John 8 is often used as an example of people who profess belief but never really believed, I want to look at it as it stands: people who believe who refuse to be disciples. Now disciple is one of those archaic words that have religious overtones making it almost incomprehensible in modern day discussion. When dropped in conversation it automatically evokes images of a Jedi-like figure, hooded and dust-covered or of one of Christ’s Dozen. But “disciple” simply means someone who follows and molds their lives from the teachings of their teacher: a student.
Category: human
Why is it that the strong can prey on the weak and the rich can grow fat off the poverty-stricken while these can do nothing but pay alms to their better offs by sweating their last remaining strength and their enemies stand? Why is it that one can sing songs and pray prayers while remaining aloof in their thoughts and their actions are drenched in violence, with lofty words in their prayers and a loud tune on their lips?How is it possible that a man can live while constantly wrestling with the man he lives with? Why is it necessary for a man to struggle all of his days with himself. Consider it.
There is no goodness within me, my body wastes away, my mind melts within me: the man I am betrays me.
But Lord God, you are faithfully loving and you have formed me; even in my weakness, your thoughts dwell upon me: the man you wish me to be is ever before you.
The battle is fierce but you are a near help in times of trouble. This constant wrestling is dire but you live with the man who carries on. The songs are lofty and the prayers are prayed yet you will rise and take action: you will purge one of violence, of loftiness, of prideful sin.
The enemy will not stand and the poor will be made strong for you are a helper in time of need: You are good and you have plan for the man you wish him to be. We will consider it.
Inspired by Lingamish’s Cyber-Psalms
In D.C, a small choral group got together to practice. They were classically trained voice musicians excelling in chamber music and using this to minister to churches up and down the East coast. One young man in particular was exceptional in the group because of his perfect (or absolute) pitch; and yet this young man had to lower the volume of his voice when he sang.
What sort of teacher am I? Every now and then I get in a black funk where I start reexamining my motives or questioning any gift the Lord has granted or checking the barometric pressure of my big head and I sit off to the side, somberly reflecting. Maybe its that I’m tired (two kids plus one newborn can do that) or maybe its that I’m in a new area where my ministry has changed from working with urban minority teens and college age folk to working mostly with rural, white over-sixty year olds that’s causing this reflection. I don’t know what’s causing it but this time I decided to write it down.
Evolution is a funny word that gets bandied about. Saying it in different context evokes different responses, sometimes laughter and sometimes justified anger. In fact, I’ve been in conversations where a person is using evolution in one sense and me in a completely different sense and both of us have gotten riled up until we pinned down our terms.