden hearts that look to unseen skies,
And wait precariously on mystic clouds,
Grown dark with promises of grace,
While mercy drops kick up the dust of our loose-lived lives,
With the portent of showers and floods to come.

Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!
How vital to each human heart,
From birth’s first cry for human touch,
To childhood needs too plentiful to count,
Where mother’s love and father’s care,
Sustain the fine thin line between,
The fruitful life or blasted barrenness,
And even in the grown-up land,
Grace must do its daily work,
Pulling sap to dizzying heights,
To keep the hillsides green and winter in its place.

Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!
How vital to each human end,
When houses, lands lie fallen by the way,
And life is narrowed to a single bed,
One closet with a week’s apparel,
And one small board stuck with colored pins,
That hold some frames of a life gone by;
Grace descends three times a day,
Where crusts of bread become as prized,
As bags of gold or grandpa’s watch,
And a dear one’s voice is gift enough,To keep alive the will to live, if only one more day

Mercy! Mercy! Mercy!
How vital to all human-kind,
Where total strangers mingle in,
And leave their mark in gentle ways,
They stop by bedsides, filling gaps,
In final vigils, or with simple acts,
They guide the floating bark as it departs;
One wipes a brow, one changes sheets,
One for pay, another just because,
Grace compels which no logic can explain,
To speak soft words, to read the Book of Books,
And thereby spend, the final hour in dark of night, alone,To keep an appointment set 93 years before.

anybody listening?

But if I say, "I will not mention him or speak any more in his name," his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot. Jer. 20:9 NIV

Have you ever wondered if anyone is listening? Teachers suffer this trauma on a regular basis but manage to put it out of their minds or else they will all become used car salesmen. Parents have to wonder, as well, when simple tasks that should be automatic go undone by their children. Wives know for a fact that husbands cannot recall a thing said over breakfast but that they can recall Roberto Clemente’s life-time batting average. Men would not notice if their male counterparts wore the same shirt 5 days in a row, which is comforting if you are a man. But it is maddening if you are a woman who labors over her choice of a daily outfit only to be totally ignored.

The truth is that someone is always listening, always observing. We have so little clue as to who that is and what gems are being stored away in another’s hard drive of memory. I post a Scripture verse out front most every morning and have wondered if anyone ever reads them. The other day, Mary C------ walked in the front door and made reference to the daily Scripture verse and knocked me off balance by saying, “I read those every day.” I felt as if I had been thoroughly and soundly rebuked!

A wedding invitation came in the mail the other day from a student I had ten years ago in a Bible class during a year of teaching that was permeated from start to finish with spiritual struggle that left me utterly drained. I have put much of that time out of my memory because of the daily fight to keep the plow in the ground and my eyes straight ahead. Doubts flooded over me regarding my ability, my calling, and my message. There were some good times, but the bad times are always more livid in our memories. Anyhow, I felt somewhat awed that I was even remembered with an invitation from a student way back then, but also, there was the scrawled note in the corner: “I can’t believe it’s been 10 years. I still have fond memories of playing guitar with you in Bible class (we sang Scripture songs). Thank you for teaching us God’s truth and striving to prepare us for the real world of ‘not-so-Christian world views.’ I will never forget you. It would be great to see you in May.” A ghost out of Christmas past would not have had any less effect upon me as those few lines. My Scrooge-like memories lost their hard-bitten edge as I was transformed by the thought, “Yes, somebody was listening.” But from there, it is one small step to reflect upon the notion that if my “widow’s mite” worth of witness touched another soul, then how much more could I have done or should have I done with the time and opportunity that were granted?

Once when I was working for TVA, a fellow employee relayed to me how someone else thought I was a bit crazy. I wonder that about myself quite often so I was quite ready to hear additional evidence. Instead, the explanation left me both pleased and scared. It appeared that one of my fellow workers was standing in line behind me in a hardware store as I made a few small purchases. Among those items were some small flashlight bulbs. His conclusion was simple. I must be ‘nuts,’ for anybody could simply walk away from TVA with all the flashlight bulbs they would ever need or want. Why would anyone go out and buy them? That episode haunts me to this day. Someone was watching. They caught me in a good deed for which I was thankful. How many have watched me when I was less than at my Christian best?

Yes, Virginia, there is someone listening, watching, observing. The reminders may be few and far between, but they are there. Our duty is to be faithful regardless of the crowd, the recognition, the response, or those spells of dull and defeating silence. Even a little light defeats darkness. Nay, pierces it.

Callings VII

“…for I have learned, in whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. I know both how to be abased, and I know how to abound: every where and in all things I am instructed both to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to suffer need.” Phil. 4:11-12

“The called man/woman of God is encouraged to embrace difficulty, danger, humility, or success, no matter what might befall them in their calling.” With these few and simple words, the Puritans put an iron rod of discipline into that warm, fuzzy feeling we call our life leading, professional inclination, or God’s call on our life. It is the part of hearing from God regarding a life vocation that is easily ignored or conveniently forgotten. Somehow we tend to focus on the self-fulfillment phase of discovering God’s leading in our lives. I talked to a man this week who takes young people camping and hiking as a full time outdoor recreation director. How thrilling it must be to do what one naturally loves to do and actually be paid to do it. And there is truth there that great joy can be found when operating in one’s giftedness for the glory of God.

But the other side of that picture is that God neither gifts us nor calls us for the joys of self-fulfillment. His callings are for service and His purposes. Self-actualization as a goal in life is perhaps one of the most cruel and poisonous philosophies spread about during my lifetime. It leads inexorably to the bizarre conclusion that, no matter what, God wants us to be happy. From there, all sorts of chaos proceeds.

When teaching our children about seeking their calling in life, the Divine Surgeon General’s warnings need to be firmly in place as well. Warning: your calling in life could entail calculated preparation and tedious study. Warning: your calling in life may entail great danger and opposition. Warning: your calling in life could entail loss and sacrifice. Warning: your calling in life could lead to a life of humble poverty. Who knew God’s call on his life more clearly than the Apostle Paul? And yet, he experienced homelessness, hardship, imprisonments, beatings, shipwreck, nakedness, peril, and ultimately an untimely death. His calling was not about self-actualization but about self-denial. This is a critical factor in following God’s callings for we do not measure the will of God or the validity of our calling by the degree of familial comfort, worldly success, or personal happiness we experience. Politicians are savagely attacked, pastors are beleaguered, teachers are tested, mechanics get bloody knuckles, mothers lose sleep, and missionaries are occasionally and casually martyred. When we know we are in His will, we will endure all things for the sake of the mission. This is what kept Noah working while the world laughed. It enabled David to face Goliath. It filled Shadrach and his friends with courage though the furnace was heated seven times hotter. And it will fill us ordinary folk with the steel we need to survive the rigors of our callings, no matter how strenuous, no matter what the opposition.

And last of all, there needs to be one more important caution. Warning: all degrees of success or fame are equally from God’s hand and are no cause for pride or self-satisfaction. Success can be even more deadly than tribulation. How many have fallen in the midst of personal triumph? Far too many. “The called man/woman of God will equally bear good and evil success as God shall dispense to him. If God prosper him, he had learned not to be puffed up, and if he should be exposed to want, he could do it without murmuring” (John Cotton). May we hide this wisdom in our hearts and those of our children.

Callings VI

“For he that is called in the Lord, being a servant, is the Lord's freeman: likewise also he that is called, being free, is Christ's servant.” -I Cor. 7:22

“The called man/woman of God, in serving God, serves men, and in serving men, serves God.”

In that simple phrase, we can sum up so much of what the early Puritans thought of the concept of a calling in life. It captures the spirit of Scripture so beautifully which says that inasmuch as we have served the least of our brethren, we have done it unto Him (Matt. 25:40). Our desire to serve God is not to be bound up in lives of cloistered penance and prayer. It is to be lived out in the daily market place where we interact with neighbors, friends, and rank strangers. The banker is to serve his customers as one who seeks to encourage and enable parents to provide shelter for their families, to aid businessmen in developing new jobs and opportunities, and to provide means of savings and investments for the future dreams of child and adult alike. Banking should never be seen as a means of personal enrichment and power. The clerk in a convenience store is there to assist the harried traveler with gas and a sticky bun or whatever to make life for the wayfarer more, dare we say it, “convenient” and to protect the assets of the owner. It is all about service to others who could always use a smile and encouraging word to go with that newspaper or cup of coffee. It is not about exerting the absolute minimum effort while counting down the minutes until shift change or foraging freebies at the expense of the company. The professional athlete dedicates his abilities and efforts to the success of his team and uses his public profile as a role model of good character for the greater good of his community. It is not about personal glory and grandstanding or a means of extorting larger and larger salaries to consume upon himself in gratuitous displays of freedom and excess.

When we and our children understand this, our perspective towards our jobs, towards developing our gifts and abilities should be touched, affected, and changed. We come up from the waters of baptism new creatures, regenerated to newness of life. We need to baptize our dreams of work and wealth, of study and education, of success and fame in the cleansing waters of humility and service. We serve God by serving men. Our work, our talents, and our abilities are means of worship to our maker. It is our reasonable service.

In so doing, we lay down our dreams of glory, our preoccupation with personal advancement, and our predisposition to seek positions of status. And the amazing thing is that when we do this, we find that the pressure to succeed that was driving us with such cruel force is gone. Contentment with our station in life is attainable. We discover joy in our labors that we never knew were there, and we can actually draw strength from the most menial of tasks instead of being drained by them.

Perhaps I am becoming a bit repetitious and tiresome in making this point. I risk it because it is the hinge upon which so much turns. To see work as worship, to see our calling in life as a means of service rather than a means to glory is a means of great freedom from the chains of this world’s values. It also restores the dignity of each person as worthy servants before the Lord no matter what tasks they perform in life. There will be those who will have great reward in heaven for the cups of cold water they have dispensed as sure as there will be those who have operated great levers of power and wealth in this life who will find themselves suddenly ashamed. May you find joy in your work this week, parent and child alike.