Moms, Who Slay Dragons

Rubber boots on and lunch pail in hand, my son left for work. After a goodbye kiss he trotted toward his tricycle. My four-year-old son Russell pretended to go to work, like his daddy. I went back inside my home, but within ten seconds the back door flew open, and Russell's ashen face appeared.

     “A snake, a snake!” he shouted. Following his point, I saw a water moccasin coiled by our whitewashed gate. I had a shovel handy and slew the reptile, but my son’s fear of snakes intensified that day.

     Several years later when Russell was eleven, he gave me a handmade card. The front declared “HAPPY MAMA’S DAY.” He penned this message inside: “Dear Mom, Thank You For Killing The Snake When I Was Four Years Old! Happy Mother’s Day.” In the lower left corner he drew a huge star and labeled me a “GOLD STAR SPORT.”

     Even though my children are adults, I keep dogging their Enemy, “that ancient serpent called the devil” or the “great dragon” (Revelation 12:9). Praying for children remains a mother’s lifetime calling, a privileged humble activity. When mine were toddlers, I got up in the middle of cold nights and tiptoed into their rooms to pray and make blanket checks. During the teenage years, I quietly went into their rooms to pray as they slept. Often, when they were away from home, elementary school to college, I went into their rooms, sat on their beds and prayed for my son and daughter.

     Blanketing these adult children with prayer is now a priority. Even if I’m miles away physically or in our relationship, I can still touch their worlds and influence the chapters in their new families. Petitions from moms, dads, and grandparents prompt God to move obstacles, draw road maps, or instill peace.

     On my grandmother’s very last visit to my mom’s house, their physical roles reversed. One evening, Mom helped Grandma put on her nightclothes. Then Dad lifted my wheelchair-bound grandmother onto the bed. Afterward Mom fussed over her, smoothed the bedding and kissed her good night.

     A little later when Mom walked through the dark hallway, she heard Grandmother speaking softly. Mom peeked in to see if she was okay and found Grandmother wasn't talking to herself. She was speaking to her Father, praying for her adult children by name. Feeble in body, but strong with a mother’s spirit, she was slaying dragons.

Hunger for humility (19): “The great dragon was hurled down—that ancient serpent called the devil or Satan, who leads the whole world astray” (Revelation 12:9).

Prayer Walking--Not a Gimmick

A church of my childhood hosted a VBS and advertised in the community. The handout consisted of a white cardboard church building with times and dates and a plastic strip attached to the paper. When I dragged my thumbnail across the strip, it emitted a high-pitched sound saying the name of our church -- a gimmick from the 1960s.

            Junior high students enjoyed going door-to-door and giving those out as we invited neighbors to summer Bible classes. I don’t know if the squeaky speaking strip fascinated potential visitors or just the young teenagers. Another way to reach a community about the good news of Jesus Christ is the humble acts of prayer walking.

            Prayer walking may be new to some Christians. It’s not a gimmick. We’ve probably all done it at one time or another whether we labeled it as such or not: walking a hospital hall -- praying. Walking in your home -- praying. Riding in a car – praying.

            However, planned prayer walking is an effort in proximity. Navpress PrayKids newsletter describes prayer walking as “getting nearer to pray clearer.” On-site praying exercises selfless prayer. Walk a basketball court in your neighborhood, praying for the players. Walk the perimeter of your workplace, inviting God’s presence. Walk near a county jail and pray for inmates. Skilled nursing centers, the courthouse, or police and fire departments—give thanks for medical professionals and public servants. Pray for calm in their lives and recipients.

            God can hear requests for Bulgaria from a New York apartment, so prayer walking is not for God’s benefit. We don’t have to stand in an exact place to ask God’s grace. The walking and praying benefits both the pray-er and the prayed-for. 

            A forward-thinking scripture to pray is that people will recognize Jesus and that the time will soon arrive when “every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father” (Philippians 2:10-11).    

            At the unemployment office, pray for those out of work. Pray at a military base or anytime you see the familiar camouflage fatigues of troops in airports or malls. At a movie theater, pray for godly entertainment. Find the highpoint in a city and pray for Christians to light the community. Walking through your day, watch for countenances that seem stricken with worry, bless the bearers with a silent prayer. At a senior citizen center, pray for the elderly.

            In the movie “Sarah, Plain and Tall,” widower Jacob Whiting placed an ad in a newspaper, for a wife and mother: “someone who will make a difference.” Every person on earth could benefit from “someone who will make a difference.”

            Pray near church campuses in your community asking for unity. At popular night spots, pray for the singles in the city. At tax offices pray for wise use of taxpayers’ funds. As you walk the street past your neighbors, pray for peace in their families.

            When a person or group prayer-walks, the act is not an attention-grabbing public spectacle. It’s a private stroll, a practice in humility, much like the setting of the Garden of Eden when God met and talked with Adam and Eve in “the cool of the evening.” Prayer says, “I can’t do enough, be enough, or earn enough to make things better in this world, Lord. I need your supernatural help.” 

            This week, wherever you walk—business, pleasure, or errands—notice your surroundings and in humility pray for your “neighbors.”    

            Hunger for Humility (16): “The Lord bestows favor and honor; no good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless” (Psalm 84:11).

            Comments welcome www.cathymessecar.com

Don't Finagle Conversations

Right before the tornados hit the Dallas area last week my connecting flight left DFW Airport for Nashville, Tennessee. Soon, the winds favorably brought me within the embrace of friends’ arms, John and Beverly. We first met in 2006, and through the convenience of Email, cell phones, Facebook, and blog posts, we’ve kept in touch and become close friends. I spent three nights and days with them while Bev and I worked on a year’s worth of daily devotionals she wrote for cancer patients and family members, and caregivers.

            Later, I listened as Beverly talked with her doctor and described our conversations as “soul searching.” Some of them were. They had to be. You see, Beverly is at the tail end of eight years of fighting abdominal cancer. She’s endured five surgeries and additional stents and ports implanted. After undergoing three FDA approved chemo treatments and five experimental trials, she hopes her efforts will assist in curing her cancer and aid others.

            Without giving you intimate details, allow me to say that Beverly remains one of the brightest, strongest, and most positive women I know. Her humility and reliance on God astounds me. Her honest airing of her feelings refresh me. A female version of Job, even miserable in her skin, she refuses to say God has cursed her. She continually praises him.

            She has lost her hair numerous times, along with her fingernails, eyebrows, and eyelashes. With poise, she has endured indignities for the sake of future cancer patients -- indeed her willingness may save you or someone you love.

            I gave you the background of our friendship and her struggles to assist in introducing Jeremy Taylor’s (1613-1667) sixth rule for living humbly. In the language of his day, “Never speak anything directly tending to thy praise or glory; that is, with the purpose to be commended.”

            Through Beverly, I know exactly what Mr. Taylor wrote about in rule number six. Oftentimes, an opportunity might arise in conversation to spotlight some good deed she has done. However, Beverly needs no attention – no public applause. The heavenly Father knows all her charitable thoughts and deeds, and he generously rewards all who seek his praise alone. She remains content with God’s praise alone.

            How would it feel to go one week without compliments from others? Would you starve for affirmation? Why isn’t it enough for God alone to know about the times we succeed in charity? Yikes, I shudder to think how often I’ve thrown sparkle dust in a conversation about myself, so others would ask about my current works. In “Soul Work: Confessions of a Part-Time Monk,” Professor Randy Harris writes about power play in language. He says that postmodern theologians and philosophers believe that almost anything we say is an attempt at power play, to get the upper hand. He says he will not go that far in his assessment of our conversations. However, he does believe this, “We manipulate people and conversations to come out in a way that is agreeable to us.” Some examples are times that people ask us difficult questions: we answer how we want to, and avoid a direct answer or indictment of ourselves.

            Harris goes on to say, “We manipulate conversations to stroke our egos.” Have you ever tried to move a conversation into an area of your expertise? Alternatively, another example, if you receive a compliment on organizational skills, do you point to a messy area showing the messy flipside of your life? Then the complimentary person feels compelled to build you up by lavishing more kudos on your managerial skills? When receiving a compliment, it’s best to simply say, “Thank you,” and let the compliment float away. At home and in business, it’s sometimes necessary to communicate what we do, but always check your motives, don’t let praise from others be the design of your heart. It’s no wonder that so many Bible scriptures advise “silence.” Jesus reminds those who had ulterior motives, “For the mouth speaks what the heart is full of” (Matthew 12:34).

            My friend Beverly writes about her cancer journey at “John’s Wife,” (Blogspot), not for compliments or applause, instead she writes to help others grace their own turbulent storms. This week pay attention to your conversations. Listen a lot, that alone guarantees less language faux pas.

            Hunger for Humility (15): “Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak” (James 1:19).

            Comments welcomeher or at www.cathymessecar.com  

Light Always Wins

During the last week of Jesus’ life on earth, there are references in the gospels about darkness, both nighttime and an evil blackness. Historical documents also mention the three hours of unnatural darkness while Christ was on the cross, one even written by Pontius Pilate.

            The elements that came together and brought about the crucifixion of Jesus included folk with dark evil souls. Judas, one of Jesus’ closest companions, showed his true color. When Jesus and the disciples gathered for the last supper, the Master said, “One of you is going to betray me.” Startled by his announcement, the disciples wanted to know which one of them would do so. Jesus identified Judas as the betrayer.

            “Then, dipping the piece of bread, he gave it to Judas Iscariot.  . . . As soon as Judas took the bread Satan entered into him” (John 13:26, 27). Judas then left the upper room and the Apostle John closes the scene by writing, “And it was night.”

            In Gethsemane, Judas assisted in identifying Jesus to the unruly crowd, and the Son of God was arrested under the cover of darkness. That night Jesus said to his captors, “Every day I was with you in the temple courts, and you did not lay a hand on me. But this is your hour—when darkness reigns” (Luke 22:53).

            The next day throughout a bright morning, Jesus hung on a cross, but then a solemn darkness settled over the earth at noon. Crucified about nine in the morning, Jesus was on the cross for six hours, and during the final three hours, an abnormal “darkness came over the whole land until the ninth hour, for the sun stopped shining” (Luke 23:44).

            Through correspondence, independent witnesses later corroborated that the sun didn’t illuminate the earth for three hours. Tertullian wrote to the Roman senator Proculus: “The light of day was withdrawn, when the sun at the very time was in his meridian blaze . . . you yourselves have the account of the world-portent still in your archives!”

            Another account of the withdrawal of sunlight is in a report Pontius Pilate sent to Tiberius, emperor of Rome. “There was a darkness over the whole earth, the sun having been completely hidden, and the heaven appearing dark, so that the stars appeared.”

            Pilate further wrote, “I suppose your reverence is not ignorant of, because in all the world they lighted lamps from the sixth hour until evening.” He also wrote “the moon, being like blood, did not shine the whole night, and yet she happened to be at the full.” The unusual darkness must have been unnerving, frightening. Did God clothe the cross in darkness because he couldn’t bear the world gawking any longer upon the suffering perfect Son? 

            On that long ago Sunday at dawn, when devoted women went to Jesus’ tomb an angel said to them, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you are looking for Jesus, who was crucified. He is not here; he has risen, just as he said” (28:1, 5, 6).

            Centuries before Jesus came to earth, Isaiah prophesied: “The people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned.” The refreshment of a clean start is the promise made at the empty tomb of Jesus. 

            From the cradle to the cross, read Jesus’ story. His total goodness has a way of shining into dark secrets and dispelling shadows. God draped darkness over the evil deeds of the cross, but Sunday dawned and Jesus rose from the dead, proving his power and giving us hope.

            Light always wins. Light always overcomes darkness.

            Hunger for Humility (14) “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me (John 14:6).

      

Who's Chiseling Jesus?

In 1495 in a convent dining room in Milan, Italy, Leonardo da Vinci, dipped the bristles of his brush into paint and began a masterpiece high upon the wall. This began his commissioned work of the last supper, 15 by 29 feet, covering an entire wall. A known procrastinator, he finished three years later.

            His art, on that occasion was not the only portrayal of Christ at the last supper. However, Leonardo’s Last Supper wins acclaim as the first depiction to show the disciples displaying real emotions. The scene records his interpretation of the disciples’ reactions to Jesus’ announcement that one of the twelve would betray him. Their collective countenances reflect questions, appall, and denial. 

            Over the years, the painting gradually deteriorated as paint flaked and dirt and grime settled upon it. Further damage occurred when a construction worker stood in the room behind the painted wall. Not quite aware of his exact location in the convent, he proceeded to open up a wall for a doorway. He chiseled out the opening about mid-center of the wall, pushed plaster aside, and when he walked through his roughhewn doorway, he discovered he had ripped out the bottom portion of the painting that showed Jesus’ feet beneath the table.

            In Leonardo’s Last Supper, the disciples focus on the central figure of Jesus, very fitting. The apostle Paul wrote about that meal: “The Lord Jesus on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, ‘This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me’” (1 Corinthians 11:23).

            Some Christians eat this “remembrance” supper each Sunday, while others do so at regular intervals or gatherings such as funerals and weddings. Each time Jesus meets believers at the table, the mutual time together offers opportunities for believers to look to the past, to the future and inward.

            Looking back one might choose to remember the everyday Jesus, who brushed tears away with his fingertips, nurtured whole villages, or chucked children under their chins and held them in his lap. In addition, one might remember his ultimate sacrifice, his display of forgiveness to those who harmed him, and his call for his followers to forgive as he did.

            Looking forward one might choose to pray for more workers as Jesus instructed, or pray for revival of goodness and honoring of God among humankind. Pray the movement forward that Jesus’ loving kindness could invade homes, churches, communities, governments, workplaces, and schools, so peace remains prevalent. Pray a better world forward where purity and peace prevails. Pray that Jesus becomes the standard for imitation not Hollywood.  

            Finally, during the meal with Jesus, look inward for traces of betrayal of the best friend you could ever have. Search to find out if Jesus’ example is the standard for your personal behavior. Explore your thought life. Does pride reign there, or humility, considering others before self? 

            Like the construction worker, we can chisel away at the image of Christ in us, until we no longer resemble our Savior. Consider this: “Here I am! I stand at the door and knock. If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me (Revelations 3:20). Written to believers, not unbelievers, what’s the key to answering his knock on our doors? From relationship and feeding on the Holy Bible, know his voice, his prompts, his way, and always leave the door unlatched for easy entrance.

            Happy Palm Sunday.

            Hunger for Humility (12): “Christ in you, the hope of glory.” (Colossians 1:27)

Ever Ashamed?

In the movie “Sweet Home Alabama,” the female lead Melanie Smooter (Reese Witherspoon) from Alabama, has a successful career in New York as a fashion designer, however, she changed her name to Melanie Carmichael. As the movie progresses, it’s obvious she’s ashamed of her birth state, since her move to the mental state of hoity-toity. Plenty of fictional stories and true stories stem from the theme of embarrassment because of one’s heritage, family, or education level.

            This week, we’re considering the fifth rule for humble living, written by Jeremy Taylor (1613-1667). In his words, “Never be ashamed of thy birth, or thy parents, or thy trade, or thy present employment, for the meanness or poverty of any of them.” Taylor gave one example of a monarch who kept a reminder of his humble beginnings: Primislaus, the first king of Bohemia, kept his country-shoes always by him, to remember his humble beginnings.

            The setting in Matthew 18 and Luke 9, finds the disciples of Jesus, adult men, arguing about who will be the greatest in Jesus’ kingdom. In addition, in Mark 10, the disciples James and John asked for positions of power, to sit on the right hand and left hand of Jesus. Perhaps they wanted to be advisors to God as we so often do.

            Jesus provided the perfect application lesson for his disciples when he called a child into their midst. His kingdom was out of this world, not like the hierarchies of that day or ours. His would be an upside-down kingdom, where those who had child-like spirits would reign -- no ruling over subjects, everyone equal in service to each other. Background or status simply wouldn’t matter.

            Jesus was a master teacher when using visual aids. Among a group of hearty, enthusiastic, hardworking men, Jesus called attention to a child to aid their understanding. This became a multi-layered teaching moment, but today, we’ll consider one aspect: the mindset of a young child, who is content to be alive. A child doesn’t care where they were born or if his parents are uneducated, poor, or unattractive. The little one hasn’t rubbed elbows with the world long enough to become tainted by false values.

            A child remains content to fulfill childhood destiny, to live, learn, and thrive where they are. They do not seek acclaim. They aren’t hiding their heritage or parentage. They have no occupation other than to abide and do what children do. Unencumbered by supposed symbols of success (money, power, rank), they rely upon their caretakers and for a few short years they naturally live out humility. Still lowly in status, God stays near. The kingdom is near to them for the lowliest is the closest to God.

            Fix in your mind the picture of a ladder, with humility representing the bottom rung and pride and self-exaltation representing the highest rung. Imagine a young boy who starts out at the lowest rung, humble by nature of his age and innocence. However as the world influences that child, he begins to see that birthright, education, and rank can move him up the ladder, and he begins to want to look good in the eyes of his fellowman. At some point in that young man’s life, he may see that Jesus calls him to climb down the ladder, back down to the lowest rung.

            While our imaginary boy may attain rank and a higher education and acquire wealth, he finds true strength in not calling attention to them. His battle to stay on the lowest rung, being the least in the kingdom of God, serving instead of being served will be a lifelong calling, a lifelong struggle. Climbing down, after achieving much in life, will be difficult but well worth the many efforts. Why? Because peace, sleep, and wisdom come as gifts to those who embrace God’s kingdom morals.

               In a parable about a wedding guest, Jesus advised the guest to sit in the lowliest seat because if the guest chose the best seat in the house a person of higher rank might come in and the host would ask the guest to move to a lowlier place. However, if the guest chose a lowly seat to begin with, he wouldn’t have to move unless the host decided to honor the guest with a better seat.

            As you go about during Lenten, remember: never be ashamed of your family and do nothing to shame your family. Keep your feet anchored on that lower rung.

            Hunger for Humility (12): For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted. (Luke 14:11)

            Cathy Messecar welcomes comments at writecat@consolidated.net            

Happy to go Unnoticed

Have you ever carried a Kazoo with you during the Christmas holidays? When you passed the red kettle collections, did you pull that metal horn out of your pocket and play a few blasts to draw notice as you dropped in your donation? Of course, you haven’t. In my musings this week, I began to wonder more and more about Jesus’ teaching about not drawing attention when one gives to the needy – that no one should “announce it with trumpets” (Matthew 6:2).

            In Matthew chapter six, verses 2-18, Jesus points out three “acts of righteousness,” giving to the needy, prayer, and fasting. He then defines how a humble person gives, prays, and fasts and how a hypocrite shows off his giving, praying, and fasting “to be seen by men.” The word hypocrite comes from the Greek word “hypokrisis" and means “acting on the stage, pretense." The actors wore masks and pretended to be something they were not in real life.

            In the writings of Jewish history, it doesn’t appear that any such habit of horn blowing before giving to the poor existed. The collection box in the temple had a complicated opening above twists and turns below, discouraging a thief reaching in and becoming charitable to self. Because of the twists and turns, the opening was called a “trumpet,” leaving some Bible scholars to believe Jesus referred to the way a person might toss in their coins, making a loud rattle, noticeable to others.

            Other scholars said the word “trumpet” Jesus used could mean “jingle.” Making the coins in hand or bag or pocket, clank against each other, allowing others to know one was about to let loose of loose change. However, there was another ancient practice that Bible intellectuals think might be the cause of Jesus’ remarks.

            Different sects of persons have taken vows of poverty for hundreds of years, and the various groups have adopted different ways of embracing their poverty. Some of the sects perform certain dances or whirls, and they have become known as whirling dervishes. Others took their vow of poverty to learn humility, and they carried a horn or trumpet so that when someone gave money to them (which they in turn gave to the poor), they could blow the trumpet giving attention to the giver, not the receiver.

            Whatever Jesus’ intention or thinking as he taught humble giving, his warning remains clear: do not give so that others may see. I remember an event where a group performed, and afterwards a woman got up in front of the group, and waved a one hundred dollar bill and said she was giving that to the performers that day. She said they were wonderful and challenged others to match her gift.

            Young, not especially spiritual, plus I didn’t have one hundred to give—even with all those strikes against me, I was highly embarrassed by her antics. I could be wrong, but it seemed to me that she only wanted attention for giving her big bill. I still find myself turning a shade of pink when thinking about the unease of the crowd after her announcement.

            Okay, I know this reading audience is not the type to carry Kazoos or wave one hundred dollar bills around to announce giving.  No doubt, we can all improve our secret giving. Here are some hints as to how it looks in everyday life:

            In your home, replace the toilet tissue on the holder, even if it’s not your usual duty (who does this in your household?). Do another person’s chores, even if it’s not your task to take out the trash, cook the supper, or rake the yard. After sitting for a family photo and looking at proofs, choose the one where everyone else looks the best; don’t think about how you look.

            Elaboration and pomp mix about as well with secret giving as water and oil. Giving is not a display for self, it is not a flourish to gain attention, and it is does not cause a big ballyhoo over personal charity.

            Remember as we seek to live humbly that the modest person is happy to go unnoticed.

            Hunger for Humility (11): “Your decrees are the theme of my song wherever I lodge” (Psalm 119:54).

            Cathy Messecar welcomes comments at writecat@consolidated.net

Secret Giving

How many good deeds do you perform in secret and then allow them no voice, notice, or public arena? In conversations with friends, we easily mention our schedules, what we’ve done or plan to do, even if we don’t intentionally spotlight kindnesses we’ve done for others. Today, we consider Jeremy Taylor’s (1613-1667) fourth rule for living humbly. You’ve probably guessed by now that it encourages doing kind deeds in secret.

            Rule number four, again in the language of Taylor’s day, “Love to be concealed and little esteemed; be content to want praise, never being troubled when thou art slighted or undervalued.” I first became aware of Jeremy Taylor’s writings in Randy Harris’ book, “Soul Work: Confessions of a Part-Time Monk.” In it, Harris says about Taylor’s fourth rule for living humbly: “This doing things in secrecy is one of the best ways to check our motives.”

            In a weekly Bible class, my co-teacher and I staged application stories for four- and five-year-olds, encouraging them to take the Bible lesson out of the church building and put them to practice in their lives. One night, we studied about giving in secret. The skit we wrote and acted out centered around two teenage boys mowing and cleaning a widow’s yard before her return home from a hospital stay. As our students watched, Ms. Doris and I transformed into teenagers: we donned our baseball caps, pushed an imaginary lawn mower, made mower sounds, and raked an imaginary yard.

            In our imaginary secret-giving scene, the two “clean-up boys” hurried to finish their job because they didn’t want any praise or thank you from people. This was to be a hush-hush act of kindness. They only wanted God to know.

            Admittedly, secret acts of giving may be a bit more difficult to accomplish. A few people might know if you are a blood donor, but the recipient doesn’t ever meet the donor who gave the “gift of life.” The family home remains a prime place to give secretly: clean dust from under the bed, rake debris from gutters, keep rolls of toilet tissue on dispensers, or match socks for a family who boasts 14 feet. Giving without trumpeting the deed to all becomes secret giving.

            Giving through a third person is another avenue for accomplishing an unseen kindness. Special Bank accounts offer a way to give in secret to people who have suffered tragedies and incurred unexpected medical or funeral expenses.

            This past holiday season many secret Santas paid off toy lay-aways, giving families flexibility in tight budgets. Making sure that more than popcorn graces the table of the hungry expresses God’s love. When one accomplishes secret giving, the giver avoids the temptation to give a self-pat on the back or listen for applause.

            A young boy named Ben came to me the following Wednesday night after our secret giving class, and in five-year-old innocence reported, “Teacher, one day in school there was paper on the floor. I didn’t even drop it there, and I picked it up and put it in the trash. Nobody saw me, and I didn’t tell my school teacher.”  Oh, how I hugged Ben! He listened. He learned. He obeyed.

            Secret giving is very much worth the extra effort because it helps cleanse a spirit of selfishness and reminds one to honor God. After all, God humbly gives numerous gifts to you each day without a smidgen of fanfare.

            Hunger for Humility (10): “Be careful not to do your ‘acts of righteousness’ before men, to be seen by them. If you do, you will have no reward from your Father in heaven . . . your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you” (Matthew 6:1-4).

         

I'm sorry

Two acquaintances apologized to me for words they had misspoken. Do you know how I felt about those two women after their apologies? I labeled them courageous and obedient. Their “word” infractions were what I would categorize as minor, and yet, they saw the need to make corrections. Their consciences indicted them and they immediately made sure to ask me to strike their words from my memory. One woman was 88 and apologized by phone, and the other woman was also a senior citizen and apologized in person.  

            During the writing of this series of newspaper articles on humility, a collection of 52 by the end of 2012, I am seeing and hearing many acts of humility. I recognize them more readily now. The Lord has also pried open my eyes to my own prideful ways: when I speak, what I assume about people, and my response in hostile or sensitive situations. With his holy help, I’m learning that my pride often keeps me from immediately asking one I’ve offended for forgiveness. I long to obey the minute God nudges me and reminds me of my sin.

            I’ve learned that an apology is most effective when I also confess my specific sin: “I’m sorry I snapped at you. My response to you was wrong.” Pride keeps one from saying, “I shouldn’t have behaved like that. Forgive me, please?”—words that bring us back into relationship with God and man. I can imagine the more mature Adam and Eve, kneeling, faces upturned to God, shedding tears and saying, “We’re sorry.” Perhaps Sarah later told God, “I’m sorry for ignoring your promise and trying to fix our infertility through an Egyptian maiden.” If one is in tune with the humility of God, whenever realization of sin takes place, confession, repentance, and seeking forgiveness also happens.

            Working on spiritual disciplines remains difficult, no easier than crawling out of a warm bed on a cold morning to exercise the body. A lazy Christian easily drifts in life, hops on an inner tube of passivity, and floats along without purposefully training his or her heart to stay in tune with God’s Spirit. Our ancient brother Paul struggled with the same temptations we do, but he took a proactive approach to outwit sin. The Amplified Version and The Message say in 1 Corinthians 9:27:

But [like a boxer] I buffet my body [handle it roughly, discipline it by hardships] and subdue it, for fear that after proclaiming to others the Gospel and things pertaining to it, I myself should become unfit [not stand the test, be unapproved and rejected as a counterfeit].

I don't know about you, but I'm running hard for the finish line. I'm giving it everything I've got. No sloppy living for me! I'm staying alert and in top condition. I'm not going to get caught napping, telling everyone else all about it and then missing out myself.

           

            In my home congregation, our 2012 congregational theme is Philippians 4:8-9. There, Paul further instructs his fellow disciples in a personal disciplining method by thinking excellent and praiseworthy thoughts: whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, and whatever is admirable.

            When God nudges you, reminding of a wrongdoing, learn to say, “I’m sorry. Forgive me, please.” It is a humble and truthful thing to say. It is a noble thing to say. It is right to say. It is a pure way of expressing regret and asking for forgiveness.

            It is lovely.

            It is admirable.

            Hunger for Humility (9): “[Jesus] must increase, but I must decrease” (John 3:30).

                       

The Cradle of God's Arms

 “God is coming for a visit. Get ready” -- essentially, that’s what Moses told the Israelites when they finally left Egyptian slavery. With over 400 years of oppression in their backpacks, God instructed Moses to prepare the Israelites for a visit from him.  

            Holy God set the standard for the meeting: the people were to wash their clothes and married couples were to abstain from sexual relations. They were not to touch the mountain or go near it. Three days after their preparations, God came to earth at the site of Mount Sinai. The Israelite’s witnessed a “violently” trembling mountain with dense clouds hovering, lightning strikes, and roaring thunder. Smoke billowed “up from it like smoke from a furnace” (Exodus 19:18). If that weren’t enough, a trumpet sound “grew louder and louder.” I imagine humility grew in great measure as the Israelites met God under those circumstances. 

            Moses later wrote, “Everyone in the camp trembled” (Exodus 19:16). The writer of Hebrews recorded, “The sight was so terrifying that Moses said, ‘I am trembling with fear’” (Hebrews 12:21). For us, the picture becomes clearer. When God displays even a portion of his power, all people instinctively recognize their smallness.  

            The Israelites already had primer lessons about God’s power: they had witnessed the land-destructive, economic disastrous plagues of Egypt. They had walked on a dry seabed with walls of water heaped up on each side. God had already provided three months of provisions for their company of over a million people. Future teachings also awaited them when God would care for them over forty years: their shoes or clothing would not wear, they would eat daily bread, and they would drink water in a wasteland -- all from God Almighty’s tap.

            Soon after the fiery power of God displayed on the mountain, God commissioned and equipped workers to build a mobile meeting place, a symbol of his steady presence among them. Because they would travel for many years before inheriting a permanent land, a movable tent would become a meeting place for God and man. Gifted artisans would construct the tent and furnishings of worship.

            One furnishing, the Ark of the Covenant measured 4 x 3 x 3 footage, still and small compared to a quaking mountain. The box’s lid, the atonement covering, had two cherubim with wings stretching over its length. God told Moses, “There, above the cover between the two cherubim, I will meet with you and give you all my commands for the Israelites” (Exodus 25:22). A smoldering mountain or a 4 x 3 x 3 meeting place for one-to-one contact present a marvelous contrast. At the mercy seat, God accommodated the smallness of man. He harnessed his glory.   

            For hundreds of future years, God would meet Israel’s leaders in a less terrifying and public way at the mercy seat. Through the less intimidating meeting place, all-powerful God simply gave another brush stroke to his portrait. My small mind cannot comprehend all of God, but he ably assists those who long to know him. Much later at the right time in history, God sent his servant, Jesus.  Immanuel, meaning God with us, Jesus furthered our understanding of mercy. He became the altar, the atoning sacrifice, and the mercy seat, and most of all, he showed us that God is very approachable.

            The prophet Isaiah whetted Israel’s appetite for Jesus with this description: “Like a shepherd he will tend his flock, in his arm he will gather the lambs and carry them in his bosom” (40:11).

            This week, imagine yourself awaking with the rest of the Israelites to that smoldering mountain and the deafening trumpet blasts. After meditating upon God’s power and your probable response to that situation, think about the cradle of God’s arms around you, tending your every need. Both displays represent God’s holiness and his ability to take care of his dear children. Our casting every worry into his capable hands remains a key to becoming humble.

            Hunger for Humility (8): “I carried you on eagles’ wings and brought you to myself” (Exodus 19:4).

          

Accept Correction with Humility

            If practiced, Jeremy Taylor’s third rule for living humbly will help one avoid becoming a hypocrite.  Taylor’s (1613-1667) third rule in the language of that day: “Whatsoever evil thou sayest of thyself, be content that others should think to be true.” He explained a bit further by saying “But he that calls himself intemperate, foolish, lustful, and is angry when his neighbours call him so, is both a false and a proud person.” My interpretation: A humble person will recognize their own failings and will not be angry with others when they also recognize the same frailties.

            No one likes to have their flaws pointed out by others. Even when a friend or enemy is “spot on” in their assessment, it doesn’t make it any easier to hear that one hasn’t lived up to their own expectations or others’.

            Mark Hayter, The Courier columnist, has written about the Parkers before. The Parkers were mutual friends of ours. Grandmother-aged Ruby Parker was among a group of younger wives as we spoke of how a woman can sense a mood shift in her husband. Ruby told us that when she saw Roger in a pensive mood, she made a practice of recalling the events of the day to see if she might have offended him through her words or actions. If she thought of an offense of hers, she simply asked Roger for forgiveness. If she couldn’t think of anything, she gently asked Roger why he was quiet. Sometimes, he was just tired. Whatever way he answered, because Ruby opened herself to hear how she might have failed, she kept dialogue open between husband and wife. I’ve always remembered Ruby’s example of humble living. 

            Sometimes, when a spouse or friend or even an enemy points out a flaw, we can show we accept their honest critique by using humor. Humor extends good nature to the one courageous enough to talk to us about our failings. A Yogi Berra story illustrate this: When driving to the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown, Pennsylvania, with his wife Carmen and his three sons, Larry, Tim, and Dale, Yogi got lost. His wife Carmen, in Yogi’s words, “was giving me a hard time.”

            Yogi finally said, “We’re lost, but we’re making good time.” Even though humor softens tense moments in relationships, one can assure the person pointing out the fault that the topic will get serious consideration.

            As part of my study on humility, I’m reading Andrew Murray’s “Humility, The Beauty of Holiness.” Murray (1828-1917, with 240 books to his credit), wrote, “I feel deeply that we have very little conception of what the Church suffers from the lack of this divine humility – the nothingness that makes room for God to prove His power.” I suspect that even after a year of focusing on humility in this column we will have only nibbled at the corners of humility.

            This next suggestion is sort of like the person who said, “Don’t pray for patience.” They found that when they asked God for it, a hardship came along as the teacher. I want to encourage you to watch for criticism that comes your way this week, and instead of bristling like a cat, let those spine hairs down, and simply say, “I’ll seriously consider what you’ve advised.” In sincerity, you can even be more generous and say, “Thank you.” When you leave their presence, do just what you said. Consider the advice. Don’t fume. Don’t tell others about the corrective conversation.

            I hope we all learn lessons this week, but you know what that means – that we’ll all receive correction. So, if your neighbor, as Jeremy Taylor said, calls you a fool, your humorous “response” could be, “Been there. Done that.” 

            To keep us uplifted on this journey, consider Elizabeth Harrell’s six benefits of seeking humility, mentioned in an article at Lifescript.com and shortened here for you: (1) Humble people tend to respond rather than “react” to challenging situations. (2) When we humbly serve others, we reduce the focus on our own problems. (3) People feel comfortable around a humble person. (4) Practicing humility opens the door to wisdom because humble people listen more than they speak. (5) People trust you when they recognize your genuine interest in them, and that your goal is not to promote self. (6) Humble leadership creates loyalty when others see you rejoice at their successes.

            Hunger for Humility (7): “Go out into the world uncorrupted, a breath of fresh air in this squalid and polluted society. Provide people with a glimpse of good living and of the living God” (Philippians 2:15 MSG).

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 Accessed February 16, 2012

Tumbling Weeds

I know the folk in West Texas thought we were fools – because we played the part.

            On a pleasure trip in our pickup truck to the flat side of Texas, I became fascinated with tumbleweeds. Intrigued, I asked my husband, David, if we could take a load of tumbleweeds home. Earlier, a friend mentioned that during a very lean year in West Texas, they decorated scrawny tumbleweed for Christmas. Minus the poverty, a tumbleweed Christmas sounded like fun.

            If I remember correctly, Dave balked just a little about my suggested cargo. After all, he would drive the load through miles of curious onlookers, who would most certainly wonder about our worthless load of weeds.

            If you’ve ever run across tumbleweed, literally, you know to steer away from future run-ins.  If a rambling weed moves across the road near a low-slung sports car, depending on the angle of assault, they can scratch paint, damage the under carriage, or screech across hoods. They even tangle in moving parts and break air hoses underneath semi-trucks.  

            On that day when I made my bizarre request, Dave said yes, as he kindly caved to my insane desire. We harvested tumbleweeds near a roadside where a fence had corralled a good number of the cumbersome bushes. A few ranchers and locals slowed their vehicles, shaking their heads in disbelief as we reaped tumbleweeds.

            The “Seattle Times” in 2001, reported on tumbleweeds whose taproots absorbed radiation on the Hanover Nuclear Reservation, contaminating the plant. On a search and destroy mission, crews were sent out to test for “glowing” tumbleweeds. Those weeds could spread what they had absorbed.

             

            The Prairie Tumbleweed Farm in Kansas has turned the Russian thistle, which arrived here in imported grain years ago, into a booming business. Some tumbleweed grow as tall as a house and are sold around the world as props in western movies, theme parks, country weddings, businesses, and homes. These tumbleweeds became useful again when guided to a good purpose.

            “Tumbleweed” doesn’t describe a specific plant but a habit of plants that separate from their root nutrients and then keep rollin’, rollin’, rollin’. When plants leave the soil, they lose their source of livelihood, become hollow, and then whiffs and puffs of ground air blow them about. I couldn’t think of a creative way to use all my tumbleweeds, so we burned them with the fall leaves on a damp, tranquil day.

            As I’ve pondered, studied, and prayed about humility over the past six weeks, I’m getting a clearer picture of virtues increasing when anchored in humble thinking.  Even though humility is among the seven virtues, many think that it remains the foundation of all others. “True humility -- the basis of the Christian system -- is the low but deep and firm foundation of all virtues,” says Edmond Burke.
            The virtue kindness happens when the giver puts aside personal needs. The virtue charity grows out of “Christ in you” (Colossians 3:27). The virtue diligence progresses when one doesn’t mind providing manual labor or prestigious labor, the lowliness or status not making any difference.

            Many people, tap-rooted in contamination, formed alliances against God in Psalmist Asaph’s day, and he asked, “Make them like tumbleweed, O my God” (83:13). When people withdraw from God, they become brittle and hollow, and blown about by whims, they damage others. 

            I’ve seen that my thoughts are often like the roving tumbleweed, flitting here and there, one minute I’m on a good path to behaving humbly, and the very next minute, (literally), my pride-filled ego rises and yanks on the taproot, trying to urge me out of God’s will. It’s a struggle, but worth the winning. This week, may God furnish you with nutrient-filled soul-soil as you practice humility. 

            Hunger for Humility (6): “Still other seed fell on good soil, where it produced a crop -- a hundred, sixty or thirty times what was sown” (Matthew 13:8 NLT)

            Cathy Messecar welcomes comments or ideas at writecat at consolidated dot net

Humility Pretense

“Hang down your head, Tom Dooley, poor boy, you’re bound to die.” Those lyrics came from a folk song made popular by the Kingston Trio in 1958, written about the events surrounding the 1866 murder of Laura Foster, in Wilkes County, North Carolina.

            The convicted murderer’s original spelling of his name was Tom Dula (the last “a” was often pronounced like a “y” by Appalachians, thus the spelling change). Some believe he was protecting a former girlfriend, thought to have murdered his current sweetheart, Laura. Standing on the gallows before his hanging, he reportedly said, “Gentlemen, see these hands, they never harmed a hair on that girl’s head.”

            Today, a wrongdoer, during an arrest, often ducks his or her head to avoid having their face shown by a television camera. The turning away from a camera or lowering of the chin could be from real remorse or rebellion because of their capture. Let’s consider another way one lowers their head. Jeremy Taylor’s (1613-1667) second rule about living humbly mentions that the outward appearance and posture doesn’t necessarily show humility. Following is the rule in the language of the 1600s:

            “Humility consists not in the railing against thyself, or wearing mean clothes, or going softly or submissively; but in hearty and real evil or mean opinion of thyself.” The rest of the rule, “Believe thyself an unworthy person heartily, as thou believest thyself to be hungry, or poor, or sick, when thou art so.” I’m uneducated in language of that era, and I had to read the rule several times and research before attempting an explanation.

            Taylor tells us that the outward show of humility isn’t true humility. Only when one acknowledges unworthiness does one move toward humility. The apostle Paul captured the essence of rule number two when he said, “There is no difference between Jew and Gentile, for all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and all are justified freely by his grace through the redemption that came by Christ Jesus” (Romans 3:23).

            Paul didn’t pull any punches. We all sin. Taylor said we don’t wear our humility. We live our humility. We don’t “act” humble. We embrace humility by recognizing our frailties and leaning on Jesus to help us be more like him. I’m never perfect at loving others, even on the days of my best behavior.  

            Humility involves the realization and acknowledgment that temptations to become jealous, prideful, selfish, or entertain ungodly thoughts assault us daily. Far too often, I give into the temptations, but I don’t want the focus of this column to be on failures, I want us to center on our successes because of God’s help.

            Coach Jimmy Johnson revealed to “The New York Times” what he said to the Dallas Cowboys before they took the field in 1993 Super Bowl. He told his players if he laid a two by four on the locker room floor and asked each of them to walk the length, that each player could do that because they would focus on the length of the board. However, if he placed that same board between the tenth floors of skyscrapers very few could walk the length because they would focus on falling. He asked his team to focus on each play of the game as if it were a good practice session. The Cowboys won 52-7.

            This week, instead of humility pretense, focus on each interaction with others. When you present yourself, it’s possible for the outward person and inner person to be very different. We can shake someone’s hand and seem friendly while our mind conjures up criticisms of the other person. Ask God to make you aware of when the two are mismatched. The very best thing occurs when humble behavior and humble thought accompany each other.

            Hunger for Humility (5): “Good and upright is the Lord; therefore He instructs sinners in His ways. He guides the humble in what is right and teaches them His way.” (Psalm 25:8-9)

            Cathy Messecar welcomes comments or ideas at writecat at consolidated dot net