The Bell

A bell sounds in the distance. It is low and deep and seems somehow true, and yet ominous, final. As if only its pealing should be heard. Only its pealing was worthy of listening. But that bell is in the distance, so far away.

Years ago we walked towards it, never straying from the path it showed, led by its single, melodious tone. Then other bells began to sound, at first harmonious, but soon producing a high, shrill discord that surrounded us, distracted us, even terrified us. Soon the lone bell could not be heard for the cacophony that surrounded us. We began to believe those bells were the true sounds that lead, and all but forgot our original path. Further we strayed, as the noise grew louder and louder, until the only noise heard above those bells was the screaming of our hearts.

Still, the lone, low bell rings. Slowly, steadily. Flee from the bells that took us away, bells of hate, intolerance, prejudice, fear. These bells ARE NOT TRUE, AND HAVE NO PART IN THE TRUTH. THE TRUTH IS NOT IN THEM. The low ringing we hear is love. Not of some, but all. Eliminate the others, for Love, and He who is Love, is the only truth, the only way, life. The others WILL destroy, that's what they are made to do. Love will last.

The Breastplate of St. Patrick

Several years ago, I had the honor to lead a workshop based on John Eldridge's book, "Wild at Heart". During the study, I was introduced to a prayer called "the Breastplate of St. Patrick". It is an incredible, humbling, yet empowering prayer. I just wanted to share this with you today. Love and peace to all!

The Breastplate of St. Patrick

I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
of the Creator of creation.
I arise today
Through the strength of Christ's birth with His baptism,
Through the strength of His crucifixion with His burial,
Through the strength of His resurrection with His ascension,
Through the strength of His descent for the judgment of doom.
I arise today
Through the strength of the love of cherubim,
In the obedience of angels,
In the service of archangels,
In the hope of resurrection to meet with reward,
In the prayers of patriarchs,
In the predictions of prophets,
In the preaching of apostles,
In the faith of confessors,
In the innocence of holy virgins,
In the deeds of righteous men.
I arise today, through
The strength of heaven,
The light of the sun,
The radiance of the moon,
The splendor of fire,
The speed of lightning,
The swiftness of wind,
The depth of the sea,
The stability of the earth,
The firmness of rock.
I arise today, through
God's strength to pilot me,
God's might to uphold me,
God's wisdom to guide me,
God's eye to look before me,
God's ear to hear me,
God's word to speak for me,
God's hand to guard me,
God's shield to protect me,
God's host to save me
From snares of devils,
From temptation of vices,
From everyone who shall wish me ill,
afar and near.
I summon today
All these powers between me and those evils,
Against every cruel and merciless power
that may oppose my body and soul,
Against incantations of false prophets,
Against black laws of pagandom,
Against false laws of heretics,
Against craft of idolatry,
Against spells of witches and smiths and wizards,
Against every knowledge that corrupts man's body and soul;
Christ to shield me today
Against poison, against burning,
Against drowning, against wounding,
So that there may come to me an abundance of reward.
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 when I arise,
Christ in the heart of every man 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.
[Note that people sometimes pray a shorter version of this prayer just with these 15 lines about Christ above. The conclusion follows below.]
I arise today
Through a mighty strength, the invocation of the Trinity,
Through belief in the Threeness,
Through confession of the Oneness
of the Creator of creation.

The sea is calling, and I must go.

Got in the mood for a new poem. Hope you like it.

The sea is calling, and I must go.

The sea is calling, and I must go.
She pulls me from my chaos into her peace.
The infinite horizon providing limitless calm.
Soft sands of the beach a bedding for the soul.

The sea is calling, and I must go.
The bright sun laughs at my florescent lit world.
The blue ocean mocks my gray walls.
The curves of the earth taunt the angles of my cube.

The sea is calling, and I must go.
Pulling me, teasing me, screaming at me, whispering to me.
"Go home" she says. "I love you" she says.
As my eyes darken, I see her clear.

The sea is calling, and I must go.
Home.

Sonrise

Sunrise Service. As someone who is most definitely "not" a morning person, these two words are usually not connected in my lexicon. But then there's Easter. There is something so beautiful and significant in the rising of the sun and the rising of the Son. I like listening to the more modern anthems (if you call "Rise Again", "He's Alive" and Easter Song" new) but I love singing the old hymns..."Christ the Lord is Risen Today", He Arose" and of course that old chestnut, "He Lives".

He Lives, He Lives, Christ Jesus lives today.

He walks with me and talks with me

Along life's narrow way

He Lives, He Lives, Salvation to impart.

You ask me how I know He lives,

He Lives within my heart.

 

As to the timing of the rising, the Bible doesn't specifically say Jesus rose at the crack of dawn. But I can't imagine the Lord of Creation holding back for one second longer that he had to, before busting open the gates and rising victorious.

 

If you were to ask me why I believe he rose from the dead, that's a little more tricky. I could give you any number of personal reasons, all of which could be explained away, or even just ignored. I could tell of things He's done for me, and some would say coincidence. Yet nothing will shake my faith in Him.

 

I think that we all have the choice to accept or reject God's existence. We can either believe that our world in which we are born, live and die, as bad as it is, is all of our own creation and making, and for our time here we are trapped in its existence. Or we can see God, not as a warden, but as a liberator, with the keys to our cells (ourselves), allowing us the freedom to become better than we can be on our own. We can believe that the history of how mankind has treated others is evidence there is no God, or We can believe that God's will is not to condemn each other, but to lift each other up, with a love strong enough to die for even those who would hate us, and that He did just that as an example for us.

 

 

You see, I can choose to believe in a world that many would say we could just as soon do without, or choose to believe in a God that would have us be a change in that world. Belief is choice, and I choose Him. You ask me how I know He lives, He lives within my heart.

Happy 4th of July!

It's July Fourth! A time of fireworks, and music, and picnics, and grilling, and swimming pools, and oh yes, that little piece of paper giving birth to a daring new republic, the Declaration of Independence. Some studies have revealed that many of the themes in this letter to King George III had been "borrowed" from other works, but the collection of these together, along with the signatures of 56 men, shook the foundation of the British Empire, and set the foundation for thirteen separate, sovereign states to become united as one, the United States of America.

In all of this, debates and tempers were heated, even as the Philadelphia heat of summer beat down on their meeting hall. But there was a force, a vision, that was above and beyond those differences of opinion. And it was to this purpose that these very different men affixed their names, and became, as one, Americans.

For this Fourth, let us resolve to go beyond our differences, put party lines aside, and as these brave men, cherish the fact that we are all, as one, Americans.

My First Day of Baseball

     For as long as I can remember, I’ve never been able to outdo my brother. He’s always been able to “one up” me in anything I’ve attempted. Don’t get me wrong, I love my big brother. It’s just that I wanted to be as good as he was, and never quite seemed to get there.

     He was born first. (Older by 11 years.) He made better grades in High School. (Without ever bringing home a book.) He played in the High School band, and was STILL popular. (My popularity extended only to playing for others in talent shows, then dissolving into the forgotten, faceless crowd.)

     But most of all, my brother excelled at sports. Any sport. Any time. Always ready. And his favorite was BASEBALL.  He could hit, he could catch, he could throw better than anyone else I knew. Sandlot, High School, Church Team, College, it didn’t matter. This was his “best of the best” sport. And I wanted to be just like him.

     So when a chance came to try out for a youth league BASEBALL team, I knew I had to do it. I went over all the reasons with my mom and dad, over and over, to get them to let me try. I was old enough, I said. I got good enough grades, I said. I could still do my chores around the house, I said. And my crowning argument? You let Gary, I said.

     Finally succumbing to my near flawless debating technique (Gary was a little better.), it was agreed that I would attend the tryouts. And best of all, Gary would take me there. I don’t even remember the ride down, I was so excited. Not only was I going to play BASEBALL (I knew the tryouts were in the bag.) but I was going to show Gary I could do something that he could do and he would be so proud of me never mind 11 years we would be close just like brothers should be never mind he started college when I started first grade we were brothers and he could finally be proud!

     When we got there, Gary pulled his car into a dirt parking spot facing the field, near home plate. Awesome, I thought, he’ll be able to see me. He’ll see me make the team. I jumped out, glove in hand, and ran to the dugout to the nearest adult I could find, and told him I wanted to try out for the team.

     As it happens, we had gotten there after the tryouts had started, and they had already done some fielding, so he sent me to grab a bat, and try my hitting. That was fine with me; my fielding wasn’t my best ability. I had this unfortunate habit of reacting just a bit slow, so I caught about an equal number of balls with my face as my glove. But I was much better with hitting. This was my time, I would show them right here. I’d hit that ball so far, they’d have to take me. And it would all happen right in front of Gary.

     I had always been a scrawny kid, so they must have felt they needed to take it easy on me. For whatever reason, that first pitch was the most beautiful pitch my young years had ever seen. (Or have seen since.) I still picture that moment in my head in slow motion, my form reaching a level of perfection it had never risen to before, feeling the power of connection, then seeing the ball fly from the bat. I had a hit! To my mind it was the greatest hit in the history of youth league BASEBALL tryouts. Soaring out, making it almost all the way to the outfield. And Gary had seen it.

     After a second’s hesitation, to bask in my history making moment, I began to run for all I was worth. As I rounded third, I saw that my soon-to-be team mate’s joy was equal to my own. Even though I put my all into running, I could still see from the corner of my eyes them laughing and cheering me on. I was not only going to be on the team, I would be its star. Oh, life was good!

     As I rounded second, it seemed the joyous enthusiasm of my team continued to increase. Some were so happy with my talent; they were even rolling in the grass, unable to speak, for the joy of obtaining their new team leader. I would be a gracious leader as well, always offering to help those not as capable as myself. I looked towards the car for Gary, but I couldn’t see him. Could he have walked off, without seeing my greatest triumph? No matter, over my years in school, college, then the pros, he would have plenty of opportunity to see me shine.

     As I rounded first, it began to strike me as odd that no one had made an attempt to get the ball, now resting comfortably in the grass next to the nearly comatose shortstop. Had I so overwhelmed them, they had given up even trying? No, no, this was too much. I would have to remember to hold back my considerable talent, so that no one would feel they didn’t measure up. And where was Gary? I can’t believe he didn’t see this adulation for his little brother.

     As my feet finally reached that sacred diamond of whitened rubber, several realizations hit me at once. First, that the joy around me seemed excessive, even for such a glorious hit. Second, that I could see Gary, or at least his head, actually just the top of his head, from behind his steering wheel. Third, as the coach was approaching me, I was suddenly less confident if the order of bases was supposed to be 3^rd, 2^nd, 1^st, home…or 1^st, 2^nd, 3^rd, home. The coach, catching his breath between words, confirmed the correct order.

     I went over to the dugout, picked up my glove, and walked with the gait of a man being led to his execution to my brother’s car. I opened the passenger door, slunk inside and, very quietly, we went home. I went in my room, put away my glove, and didn’t pick it up again.

     Well, that’s not actually right. There’s something about BASEBALL that keeps drawing a person in. Maybe it’s the fact that anyone can play, yet no one ever completely masters it. It is a game where the entire team becomes a band of brothers, fighting together for the win, yet can be determined by one bat, one pitch, one catch. Ruthlessly fair, it is 9 innings of true competition, to which you give your all, you have no other choice, and would have it no other way. You see, my brother was right about something else too. BASEBALL is the best.

A Love Poem

I searched for you.
everywhere I looked I would see you,
but you were not there.


In the gray stillness of the morning,
the peacefulness of those last moments
the moon and stars still rule the sky,
You were not there in the peace,
yet your peace was all around.


In the exuberance of the dawn
The joyful moment the sun overcomes the night
and rises, at first just peeking over the horizon.
Then rising high, blinding all those who doubted
it could ever overcome the darkness again.
You were not there in the joy.
Yet your joy was all around.


In the warmth of the day.
The sun giving life to all it touches.
Sustaining it, caressing it, the earth and
all in it reborn. And hope, knowing that even when it wasn't there, it still
gave life.
You were not there in the hope.
Yet your hope was all around.


Lying in bed at night.
Hungering for your peace, your joy, your hope, your love.
Yet filled completely, for all that is here, all around.
And I have found you, where you were all along.
In my heart.