tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-77483452024-03-08T18:23:21.083-05:00FloydvilleReflections about life along the pilgrimage.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.comBlogger165125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-26191006347797478112008-11-17T07:51:00.002-05:002009-02-09T20:53:23.250-05:00New Blog at http://douglasfloyd.comTo make things easier, I've just been posting in one place: <a href="http://douglasfloyd.com">douglafloyd.com</a>. You can subscribe at Feedburner - <a href="http://feeds2.feedburner.com/conversationsabout">http://feeds2.feedburner.com/conversationsabout</a>Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-60524345970883907732008-06-20T07:35:00.002-05:002008-06-20T07:35:59.456-05:00She'll Be Coming Round the MountainShe’ll be comin round the mountain when she comes,<br />She’ll be comin round the mountain when she comes,<br />She’ll be comin round the mountain,<br />She’ll be comin round the mountain,<br />She’ll be comin round the mountain when she comes.<br /><br />I’ve heard that song over and over and over through my life. Seems like a silly song but there’s something in the repetition and rhythm that makes is stick out in my mind. At different times in my life, the song has brought to mind different images.<br /><br />This morning it makes me think of the person who caught in a particular trial. In the midst of their frustration they exclaim, “I’ve gone around this mountain several times. I wish I could learn my lesson and move on.” I know that person because I’ve been that person more than once. <br /><br />Whether in the areas of finances or job or friendships, I’ve often felt like I was circling, re-circling and circling the mountain yet again. Driving up the side of a mountain on a swtichback road has a similar feel. I see the same sights again and again, but each time I see them from a higher altitude.<br /><br />It might just be that when we feel like we circling round the mountain again and again that we could be repeating a pattern but at a higher altitude each time. So we’re not really in the same place, we’re actually moving higher and higher.<br /><br />Sometimes I’ve drawn two diagrams on a board to demonstrate the way many Christians perceive the spiritual life. Some might think of it as a gradual incline leading higher and higher and higher to a peak, which is the place of glorification. Depending on their tradition, this promise of glorification may happen before or after death.<br /><br />Other Christians might think of their life more like a line pointing up breaking through a barrier to reach a plateau where the life of faith is lived in fullness. A key event marks this breakthrough—usually either their initial salvation experience or a secondary experience of the Spirit’s infilling. Their “testimony” normally will consist of discussing the events prior to the moment of breakthrough and the dramatic impact the breakthrough had on their life.<br /><br />I think both of these pictures are helpful in thinking about different aspects of a spiritual journey but I might also suggest that, “She’ll be comin round the mountain” offers a third and valuable image as well.<br /><br />The image of a circling a mountain with a gradual incline captures the image of repeated patterns in our life. I would suggest that one aspect of growth in our lives can be characterized by a series of repeated patterns.<br /><br />One way to explain this understanding is to consider the seasons of the year. Each year we pass through spring, summer, fall and winter. Then the seasons are repeated. And again. And again. And again throughout our lives.<br /><br />If we don’t move every year, this repeated pattern of seasons in our region will be layered into our memories. Certain smells, sights and experiences of the different seasons will bring back memories of past seasons. Driving with my window down in late spring often takes me instantly back to 1982 and my senior year in high school. <br /><br />We may associate certain activities with certain seasons. For example, we may connect vacations with summer; football with fall; hot chocolate with winter; and flower gardens with spring. But we don’t have to do the same thing every season.<br /><br />Some years, I may chose to follow the birds and fly south in the winter. Other years, I may head north to a snowy mountain and ski slopes for the winter. In other words, I experience the repeated pattern of the season, but I am free to improvise my response much like a jazz musician might do with a standard.<br /><br />In addition to the repeated patterns, we impose a calendar upon our year with repeated celebration or patterns. Many Americans might celebrate Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, and the Fourth of July regardless of their religion. <br /><br />Add to the big four a series of lesser holidays and we have a repeated holiday in most months of the year. Add to those celebrations the personal celebrations in the lives of our friends and families like birthdays and anniversaries. Then add the weekly worship services, yearly VBS, graduations, weddings and more. <br /><br />Soon we discover that our life is filled with repeated patterns. <br /><br />I would suggest that we learn through repeated patterns. Just as our calendar reflects this rhythm, our personal lives reflect seasons of learning. There are times when we may actively learn and other times when we may actively create and other times when we may focus on serving or relationships or prayer or mission’s work. <br /><br />These seasons of intensity and focus may repeat again and again. But each time, we may remember our previous experiences and lessons from the past to play upon our experience now.<br /><br />We may also pass through repeated seasons of joy and sorrow, struggle and victory, grief and comfort, conflict and forgiveness and so on. But just like the jazz standard or the repeating seasons, we don’t have to respond to the same rhythms in the same way. <br /><br />One year during lent, I meditated upon the joy of the Lord. This taught me the pattern of joy in suffering. When I find myself in the midst of a repeated trial, I am free to choose a different way to respond. Jack Taylor once told the story of his son growing through grave financial difficult. In response, the family had a celebration.<br /><br />This decision to alter their response to something depressing and discouraging could then give them fresh eyes and perspective to the struggle and possibly see new opportunities ahead.<br /><br />So today, I think I’ll rejoice that, “She’ll be comin round the mountain when she comes.” I may think I’m coming back round the mountain, but I know I’m moving upward to a place of glory. So I can improvise respond in new ways, bring new expectations to this similar season.<br /><br />And even in the midst of my current circumstances, whether good or bad, I can rejoice and know that my faithful Savior is leading on the path. And in the end, he present me as blameless before the Father.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-63873524497806368712008-06-12T21:29:00.002-05:002008-06-12T21:30:10.263-05:00Rhiannon and the Pursuit of WomanBobi Jones captures the one of the Welsh myths from the Mabinogion in verse with his poem Rhiannon. This love story centers on the pursuit of a woman by a man over hills and into mist. No matter how fast his servant or his horse travel, Pwyll cannot reach the object of his affection. In desperation, he calls out to her and she stops and tells her tale and ends up marrying him.<br /><br />When he beholds this vision of beauty, Pwyll proclaims,<br /><br /> She was dew: if the mournful sun should dare<br /> attempt to lure her away, it would not deserve to dawn.<br /><br />Then Jones' poem (in Pwyll's voice) describes the rapturous vision of Rhiannon by saying,<br /><br /> To see her like precious life fleeting away,<br /> Nervous maidenhood raining along her shoulders<br /> And everyone slaking his thirst in watch her:<br /> As smoothly as blood in a vein she glided<br /> On the white stallion-heart through the morning mist.<br /> How shall one sing her purity?...Not like one<br /> Moving in the outer world was her going,<br /> Unless like a breeze softly wooing the ear,<br /> Like a shadow of waters slanting the mind.<br /><br />Is she a goddess? Is she a human? Has she crossed over from a thin place? Reading Jones' poem the other day, I was struck by how vision of Rhiannon mixes physical attraction with spiritual longing. In the woman, he beholds something, someone that touches him deeper than simple lust for the other.<br /><br />In Rhiannon, Jones's stirred me to think of a vision beyond the Celtic myth to the pursuit of woman. Why do men respond the shape, movement, touch, smell, and voice of woman? The powerful warrior is powerless before such beauty. The intellectual falls dumbstruck in the presence of woman. Is this not part of the mystery of Song of Solomon and the passion between David and Bathsheba.<br /><br />Then as I reflected on this response to the beauty of woman, I was moved by the decision of God to reveal his relationship with humans in the context of man pursuing woman. This pursuit is not the violent conquest of predator but of the Prince running toward His beloved in the folds of a misty morning.<br /><br />In the midst of the pursuit, He speaks and His words capture the heart of the maiden.<br /><br />With all our books about pursuing God and our songs about our love for God, we must not forget the real story. Our feeble responses and pursuits are but dim reflections of a God who runs to His bride. Though she seems to elude Him, He runs straight through the curse of sin and death to pursue His beloved. Then He speaks but a word and she, we, His people are overwhelmed by a love beyond knowing.<br /><br />Again and again we fall back into His faithful loving arms, and by His grace we are learning to trust the Lover who defines the eseence of love by selling all that He has (giving up His life) to purchase the pearl of great price.<br /><br />Tomorrow when I arise, I would do well to remember Jones' poem Rhiannon and expect the Lover of my soul to pursue me through the hills and valleys of my wandering life.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-43483856215846332342008-05-25T07:26:00.001-05:002008-05-25T07:26:34.294-05:00OrientationI fear that our generation is like a ship of sailors lost at sea who stare at the water day after day to try and get their bearings. Looking out from their boat in all four directions, they see water. They don’t lack water. But the endless fields of water cannot show them where they are or where they are headed. Without some orientation, they cannot navigate through this ocean of chaos.<br /><br />Our generation enjoys news twenty-four hours a day both on television and on the web. We can know virtually anything about anything with a click on the computer. We can download sermons in every style and flavor. We can hear music, watch movies, see college courses and learn almost anything through our computers and TVs, and yet we grow more foolish, more blind, and more deaf. <br /><br />We are stumbling in the dark and we cannot see what makes us stumble. We are a dis-oriented and we live among dis-oriented people. So how do we regain proper orientation? I thought I’d look up that word to try and understand what it really means.<br /><br />The root of the word orientation is orient (meaning east, rising sun), which comes from the Latin oriri (meaning to rise, rising sun, to be born, to appear). The root of the word makes me think about my beginning, my birth. I had a starting point. I haven’t always been here. As Bruce Cockburn says, I’ve “never seen everything.”<br /><br />The Scripture reveals that I’ve been created in the image of God; that he formed me in my inmost parts; that he knows me inside and out; that he created for His good pleasure and glory; that in Him I live and move and have my being. So this root of orientation makes me consider properly my beginning.<br /><br />Orientation comes from orient and it is an architectural term that originally indicated the way churches were built facing East (Jerusalem, Rising Son). The medieval world looked to Jerusalem as the center of the world and the east provided proper orientation. Their maps reflect this believe as east not north is the top of the map (and Jerusalem is in the center of the map).<br /><br />Medieval churches were built so that the altars faced the east. Thus every time the people of God gathered to hear the Word of God and break the bread and drink the wine, they faced east toward Jerusalem. <br /><br />Eating the bread and drinking the wine was remembering the covenant of God with His people made in the body of Jesus Christ. The Lord’s table was a way of looking back to His death on the cross and looking forward to a meal that was to come: the marriage supper of the lamb when all God’s people from across the ages would be gathered together in a city of love. Their worship physically pointed them toward the end of all things: New Jerusalem.<br /><br />As I consider the rich history of this word orientation, I come to realize that proper orientation requires us to understand our beginning from our end. John the Apostle reveals this orientation point only in Jesus. He is the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End.<br /><br />In his gospel, John also writes, “All things were made through Him, and without Him nothing was made that was made.” So we look to Jesus as the author and finisher of our faith. Only then can we discover an orienting point.<br /><br />So when we try to make sense of our lives and make decisions about the future or even try to understand the past, we cannot ignore Jesus as the center point. To ignore Him is to misunderstand. To ignore Him is to stumble in the dark.<br /><br />I realize that this must sound insane to those who reject Him. Paul suggested that it is foolishness to the world. So I will be a fool in this world by orienting my life according to the fixed point, the person of Jesus Christ.<br /><br />It is not the newspaper or the web or even the latest Christian book that will give me bearings in this ocean of chaos but the slow, intentional turning of my mind and heart to Jesus. By His Spirit, the Bible becomes an ever fuller unveiling of Jesus. Like the disciples on the road to Emmaus, I am gradually learning to see and hear my Savior.<br /><br />And just as the sailor who uses longitude and latitude to move through the sea, I turn my eyes to Him in His Word, His commands, His people. Most of my steps forward still appear unclear like walking across choppy waves as far as the eye can see. But I rest that He is leading the way, and I will arrive at the New Jerusalem in time for the feast.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-78055736270788661802008-05-15T21:15:00.002-05:002008-05-15T23:53:54.490-05:00Taking the Name in VainIsrael is under attack yet again from the daring and fierce Philistines. Crushed by terrorizing force of this battle ready tribe, the Israelites decide that it's time to use the awesome force of YHWH against these invaders. They call upon the ungodly guardians of the doorway (Eli's unpriestly sons) to extract YHWH from the tabernacle and bring His presence onto the battlefield.<br /><br />As the Philistines spy the ark entering the camp and hear the shouts and frenzied joy of the Israelites, they feel a terror deep in the bowels. Should we proceed or run from this god who struck down the mighty Egypt? Choosing to be strong and courageous (much like Joshua's army of old), the Philistines mount attack on the camp of YHWH and are victorious.<br /><br />There is no victory shout among God's people. There's is not terror like the terror of God's warriors overcoming Jericho. Instead, the wicked priests fall dead and the fallen people shrink in absolute defeat. Eli dies hearing the news and Eli's daughter-in-law names the desolate birth of her dying womb Ichabod: the glory has been taken away.<br /><br />God's glory falls into captivity and made to serve before the great god Dagon. Or is He? The God who brought an end to Eli's rule; the God who killed Hophni and Phineas for their mockery of His holy name strikes out at the breathless image, breaking the head and hands and forcing obeisances even to the image of this false god.<br /><br />Soon the captive YHWH reigns plagues upon these oppressors, and the Philistines fall before the terror of a holy God. Just like the soon to be destroyed Pharaoh sent Israel out from the land, the Philistines send out the ark with gold and treasure upon an ox cart.<br /><br />YHWH is not captive to the rule of the wicked or the false worship of the chosen. He is not captive to the wisdom of the men whether among the counsels of the wicked or the courts of the godly. All fall down before his glory, his word, his holy reign.<br /><br />Forgetting their high and holy calling, the Levites of Kirjath Jearim assume they have a right to handle the holy. And terror destroys the people. Instead of crying out for mercy, they send YHWH on his way.<br /><br />In the midst of YHWH's travel, Samuel calls upon the people of God to humble themselves before Him, to forsake their false gods and to return to His covenantal rule. Israel falls before the holy call and responds in the only proper way to the Holy God: "Lord, we have sinned against you. Have mercy!"<br /><br />As the people humble themselves, the holy power of God arises. Not limited to a mere box, God rests upon his servant Samuel and the enemies of the people of God are crushed. The Philistines fall before the Lord who remembers His people.<br /><br />As we plan and plot our crusades, our towering temples, and glorious growth plans, may we fall down before the holy God. His name will be Holy among His people. And those who are not broken before our covenantal King, will be crushed. Lord have mercy on your people. Forgive the mockery of your commandments, the sin that runs rampant at the gate of the house of the Lord and the presumption that you must do our bidding. Lord have mercy. May your glory be raised high as a banner before your people.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-56525575122352002412008-04-19T16:46:00.004-05:002008-04-19T16:50:12.135-05:00No other gods!I've been writing and reflecting some on the 10 Commandments over at <a href="http://dougfloyd.wordpress.com/category/commandments/">Doug Watching</a>. Here is a meditation I wrote trying to explore one aspect of the first word.<br /><br />No other gods! The command shatters the illusion of our successes, revealing us as enslaved by the idols we worship and serve. Even as I hear the words, I know: I am an idolater.<br /><br />In my pursuit of God, I’ve often looked to the places of provision as the person of provision. But God alone is the person of our provision. He alone will meet our needs.<br /><br />I am a needy person. I need more than just food and clothes. I need to feel like I have value. I need to find pleasure. I need peace in my heart. I need answers the questions that plague my mind. I need friendships. I need to opportunity to grow and to explore and to learn and to laugh. Many of these needs are intangible and difficult to define, and yet if the need is not met, I may struggle to even make through the day.<br /><br />Take peace of mind for instance. When I left college, I entered a dark night of the soul where the peace of God seemed to depart, and I felt alone. My circumstances had not changed. I still had food and clothes and income and family, and yet inwardly I felt like my whole world was crumbling apart.<br /><br />I’ve come to think that we have far more needs that we can even name. Some needs seem selfish like the need to enjoy. And yet, the kingdom of God is righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit. We are created for joy. And for much more. For every need we have, He is the one true provider.<br /><br />He created us and formed us to trust Him to meet all our needs—even our needs to become like Him and to love completely. He is the person of provision for all our needs, and yet He is free to use different people and places as He sees fit. <br /><br />We could mistake the people or the place as the one actually meeting the meet. Israel did this time and again. In Egypt, they eventually worshipped the gods of the land. Egypt was the place of provision but YHWH was the person of provision. As they prepared to enter the Promised Land, God told them that they would enjoy a fruitful, prosperous land much like Eden. <br /><br />But they must never forget that YHWH is the one who provided their needs in that land, or else they would fall subject to enslavement and judgment. God raised them up to bless them and make them a blessing for the nations, but He warned them not worship any other gods.<br /><br />No other gods! Violating this command means trusting something other then God and falling prey to the control of something other than god. It makes us less than human. We no longer have the power to bless because we are enslaved. Violating this command begins a cascade of violating other commands.<br /><br />I know this pattern all to well because of my own tendency to worship other gods. In teaching me to trust, God has often invited me into a season of testing when one or more of my needs seem to be ignored. Instead of crying out to God, I’ve looked to the places or the people where God met my needs in the past. Instead of trusting Him as my Creator, I found myself trusting in His creation or creatures. And they will always fail me.<br /><br />When I cannot trust God alone as my provider, I may look to the person beside me and wonder why they have what I don’t have. So I fall prey to coveting. Then I may grow bitter toward them and even speak words that are unkind about them: bearing false witness.<br /><br />One by one I begin violating each command: thoughts of self pity, anger, lust, consume me. Created to be a king and priest in the land, I can no longer serve and bless a world in need. I am now corrupt in my thoughts, bitter in my heart, and violating the command to love God and love man. My only hope is to cry out in repentance and ask God to restore to me that simple trust in His provision.<br /><br />In his goodness, He does restore. He is teaching and training us to be a people with no other Gods. In the end, this command becomes a great blessing. It is the blessing of being cared for by a Covenant God. It is the blessing of the lilies of the field. I can learn to trust. Simply. Like a child. <br /><br />And as I child, I can be free. Free from inhibitions caused by fear of embarrassment or failure. I can be free to love, to risk, to play, to try new things. Free to bless the people all around me, sinner and saint alike, pointing them all to the ever-flowing provision of our Covenant God.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-26584825887318641922008-04-01T00:25:00.001-05:002008-04-01T00:26:58.484-05:00A Gift with Strings AttachedMeditations on the Ten Commandments<br /><br />Last weekend, a small group of folks joined me for a retreat about meditating on the Ten Commandments. This retreat started out as a weekend focused on the discipline of meditation. In the past, I’ve led similar retreats and explored the tradition of prayer and reflection upon God’s Word. But in preparation for the retreat, I soaked in Psalm 119 and felt impressed to follow the model of meditation presented in the Psalm: meditation upon the Law and particularly upon the 10 Commandments or Testimonies of God. <br /><br />Now I realize the retreat was barely scratching the surface and I plan to spend more time reflecting upon the riches of the 10 Commandments. Here is the first in a series:<br /><br />4/1/2008<br />The Gift with Strings Attached<br />As we enjoy April Fool’s Day what better way to celebrate than with a few thoughts on God’s wisdom that is foolishness to man.<br /><br />I’ve always thought that a real gift should have “no strings attached.” Otherwise, the gift seems to be more like a way to control another person. I give them a gift with hope of controlling them in some form. Thus the strings are like puppet strings used to make a person act in the way I move the strings.<br /><br />And yet, God gives a gift with strings attached.<br /><br />After years of crying out for deliverance from the cruel hand of Pharaoh, the Israelites finally see God’s answer in His strong hand of deliverance. He breaks the chains of bondage and promises a gift of a land, flowing with milk and honey: a new Eden where they can prosper and enjoy the goodness of the Lord.<br /><br />This promised gift comes with strings attached. This gift comes with 10 Commandments that form the basis of a Law that will govern every detail of their world from social events to worship to family life. These laws are given with expectation that blessing will follow obedience and cursing will follow disobedience.<br /><br />So promises of land comes with certain expectations. At first, this doesn’t seem like much of a gift. But it might also be seen as a gift the is so precious that it’s value can only be realized in and through these expectations.<br /><br />Consider the gift of an engagement ring. A young man offers his girlfriend the gift of ring that symbolizes their relationship and commitment to one another. If she accepts the gift, she is also accepting the offer of marriage. In other words, the gift comes with certain expectations or “strings attached.”<br /><br />When the girl accepts the gift, it is often though of as the most precious gift in her possession--even if it is merely a “cigar band.” The expectations of covenant relationship make the gift a priceless treasure.<br /><br />On Mount Sinai, YHWH offers Israel a gift with strings attached. The Ten Commandments will forever stand as a sign of covenant love between him and his chosen people. By accepting the gift, they discover strings that reach back to the heart of a loving God. The bond or covenant between the people and God is so intimate that it is often likened to that of a marriage.<br /><br />And thus in the giving of the Law, we discover the very picture of Christ and the Church, and His precious gift of love to redeem His bride. <br /><br />Let us embrace the strings of His love and rejoice that He has bound us to Him by writing the Law of God upon our hearts of flesh—just as He promised.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-4566440627507645962008-03-03T11:33:00.000-05:002008-03-03T11:34:46.080-05:00Meditation Retreat - March 28-30Meditation<br />Listening to the wisdom of God’s Word.<br /><br />On the weekend of March 28 – 30 a few of us will gather to spend time discussing and meditating upon the Word of God. I invite you to consider joining for us for this time to reflect upon how God teaches us wisdom through His Word. This will be the first retreat in our series of retreats this year on cultivating the wisdom of God in our lives<br /><br />During this weekend we’ll talk about the relationship between meditation and the Law, meditation and the fear of the Lord, meditation and the beginning of wisdom. While we’ll spend time in a group, we’ll also have plenty of time to meditate. <br /><br />Dallas Willard once suggested that the most popular retreats are typically on “knowing the will of God” or “hearing the voice of God.” We desire to understand God’s guidance in our lives, and the idea that we can hear him more clearly stirs our soul. Unfortunately, this longing sometimes causes people to feel even more distant from God. <br /><br />Either their own lives do not reflect the dramatic stories they’ve read, or their own personal times of devotion seem cold and ineffectual. During this weekend, we’ll consider the pattern revealed in the psalms of meditating upon the Word of God. <br /><br />The psalmist teaches that meditating upon the law of the Lord will make us like fruitful trees: <br />But his delight is in the law of the LORD,<br /> and on his law he meditates day and night.<br />He shall be like a tree<br /> Planted by the rivers of water,<br /> That brings forth its fruit in its season,<br /> Whose leaf also shall not wither;<br /> And whatever he does shall prosper.<br />Psalm 1:2-3<br /><br />Accommodations: I’ve rented a nice cabin overlooking the Smoky Mountains for the weekend. <br /><br />Reservations: Please email me (doug@springoflight.org) if you plan to come. I will send out information to help you prepare for the retreat. <br /><br />Costs: The approximate cost of the cabin will be about $75 per person. Everyone is welcome to come regardless of whether or not you can afford it.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-60216780411532649932008-02-22T10:29:00.000-05:002008-02-22T10:30:55.970-05:00Dusty SaintsThe psalmist cries out to the Lord,<br /><br />“My soul clings to the dust;<br />Revive me according to Your word.”<br /><br />During Lent, the cry of the psalmist becomes the cry of God’s people. Like Adam we hear the resounding Word of God announcing, “For you are dust and to dust you will return” (Genesis 3:19).<br /><br />Unlike the birds, we have flown beyond the horizon to the moon, and we may even fly to Mars. Unlike the fish we have learned how to live under the sea and upon the land. Unlike the ants, we’ve built buildings that stand and stand and stand and continue to stand. Unlike the apes, we’ve formed clans and towns and cites and nations.<br /><br />While inspired by the world around us, humans continually discover new ways to rise above the natural order. Like gods, we create, we rule, we master, we thrive. In rain and drought, we survive. We work in darkness and light. When new obstacles cross our path, we learn ways to surmount the obstacles and even use the energy from our struggle to grow even stronger.<br /><br />Diseases may threaten us but eventually, we find ways to overcome. Even while facing the dreaded cancer, diabetes, heart disease and AIDs, we don’t give up. In fact, we are discovering more and more solutions to fight and win the battle against these threats.<br /><br />The accomplishments of humanity boggle the mind. We live in a time of such exploding innovation that no one can even keep up with all the new discoveries that surface day after day after day.<br /><br />We are lords of creation, and yet, we are still nothing more than dust. In spite of our power, our creations, our glory, we are fading. Soon we will die. And soon we will be forgotten. Like the grass, we wither and fall and fade.<br /><br />We are but dust and to dust we will return.<br /><br />When God decided to image Himself, He created a world. From this world, He took the dust and breathed upon it, and “man became a living being.” In spite of our accomplishments, we have no life outside of the breath that sustains us each moment.<br /><br />Take that breath away, and we falter and fade. Thus the psalmist prays, “My soul clings to dust.” And yet, even as he acknowledges his dustiness, he calls upon the Word of God to revive him. The psalmist knows that the Word of God breathes life into his dust, for the Word is forever settled in heaven (Psalm 119:89).<br /><br />While we rejoice and celebrate the wonder of human accomplishments, let us not be intimidated by the appearance of human mastery. We are not of the universe after all. Our kingdoms fall. Our innovations fail. Our power fades. We are but dust.<br /><br />As we journey through the Lenten wilderness, let us cling to the Word of the Lord. His breath sustains, his Word creates and re-creates us. And by His grace alone, we can feed upon the Word that will stand forever.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-40601581426887226752008-02-14T08:50:00.003-05:002008-02-14T08:55:24.398-05:00Lent - The CallFor those who have not heard, the "Living Room" at Spring of Light caught on fire last week. We've evacuated and will probably not return to that location. We lost all our furniture, most electronics and some books. But many books should be able to be restored - thank the Lord. I posted a little slideshow at <a href="http://dougfloyd.wordpress.com/2008/02/14/spring-of-light-community/">Doug Watching</a>.<br /><br />February 14, 2008<br /><br />When I first heard it, I turned to see who was addressing me, but all eyes were on the singer at the front. The voice seemed too articulate to be a thought passing though my mind. And the words…the words seemed so mundane. God’s call to me didn’t come with trumpets and prophecies of glory and fire. But rather, I heard a still small voice say, “The time is not yet.”<br /><br />For the past year, I had been considering exchanging my dreams of filmmaking for a life of ministry. Leading a drama team and speaking at various local churches stirred a vision in me to cry out and call a slumbering church to renewal. Our pastor consulted me on seminary plans where I could pursue a life in ministry. <br /><br />Now those plans began to fade as an understated voice let me know that “the time is not yet.” Somehow I realized that this was a call of renunciation. I was being called to let go of my ideas of ministry, to let go of my passion to a build God’s kingdom, to let go of my plan for the days ahead. The voice was calling me to pilgrimage.<br /><br />The psalmist writes, “Blessed is the man whose heart is set on pilgrimage” (Psalm 84). As we begin the 40 days of lent, we remember this call to pilgrimage. A pilgrimage is different than an adventure. J.R.R. Tolkien distinguished an adventure from a journey as a “there and back again tale.” We head out on an adventure, we have an exciting time and we might even risk our lives, but at the end of the adventure we return home. But leaving on a journey means never coming home.<br /><br />While a pilgrimage may seem like a “here and back again tale,” it is really a journey of renunciation with no hope of looking back. Jesus invited his disciples to pilgrimage and suggested “looking back” was not a luxury afforded to disciples.<br /><br />During lent, we are reminded that the call of faith is a call of renunciation. In one sense, all of us really are “poor wayfaring pilgrims.” The Lord of glory calls us from the future, inviting us to let go and keep letting go and keep letting go. Abraham was called forth to leave behind the world he knew. <br /><br />The ancient Celts set forth on pilgrimage as peregrini, searching for their “place of resurrection.” The peregrini were not driven by “wanderlust” but rather of sense of obedience. Leaving the homes they loved, they traveled across the British Isles and the European continent, setting up little communities of faith along the way. <br /><br />In some sense, we still hear that same call of renunciation. We are called to search for our place of resurrection and establish communities of faith as we go. 22 years ago, I heard a quiet, non-dramatic call, “the time is not yet,” and today I still feel the echoes of that call shaking my body and mind. <br /><br />As we growing older, the act of renunciation often becomes more difficult. We grow comfortable accumulating stuff. From books and clothes and trinkets to ideas and habits and attitudes. Every so often, the voice comes booming forth, “the time is not yet.” <br /><br />It’s not time to settle yet. It’s not time to sleep yet. It’s not time to die yet. I wrote that last line because at the end of my kidney illness, I assumed the journey was closing and soon I would leave. But the Father gently said, “the time is not yet.”<br /><br />Our little Spring of Light community started lent with this reminder. The fire in our beloved “Living Room” gave us the opportunity to step forth as pilgrims once again. We won’t return to that building but will step forward into the next world our Father is preparing. <br /><br />Whether you observe lent or not, I encourage you to listen and follow the gentle prodding of our Father. No matter how young or old, He continues to gently call us forward into the fullness of His kingdom. As we stop to look at all we’ve accomplished or accumulated, he reminds us, “the time is not yet.”Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-1941606262749700552007-12-21T15:58:00.000-05:002007-12-21T16:03:37.179-05:00Open Your Eyes and ...One more Santa email and then I move on. Here is a meditation from 2005.<br /><br />Every time I watch “Miracle on 34th Street,” I get a strange, hopeful feeling that this just might be true. Who knows? The guy in the red suit down at the mall might just be the real thing. All of the sudden, the anxious, excited, hopefully pangs of childhood stir in my belly. Instantly, I remember visiting Santa Claus as a child. Instantly, the past becomes the present.<br /><br />I don’t remember ever being afraid of Santa…or clowns for that matter. I do remember being shy and a little bit nervous. The kind of excited nervousness one might feel when looking out across the Niagara Falls. Standing that close to such concentrated power is both exhilarating and a little overwhelming. That’s how Santa made me feel. Someone with such awesome power was nearby.<br /><br />During Christmas, Santa visited Gimbels, our local department store. During the rest of the year, other visitors appeared: the Jolly Green Giant, Humpty Dumpty, a variety of clowns and a host of other storybook characters. Each time we came to the store, I would peer at them through the racks. My heart raced, my hands sweated, and I stood awestruck just watching these otherworldly characters.<br /><br />For a little boy with large imagination, these characters somehow represented the sacred, the holy other. The limitations of our world did not confine them. Their sizes, their colors, their powers and their stories all broke the ordinary conventions of this world. These characters were extra-ordinary.<br /><br />At some point, the clock struck midnight and the magic of childhood evaporated. The big clowns climbed back in their little cars and drove away. Santa lost his sleigh and became just another sales associate trying to help the malls make more money.<br /><br />Yet from time to time, I feel the pangs again. From time to time, I begin to see again and sometimes even believe. When I watch movies like “Miracle on 34th Street” I wonder, “Is it possible?” Then like waking up from Dorothy’s Oz, I see these characters all around me—in the faces of my friends.<br /><br />As I look at my friends, I realize that the characters never really did disappear. They’ve been with me, all along. I just grew accustomed to the magic and lost my sight.<br /><br />All these larger than life characters, like Santa Claus and the Jolly Green Giant, exaggerate certain features. Santa has an unlimited supply of gifts for the world. The Jolly Green Giant is jolly, green and a giant. Chesterton used to say, “All the exaggerations are right, if they exaggerate the right thing.” Maybe a little exaggerated giving is not so bad. And of course, no one can be too jolly. Can they?<br /><br />As far as green goes, well, I’m not sure what to say. But my folks did tell me about a man who ate so many carrots his skin turned orange.<br /><br />The more I think about it, the more I realize that I have known some pretty exaggerated characters in my life. I once had a friend who was convinced he possessed some of Spiderman’s abilities. And I must admit, he did seem to climb up walls fairly easily.<br /><br />I had another friend who wanted to possess some mind reading power. He would tell people to think of a card and then promptly present the supposed card. Usually the thought and the card did not match. He may not have been a mind reader, but he did possess an amazing discernment of people and their moral fiber. In college, I studied Astronomy with a guy who looked like he came right off the mountaintop with a shaved head, overalls and big teeth. And yet, he was a know it all: a real one. He really did know it all. His ability to remember facts and details astounded me.<br /><br />The more I look around, the more I realize these fantastic fairy tale characters are real people. And they’re everywhere I turn. They’re in front of me in the grocery store. They’re beside me on the highway. They’re taking my lunch order.<br /><br />I’ve come to believe everyone I meet is extra-ordinary. There is no ordinary person. Each person is exceptional, unique, larger than life, and mysterious.<br /><br />I could spend a lifetime studying one person, any person, and never fully plummet the depths of their mystery. Created in the image of God, human persons reveal aspects of wonder and glory that can be breathtaking. Their power for good, and evil, is overwhelming.<br /><br />In the common graces of God, each person I encounter is wonder-filled. When I finally begin to see this, I feel the pang again. I realize I’ve been born into a fairy tale world of fascinating characters. There are no ordinary, common unexceptional people. Each person is a treasure, a marvel, a glorious being, a sacred other. In spite of our flaws, I can see through each person to see the hand of our Creator, revealing His glory in all things.<br /><br />This season I am seeking new eyes to really see the majestic wonder of all the people around me. Open your eyes, you might be surprised at who you might meet.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-68788120607475457412007-12-20T09:20:00.001-05:002007-12-20T09:24:03.048-05:00Advent - Santa and the Wonder of BeliefHere's a meditation I wrote 3 years ago about the magic of Christmas. Like Chesterton, I learned to believe in God in the fairy tales of childhood. Here is on attempt to capture that believe in wonder.<br /><br />Every year cartoons and movies retell the same story: the story of a child or an adult who has lost the wonder of Christmas, “the Christmas spirit.” Every year the tale of innocence and experience is retold through the lens of Santa Claus and a heart that needs only believe. <br /><br />Christmas is the time when we hope, we wish, we dream it might all really be true. Of course, we know better. And yet deep within us there is a longing for that place called the North Pole. The sophisticated refuse to waste their thoughts or time with such pointless dreaming, ah but the child in all of us longs for the dream to come true.<br /><br />In our Christmas stories, we express the truths our imagination knows to be true, even when our intellect says otherwise. I believe that our stories embody our deepest beliefs: the beliefs that are fundamental to our whole understanding of the world. <br /><br />Some parents hoping to protect their children give them presents but refuse to give them the stories of Christmas. But maybe stories are more important than an endless supply of boxed toys that will soon be discarded. Long after the specific toys are forgotten, the stories will be remembered. The stories shape us: they shape the boundaries of our imagination; they shape our understanding of the world—both seen and unseen.<br /><br />And what do our Christmas stories tell us? What we believe really matters. The magic of Christmas is veiled to the unbeliever. For them it is only commerce—buying and exchanging of presents. But for those who believe, we know the Christmas present reminds us that the greatest treasures cannot be purchased: they can only be received as gifts. The believer offers milk and cookies in gratitude. <br /><br />After we sit in the glow of our twinkling Christmas trees inside, we might notice the glorious glow of our trees outside: and for that matter our grass and our bushes may look a little brighter. The world around is not as dull and dreary as we had come to believe, but is really an explosive symphony of light.<br /><br />When we see the Santa strolling through the mall, we reminded of a goodness and a kindness and an unending benevolence just north of all we can see or hear. <br /><br />We are not alone. <br /><br />And who knows how often we entertain angels unaware?<br /><br />In the swirl of Santas, and snowmen, and songs of sleigh rides, we discover something else—a lean to, a broke down barn, a rustic shelter. Inside this stable lies a baby that bears the hopes of all the ages.<br /><br />Once again, the manger is an embarrassment to the sophisticated. How could the God of the ages come to earth as a poor child? Yet this tragically beautiful tale captures the imagination: a virgin with child, a cold winter night, no place in the inn, a miracle birth, shepherds and angels and wise men. And in the center of the story: the hope of hopes lying helpless on the hay. <br /><br />This is the myth of myths, the story of all stories. The story of the God who comes to earth as man—not to betray the world, not to oppress or destroy but to love in weakness. To embrace the downtrodden, love the unlovely, heal the broken heart, preach freedom to the captives, the bear the weight of every pain, every fear, every sin, to overcome evil with goodness, and to overcome death with life forevermore.<br /><br />We fear the story is too good to be true. Because ultimately we fear good stories cannot be true. We’ve seen too much pain, too much loss, too much needless suffering. We’ve lost our innocence to the dark reality of this cruel world. In the midst of this dark world, a light still shines. <br /><br />Dare we believe? Dare we become childlike again? Dare we believe that our stories were pointing to something real? Dare we believe in someone who created us for a life beyond all we ever could hope or imagine?<br /><br />This Christmas we might truly discover the Spirit of Christmas. Or rather, he might waken us to the wonder of a love that we have longed for all our lives.<br /><br />“O come let us adore him, Christ the Lord.”Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-66818962298070382962007-12-18T09:57:00.000-05:002007-12-18T09:58:08.791-05:00Advent - RememberingThis week, the rhythm of advent shifts from looking forward and anticipating the return of the Son to looking back and remembering His first coming. Each year the church pauses to remember through stories, songs, plays and pictures. We remember, retell, reconsider, rehearse.<br /><br />To re-hearse is to "hearse again." That word causes me to stop and think. When I think of rehearsing, I think of practicing my lines for an upcoming performance. So what does this have to do with a hearse?<br /><br />A hearse refers to a tomb, an encasing, an elaborate framework used in ceremonies commemorating those who have died. So a hearse helps us remember those who died. Hearse comes from the word "harrow," which means to cultivate, break up, tear apart the land.<br /><br />Each year the farmer re-harrows the land before planting. Each year we re-harrow our lives by remembering the incarnation of God in our midst. We must rehearse or else our minds grow hard, cold, infertile and forgetful.<br /><br />Our land has forgotten the ancient stories, and I fear our churches have as well. One friend who has served his mother struggling with Alzheimer's disease suggested to me that the prevalence of this disease in our time seems to be a sign of a culture that has forgotten their roots. Failing to re-harrow, we suffer from memory loss.<br /><br />The church didn't always set aside a time for remembering the birth of Christ. An intentional focus on remembering the birth of Christ came in response to a heresy that suggested Jesus was never really born in human flesh: he was simply a spirit that came to enlighten us. So the church decided to re-harrow, remember, rehearse the ancient tale of God made flesh.<br /><br />This act of remembering was an act of war against thoughts and ideas fighting to diminish God's action in human history. And the war still rages. The culture continues to forget and diminish and discard the wonder of God, the gift of God, the blessing of God upon us.<br /><br />The festive trappings that overshadow our season of remembrance can be frustrating. As Frosty, Rudolph and Santa loom larger than the Lord of Glory we may feel shut out from our own party.<br /><br />I would suggest the response to this mass forgetfulness is not anger but remembering, re-hearsing. Let us revisit the ancient stories. Let us remember the babe in the manger, the shepherds in the field, the angels in the sky. But let us deepen our memory, reaching further back into the story.<br /><br />Let us revisit the story of creation, the story of the garden. Let us brood deeply upon the flood, the tower of Babel, the call of Abraham. Let us pause at the enslavement in Egypt, the wondrous journey to the land of promise, the time of the great judges. Let us reconsider the glory and tragedy in the kingdom of Israel. Let us weep with Jeremiah at the destruction of temple, and dream with Ezekiel at the temple to come.<br /><br /><br />As we reread, remember, rehearse these stories, we come to realize with the writer of Hebrews that we are part of the story. Their story is our story. The story of the Jesus is our story. The miraculous birth, the announcement in the Temple, the flight to Egypt: these are all part of our story.<br /><br />We are part of the journey from the mount of Transfiguration to the mount of Golgotha to the mount of Zion. This is our story, our testimony. Let us remember and retell and rehearse our story.<br /><br />During this time of remembering, I encourage you to pause and rehearse the story of our Savior born in Bethlehem. Let it cut deep in your heart. I trust the Spirit of grace will come and break up our fallow ground, restoring us by "re-storying" us in His grand drama of redemption and recreation.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-85038136746201225482007-12-17T10:37:00.000-05:002007-12-17T10:39:56.408-05:00Advent - Hidden GloryHis memory betrayed the hour at hand. For even as Zerubbabel rallied the returned exiles to rebuild the temple at Jerusalem, his memories recalled another temple. The glory of Solomon's temple dulled this present project. Built at the height of Solomon's reign, the temple reflected the hope and glory of a people set apart to worship and proclaim the one true God.<br /><br />Zerubbabel grew up in the shadow of stories from ancient Israel. His great grandfather, King Josiah, seeking to restore the ancient fervor, renewed the covenant with the Lord and called on the whole nation to worship the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob. But the dark disobedience of his fathers required judgment, and the nation fell captive to Babylon.<br /><br />Leading a band of exiles back to Jerusalem, the elder Zerubbabel was commissioned to oversee the rebuilding of the temple. This temple was not the product of Israel's great wealth and glory and power as reflected in Solomon's temple. No this temple would be built by a group of broken, humiliated and poverty-stricken people.<br /><br />Under the direction of their captors, they were sent back to the land to rebuild the ancient ruins. As Zerubbabel looked over the process of rebuilding, his heart grieved - for his memories denied the hope before him. All he could see were the glory days of what once was and would never be again. How can a leader inspire his people when his vision for tomorrow has been extinguished by yesterday?<br /><br />Haggai comes from the court of the Lord to encourage Zerubbabel.<br /><br />"Be strong,' says the Lord, 'for I am with you.'" Then under the inspiration of the God's Spirit, Haggai recalls a more ancient memory. "According to the word that I covenanted with you when you came out of Egypt, so my Spirit remains among you: do not fear!"<br /><br />The same God who rescued a broken band of slaves in Egypt, now speaks to a broked band of exiles. "For thus sayeth the Lord of hosts: 'Once more (it is a little while) I will shake heaven and earth, the sea and the dry land; and I will shake all nations, and they shall come to the Desire of All Nations, and I will fill this temple with glory,' says the Lord of hosts."<br /><br />Something deep inside Zerubbabel awakens to the call of God. As he listens, the hope of glory continues, "The glory of this latter temple shall be greater than the former,' says the Lord of hosts. 'And in this place I will give peace,' says the Lord of hosts."<br /><br /><br />What Zerubbabel could not see was God's hand acting through Zerubbabel and all the exiles to prepare the way for a temple not made by hands. The glory of the latter temple was great because God was moving to bring all nations to the holy mount Zion.<br /><br />Today we prepare our hearts to celebrate the coming of the Son. We remember the coming of the Savior in the manger. Just as Zerubbabel's temple seemed a dull reflection to Solomon's temple, so the birth of Jesus seemed but a dull reflection to the birth of Solomon, the Golden Son. Today we remember, we celebrate, we rejoice in the birth of Jesus—not the birth of Solomon.<br /><br />As we prepare our hearts for His coming afresh, may we have eyes to see the glory of the Lord hidden in ancient ruins, broken places and out-of-the-way mangers.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-11986566052633493702007-12-13T17:47:00.000-05:002007-12-13T17:48:07.608-05:00Advent - The Longest NightIn the older Julian calendar, tonight would be the longest night of the year, as the light of day gave way to an engulfing dark expanse. The church responded to this bleak time by celebrating St. Lucy, a young woman martyred for her faith in the 3rd century. <br /><br />While little is known about Lucy, her name means "light," so Lucy's Day became a way of reminding the church of God's light upon His people in the midst of dark seasons. According to one legend, her eyes were gouged out before her death, yet she could still see. <br /><br />Today many Norwegians, Swedes and Danes still celebrate the feast of St. Lucy. Some young girls will memorialize Lucy by dressing in white and wearing a crown of candlelight. <br /><br />When the sun fades from our horizon and twilight gives way to encroaching dark, shadows may seem more real than the fading glories of day. The fear that seemed so weak and foolish just hours ago, now looms large in our imaginations. In spite of our fast-talking, clever minded mockery of darkness, no one can escape the struggles of the human soul. <br /><br />We learn to manage our schedules, but we cannot manage out the pain of broken relationships. Our intelligence, our wit, our technology cannot save us from disappointments, tragedies, offenses, and misunderstandings. We’ve learned to treat a multitude of sicknesses and physical problems, yet our bodies are not immune to sickness and death.<br /><br />The Christian faith doesn’t hide from this darkness or deny its existence, but it looks beyond the darkness to a God of light and hope and love. Some people scorn this faith as blindness or pollyanish piety, and they are free to do so.<br /><br />In the midst of their sneers, we will continue to look into the darkness of a starless night with eyes to see the Uncreated Light of love. Isaiah looked out upon a crumbling kingdom. He saw the impending demise of a once great hope descending rapidly into darkness. Morality was fading and the enemies came crouching: ready to descend upon the prey of God’s forgetful people.<br /><br />He saw the darkness. Yet he also saw the light. He saw the lion lay down with the lamb. He saw a little child playing in the midst of snakes. He saw men turning weapons of war into tool for planting and harvesting. He saw beyond the horizon of man’s wisdom to a God will reveals a peaceable kingdom in the midst of a world that appears to be lost for good.<br /><br />His words continue to inspire and stir of world of believers…and unbelievers. No matter how deep the darkness. Now matter how loud and how long the scorners scorn. The people of God are called to look beyond the arm of human flesh to the Creator who dwells in unapproachable light.<br /><br />Trusting in the goodness of God revealed in Jesus Christ, we look toward the light of His unchanging love. As we look out in hope, we see His light shining and revealing lights all around us. We see the uncountable multitudes of people like Lucy who quietly trust the Lord in the midst of a world bent on destruction. <br /><br />And as we behold the unveiling of God’s light in darkness, we walk toward His light, revealing the reconciling power of His love in and through our frail and failing lives.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-18785238874414784062007-12-12T21:55:00.000-05:002007-12-12T21:56:30.170-05:00Advent and the Justice of God“Truly God is good to Israel,<br />To such that are pure in heart.<br />But as for me,<br />My step had nearly slipped.<br />For I was envious of the boastful,<br />When I saw the prosperity of the wicked.”<br />(Psalm 73:1-2)<br /><br />In his confusion, the psalmist cries out to God. The great high God of Israel seems to turn a blind eye to those who mock his name. The people of God falter while the wicked appear to be exalted.<br /><br />The psalmist’s anguished question still rings in the hearts of God’s people. From businesses to families to nations, we watch evil people prosper. We see the people who take shortcuts move ahead. And it seems like those who try to walk right often fail.<br /><br />Then the psalmist beholds the coming judgment, and he realizes that a day of accounting is coming. He rests in the fact that God will make things right. <br /><br />The Christian Celts anticipated judgment day. In St. Patrick’s Breastplate they pray that they might be clothed “with the power of His descent to pronounce judgment of Doomsday.” In their manuscripts and crosses, Jesus is sometimes depicted at the “dread judge” coming to hold all men accountable for their evil deeds.<br /><br />During Advent, we actually look to the coming Judgment Day. We expect a righting of wrongs, a day of rectitude. We may look toward this day, like ancient Israel, as a day when we will be proved right and those who opposed us will be exposed as in the wrong. We may expect this as a time when we will finally be vindicated. <br /><br />As we look toward the coming day of days, we behold a day that came. The great day of woe was realized when the baby born in a manger grew up to be the man who bore the weight of sin and death. Jesus entered into the final judgment. He bore the crushing weight of woe upon himself.<br /><br />This act of absolute justice strikes to the heart of evil. The cross heals my blinded eyes to see that I am not on the side of the righteous but on the side of the oppressors. While I cried out for justice, my own evil betrayed me as the offender. While I longed for my enemies to be exposed and humiliated and conquered, I was exposed as the one clothed in filthy rags. <br /><br />Only then can I realize that what appears to be God’s blindness to evil is actually his longsuffering mercy. While some people think the God of the Old Testament is the God of vengeance, they are mistaken. The story actually reveals a God who is longsuffering, who continues to show mercy to evildoers, who withholds judgment again and again and again. Finally when he does bring judgment, He also brings a hope of restoration and redemption. <br /><br />In the midst of revealing God’s judgment upon the evil in Israel, Zephaniah pictures a God who restores in gentle, lovingkindess. <br /><br />The Lord your God in your midst,<br />The Mighty One, will save:<br />He will rejoice over you with gladness,<br />He will quiet you with His love,<br />He will rejoice over you with singing.<br />(Zephaniah 3:17)<br /><br />As I look to the final unveiling of God’s justice, I no longer look with a fist of anger at those who cheated me, betrayed me, hurt me. Rather, I anticipate the complete unveiling of God’s glory with humility, realizing my own failures, my own tendency to hurt and cheat and betray. During this season of Advent, I look toward the end of all things and cry out with the publican, “Lord have mercy.”Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-1516677362497157292007-12-05T21:59:00.001-05:002007-12-05T22:02:17.563-05:00The Dawn of a New DayIn the dark of night, the sky gives no hints that the sun will rise again. And yet we look with expectancy for another day to come. We remember the reliable regularity of a sun that rises in the sky every day of our lives. <br /><br />In the earliest moments of dawn, the darkness must give way to the unstoppable light that fills the heavens. Advent comes to the weary pilgrims, crossing the crushing expanse of night. Like the promise of a coming dawn, it reminds those with crushed dreams and broken hearts that the Son has come, is coming and will come again. <br /><br />I have known darkness that clouds and fills the lungs with smothering despair. And by God’s unspeakable grace, I have seen the light of a day that I thought might never come again. This advent I remember, and I rest in the utter faithfulness of my Creator.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-37820853105201140402007-12-05T21:59:00.000-05:002007-12-05T22:00:53.249-05:00The Dawn of a New DayIn the dark of night, the sky gives no hints that the sun will rise again. And yet we look with expectancy for another day to come. We remember the reliable regularity of a sun that rises in the sky every day of our lives. <br /><br />In the earliest moments of dawn, the darkness must give way to the unstoppable light that fills the heavens. Advent comes to the weary pilgrims, crossing the crushing expanse of night. Like the promise of a coming dawn, it reminds those with crushed dreams and broken hearts that the Son has come, is coming and will come again. <br /><br />I have known darkness that clouds and fills the lungs with smothering despair. And by God’s unspeakable grace, I have seen the light of a day that I thought might never come again. This advent I remember, and I rest in the utter faithfulness of my Creator.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-70182216009548326212007-12-04T10:38:00.001-05:002007-12-04T10:39:39.904-05:00Remembering the FutureRemembering the Future<br />Looking forward with hope is active resistance the experiences of life. The longer we live, the more we experience the pain, discouragement, disappointment and seeming hopeless of life. People disappointment us. We disappointment ourselves. Nothing lives up to the hype.<br /><br />Isaiah realized that he was a man of unclean lips and he lived among a people of unclean lips. The very people chosen to reveal the goodness and glory of the Creator could not. They were flawed and failed. Their kingdom split and their history is not a story of ever-increasing glory but a story a darker and darker defilement. They fail God. They fail the world.<br /><br />Isaiah exclaims that the people have “turned away backward.” They’ve become a desolate nation full of corruptors. They abuse one another. They oppress the weak. They forsake the fatherless. In other words, they look a lot like our world today. Looking around at our world of war, we cannot help but see ripples of unfaithfulness and broken relationships. <br /><br />Nations war against nations. And this war is not limited to one or two or three geographical regions of the world. We are all at war. We war with our neighbors. We war with our friends. Even in the family and the church we see pain and betrayal. The places that should be provide a place for love to flourish sometimes foster the deepest violations of intimacy. It is easy to become bitter, hurt and lose hope that life can really be meaningful and love can truly prevail.<br /><br />Facing this dark world, Isaiah remembers. By the grace of God, he remembers the faithfulness of God. He remembers the promises of God. He remembers the longsuffering of God. Looking back through the story of Israel’s failures, he also sees another picture. The longsuffering God prevails upon His people again and again. <br /><br />Our friends may fail us. Our country may fail us. Our lovers may fail us. We have failed us. For if we are truly honest, we have also failed the people around us. Yet this longsuffering God is still at work in our world and our lives.<br /><br />In the midst of a bleak, yet honest vision of human failure, we need God’s grace to remember rightly. As we remember His longsuffering, we remember that grace has prevailed and will prevail in our lives and our world. Like Isaiah we see beyond the bleak disappointments of life and learn to hope. <br /><br />As we wait and long for the fullness of love, let us remember the future with Isaiah and behold the longsuffering love of God prevailing in our families, our culture and our world.<br /><br />Isaiah 2:2-5<br />2 Now it shall come to pass in the latter days<br /> That the mountain of the LORD’s house<br /> Shall be established on the top of the mountains,<br /> And shall be exalted above the hills;<br /> And all nations shall flow to it.<br /> 3 Many people shall come and say,<br /><br /> “ Come, and let us go up to the mountain of the LORD,<br /> To the house of the God of Jacob;<br /> He will teach us His ways,<br /> And we shall walk in His paths.”<br /> For out of Zion shall go forth the law,<br /> And the word of the LORD from Jerusalem.<br /> 4 He shall judge between the nations,<br /> And rebuke many people;<br /> They shall beat their swords into plowshares,<br /> And their spears into pruning hooks;<br /> Nation shall not lift up sword against nation,<br /> Neither shall they learn war anymore.<br />5 O house of Jacob, come and let us walk<br /> In the light of the LORD.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-60284773090613435552007-12-03T10:28:00.000-05:002007-12-03T10:30:34.067-05:00Advent DreamingAdvent is a time for dreaming. A time for recovering ancient, long forgotten dreams. A time to expect, anticipate, we rejoice in the day when the wrongs will be righted, the righteous will be vindicated, the weak will be made strong, the justice of God will prevail and be revealed to all people. As we dream of a world made right by love, we might just begin to walk and live in the reality of that love in the ways we speak, act and live toward our fellow humans.<br /><br />I wrote a little story about advent dreaming, but I thought it was too long to post here. If you want to read it, it's at the following link:<br /><br /><a href="http://www.scribd.com/doc/668203/Going-to-the-House-of-the-Lord-Psalm-122">http://www.scribd.com/doc/668203/Going-to-the-House-of-the-Lord-Psalm-122</a>Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-21935034269471753052007-12-02T22:02:00.000-05:002007-12-02T22:04:09.549-05:00Starting the Advent JourneyI invite you to join me this year, as I seek to listen, watch and wait during this upcoming season of Advent. Each year, I set aside time to write reflections during Advent and Lent as way of helping me to remember. <br /><br />In a world of deadlines and schedules and conflict and struggle, we tend to forget anything older than the latest tidbit of information calling to us from the television, the radio, the street signs and the endless chatter. In a swirl of sights and sounds, truth becomes what I can understand, I can articulate, I can control, I can verify.<br /><br />In pause of Advent, I am reminded that I do not verify the truth, it verifies me. I do not defend the truth, it defends me. I cannot grasp the truth--for long before I even knew the truth, I was grasped and held in the hands of the One who is and always has been truth. <br /><br />Advent compels me to look backward and forward at the same time. I look back to a story, the story that sounded long before I walked this planet. And it will continue sounding long after the traces of my footprints have long vanished from this land. This ancient story is a story about the end of this age. The culmination, the grand climax, the glory, the wonder, the hope of the coming of the One through whom all things have been made and all things will reach their fulfillment.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-36715928301454874362007-10-16T09:18:00.001-05:002007-10-16T09:22:23.309-05:00Growing Weary in Well DoingAfter months of silence, a short meditation.<br /><br />The preacher warned us that one day we might be challenged to deny our faith<br />at the end of a gun. My overactive imagination convinced me that the threat<br />of persecution and imprisonment for Christians was only days or months away.<br />Could I stand the pressure? Would I deny the Lord when faced with the threat<br />of torture or death?<br /><br />Over time, I’ve come to think that there is far greater threat for free and<br />persecuted Christians alike, then the threat of denial under duress. From<br />the fiery evangelist to the passionate prayer warrior to the faithful<br />disciple, believers of all temperaments and callings face the faith dulling,<br />life sapping threat of growing weary in well doing.<br /><br />For the weary pilgrim, life becomes a repetition of disappointments and<br />frustrated longings. There’s nothing new under the sun. Every day is just<br />another day of the same. G.K. Chesterton once warned, “The world is<br />certainly not going to perish for lack of wonders, rather for lack of<br />wonder.”<br /><br />When we grow weary in well doing, we lose confidence that the Spirit will<br />provide. We no longer trust and look for another proof of God’s favor in our<br />lives.<br /><br />Weariness convinces the sojourner that there must be more. Another sign is<br />required. Another promise fulfilled. Unable to see the glory, the weary<br />person demands that God perform again and again and again. Like the<br />wandering Hebrews crossing the wilderness, each sign is soon forgotten and<br />another sign must come soon.<br /><br />The miracle of breathing is not enough. The grace of food to eat is not<br />enough. The glory of loved one falls short. God must do spectacular things.<br />Like the Galatians, the weary person is in danger of falling from grace.<br /><br />Unable to rest of the promise of the Spirit, the weary person begins to<br />trust in the works of the flesh. The cross is no longer enough. A new<br />technique is required, another touch is demanded, something beyond the cross<br />becomes the answer.<br /><br />Once our focus moves beyond the cross, we begin to notice distinctions in<br />the body. Why is that person more blessed by God? Or I am closer to God than<br />those poor folks who only attend church once a week. Much like the<br />Corinthians, our gospel is no longer a gospel of God’s redeeming grace, but<br />a gospel of our gifts, our abilities, our vision and our plans.<br /><br />Weariness will always move our focus from the goodness of God to our selves,<br />our needs, our abilities. This shift in focus steals our ability to see and<br />hear. Without eyes to see and ears to hear, our prayers sound more like the<br />Pharisees demanding a sign and less like the Savior offering thanksgiving<br />for the Father’s faithfulness.<br /><br />One way to fight this tug of weariness on our soul is simply through<br />remembering. We remember the stories of the faith. The Father is faithful.<br />No boundaries can block his goodness. The border of Babylon did not stop the<br />power of His rule. Our sin and rejection could not alter His redeeming<br />power. The silence of death could not quiet His life-giving Word.<br /><br />We don’t simply remember through thoughts but through actions. We remember<br />in the family feast, the communion table, the supper of our Lord. We<br />remember the body broken for us and the blood shed for us. In this meal of<br />memory, we celebrate His unflinching faithfulness. In our weakness, His<br />Spirit reminds us that even in our unfaithful weary wandering, His grace can<br />strengthen us to mount up with wings as eagles.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-26191157878004147042007-07-19T08:23:00.000-05:002007-07-19T08:36:44.140-05:00The Converging World<iframe src="http://show.zoho.com/embed?USER=dulasfloyd&DOC=tapping%20the%20new%20web&IFRAME=yes" name="tapping the new web" frameborder="0" height="335" scrolling="no" width="400"></iframe>Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-68529693496071645722007-06-27T08:17:00.000-05:002007-06-27T08:20:06.476-05:00The Word Made Flesh retreatI'd like to invite you to my next retreat on July 20-21. Each time I prepare for a retreat, I begin to get the sense it is the most important retreat I've done. I think this has to do with timing. At this point in time, a retreat on embodying the word of God in our lives is the most important thing for me. There is a deep stirring in my soul about about the gift and responsibility to be people of the Word.<br /><br />If we look back through the history of our faith, we see how words continue to have power long after the speaker dies. God speaks the world into being. Moses wrote out the commands of God and the world still finds guidance in those words. David recorded his prayers, and we are still learning to pray from David. Isaiah proclaimed a vision of the world transformed into peace and his words still echo throughout the world thousands of years later. Paul wrote letters to his friends and the church continues to be shaped by those words. The Holy Spirit stirs and inspires His people across time to speak a true word, to proclaim His word and in so doing we change the world.<br /><br />How can we be the people who speak rightly? How do we embody God's word? How do we follow the guidance of Solomon and James in our tongue? These are the kind of ideas we'll consider as we reflect upon speech through the eyes of the Celtic Christians.<br /><br />Below is a little more about the retreat I am currently preparing. I invite you to come and spend a weekend with us.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight: bold;"><span style="font-weight: bold;"></span>The Word Made Flesh: Becoming witnesses in word and deed. </span><br /><span style="font-style: italic;">A retreat meditating upon the power of the word in our life and the lives of the Celtic Christians.</span><br />July 20-21<br /><br />In our fourth Celtic Christianity retreat, we will consider the power of true speech to change the world. Jesus comes as the "Word made flesh" and speaks as one having authority. The Scriptures assure us that the "Word of God" will not return void. Yet our words often seem to fall to the ground. We live in a time and culture where images take precedence over true speech and words seem unreliable.<br /><br />The ancient Hebrews and the Welsh both considered their language as a gift from God. They realized the power of speech to change the world. The writer of Proverbs reminds us that the power of life and death are in the tongue.<br /><br />On the weekend of July 20 -21, Brad Getz and I will join with others to meditate upon the gift of speech, the power of words, and the call to tame our tongue. Drawing from the Bible and the fire of the Welsh poets, we'll spend the weekend considering how we ourselves might learn to cultivate a speech that lives beyond our time.<br /><br />As with all Spring of Light retreats, there will be time for teaching, group interaction, personal reflection and eating. We'll meet at the Living Room (for directions email me). Since we're having at our building, there will be no registration fee.<br /><br />If you'd like to come, please let me know (doug (a) springoflight.org) and I'll send you more information.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7748345.post-62888467644118356162007-06-18T09:15:00.000-05:002007-06-18T09:23:49.031-05:00Walking in Many WorldsSometimes I dream about moving through different worlds. In one dream, I climb up a tree and as I climb higher the temperatures change, the day gives way to night and somehow I even climb up through a body of water. In another dream, I fly over a mountain and into a world where pinks and purples are the primary colors and the creatures look like dinosaurs.<br /><br />After a night of traveling through multiple worlds, I awake. And oddly enough, I walk through different worlds.<br /><br />As I enter the wonder of the day, I am inundated by the world of the new: new technologies, new market developments, new products. Hour by hour someone is tracking the latest, newest thing—from cell phones to software, and yesterday’s latest greatest development is already stale news.<br /><br />This world is infatuated by progress, by new ideas, by new solutions, by new trends and new inventions. It makes bold pronouncements of mastering the world of the future and harnessing technologies to create a better world with supercomputers that will be smarter than humans ever dreamed. And this brave new world won’t have all the unsightly problems of current human world.<br /><br />If the truth be told, the human worlds certainly are a bit messy. I see an outer world of human relationships that continually overflow with betrayal, anger, violence and destruction. Each day the newspapers recount the story of Cain and Abel: brother against brother, man against wife, son against father, nation against nation.<br /><br />Even as I coolly observe the litany of human atrocities, I must acknowledge my own participation. If I saw the tally of pain caused by my own words and actions, I’d be shocked and possibly even horrified.<br /><br />This ever extending circle of pain moves into the heart and back out again, infecting all people in its path. In it, I discover another world, an inner world of human heartache, loss and disappointment. From powerful CEOs to powerless babies, no one lives on this earth without pain and loss. Degrees and dollar signs and diamond rings often hide hearts filled with fear, depression, anxiety, and loneliness.<br /><br />After moving through multiple worlds in the day, I return home to an ancient world. A world of things unseen: a world of story, of faith, of hope and of love; a world populated by a risen Lord, a host of angels and a communion of saints. This old world lives by a book where the youngest text is almost two thousand years old.<br /><br />This old world can make some aspects of the new world look a bit suspect. If an idea is only one or two hundred years old, it is still in its infancy. It has yet to survive or impact through generation after generation. How can its value be determined? What might seem shiny and new and important, might not even be remembered in years to come. What might appear as the answer to all our problems might someday come to light as the beginning of all our problems.<br /><br />This old world tells and retells the same stories. Prays and reprays the same prayers. This old world remembers. In this old world, I walk the same ancient paths again and again and again. In this old world, I eat bread, I drink wine, and I remember the body broken for me, the blood shed for me.<br /><br />Remembering is not simply about recalling, it is about becoming what was, what is and what is to come. As I remember, the Spirit of God draws me into the communion of love:<br />He draws me into the story of Jesus who lays down his life for the world; into a communion of Jesus followers’ who also remember and in some way are engrafted together in the same story of sacrifice.<br /><br />As I remember the story, I realize this is not simply an old world, but a new world. For this old world is always drawing me forward to a kingdom come, a wedding feast, a celebration of God’s love and goodness triumphing over evil and pain and oppression.<br /><br />The Savior who dies and lives again is the sign, the first fruit of a new creation. By remembering this story again and again and again, I somehow, some way enter into the story, or it enters into me. It becomes a part of me. This old world extends into my inner world. The story works its way into my body: my eyes, my hands, my feet, my heart.<br /><br />As I step out into the outer world of human striving, an ancient memory is still pulsing in my blood. As I look around, my eyes remember the Savior and I see past the façade of titles and fashions and human bravado. I see a world of people created and loved by the heavenly Father.<br /><br />In my hands, the memory of Jesus lives. His hands bless the children, heal the hurting and open to the pain of the cross. As the memory enters my hands, I feel the call to carry burdens, to embrace the needy, and to raise the grievance and the pains of the world around me to the Father of all creation.<br /><br />My feet remember the Savior who walks to Jerusalem and onto to Golgotha. My feet remember and are constrained to walk into the pain, into the path of those who need love, and into the darkness. My feet cannot run away from a world in despair but must run toward it.<br /><br />And even as I face the aching, dying, bleeding world infatuated by newness and latest, yet continually longing for life. I feel the tug of my heart, remembering the heart broken, pierced and crushed for the hurting. And from the cross, I hear the Savior saying, “Come and die with me.”<br /><br />In the ancient world of the cross, I discover a Savior who redeems the worlds around me. His life, death and resurrection penetrate the inner world of hearts disfigured by the painful impact of sin. His redeeming power moves into the outer world of human conflict and division, offering hope in a cross-shaped peace that breaks down the barrier of love.<br /><br />From ancient past to the end of time, His love extends and encompasses a world that thinks time is running out. But time is not running out but running toward the world’s one true lover. He is redeeming every moment, every second.<br /><br />My sleeping and waking dreams of many worlds run toward this hope of redemption. For as I enter into the world of the cross, I come see all worlds, all things, all creation being brought to fulfillment in Christ alone.Doug Floydhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/04216703218746988880noreply@blogger.com0