Sometimes I think I should have been born in the 1800’s.  I like the clothes they wore; I like the manners they had; mostly, I like the way they talked.  From time to time I read Jane Austen just to get my fix.  When I was out west, Katie and I watched two seasons of “Downton Abbey” which was great fun and made us want to talk in high British accents.  However, there’s nothing quite like reading the language straight from the page and feeling those words roll off the tongue.  Maybe that’s why I was so moved this morning by the following commentary by Alexander MacLaren, a Scottish preacher from the 1850’s.  Read it slowly once or twice and let the truth of his words sink down deep.

“We often court the coming of the evil influence, and are willing to be fascinated and to turn our backs upon Jesus. Mysterious it is, for why should men cast away diamonds for paste? Mysterious it is, for we do not usually drop the substance to get the shadow. Mysterious it is, for man does not ordinarily empty his pockets of gold in order to fill them with gravel. Mysterious it is, for a thirsty man will not usually turn away from the full, bubbling, living fountain, to see if he can find any drops still remaining, green with scum, stagnant and odorous, at the bottom of some broken cistern. But all these follies are sanity as compared with the folly of which we are guilty, times without number, when, having known the sweetness of Jesus Christ, we turn away to the fascinations of the world.”

Mysterious it is, indeed…

“His sheep follow him because they know his voice.”  John 10:4

This week I’ve been studying shepherds. 

They herd sheep. 

Impressive, huh? 

But now I’ve realized my picture of sheep-herders is all wrong.  I usually think of long-robed, bearded bedouins, walking behind a flock of animals pushing them along and keeping them from straying off to the right or left.  My imagination is probably influenced by the old TV westerns where cattle drives were noisy, dusty, chaotic ordeals involving whips and prods and lots of shouting.  Sheep-herders have a different style.

Instead of walking behind their flocks and driving them from the rear, shepherds go out in front of their animals.  As long as the sheep hear the sound of their leader’s voice, they keep following along.  This means, of course, that the shepherd must keep up a steady stream of encouraging words; he never shouts, as that would scare the sheepish bunch and send them running.  Little lambs grow up with the comforting sound of their shepherd’s voice guiding them and as long as they listen, they can trust him to keep them safe.

When I was out west bonding with my new grandson, I observed something amazing.  One day I was in the living room with Hudson, sitting on the couch, looking at his fingers and toes.  I was talking and cooing to him and he was working hard to focus his eyes on me.  Then my daughter walked into the room and said something.  Immediately, Hudson turned his head toward the sound of his mommy’s voice.  He knew that voice!  He was only a week old, but the sound of her words captured his attention. After all, he had been listening to that beautiful sound from his fifteenth week of development.   

So I’m learning that the more I listen, the more familiar the voice of my Shepherd will become.  The more I study His words, the easier it will be to know when He’s speaking.  The better I know Him, the sweeter the sound of The Voice.

I understand why we have to add a day to the calendar every four years.  According to timeanddate.com, “Leap Years are needed to keep our calendar in alignment with the Earth’s revolutions around the sun. It takes the Earth approximately 365.242199 days to circle once around the sun. If we did not add the 29th nearly every four years, we would lose almost six hours every year. After 100 years our calendars would be off by 24 days.” 

I’m not sure who figured all this out.  But I have a few questions for them.

1.  Why February?  February is my least favorite month.  Why couldn’t we have an extra day in June or September?

2.  Why is it called “Leap Day”?  That seems to imply jumping or skipping over something.  Shouldn’t this day be named “Stall Day” or “Tack-On Day”?

3.  Instead of adding one day every four years, why don’t we take the six hours once a year and demand that everyone read a book or take a nap?  Or we could wait and have an extra 24 days every 100 years.  Wouldn’t that be more fun?  I envision a world-wide reprieve from war and dieting and reality TV for three and a half weeks.

4.  Who calculates a number to the nearest one-millionth and calls it “approximate”?

Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom.       Psalm 90:12

One thing I’ve noticed the last few weeks: PB has become a much better preacher since I have started taking notes in church.  Or maybe taking notes during the sermon has made me a much better listener so I’m more aware of PB’s good messages.  It’s funny what happens when you enter worship actually expecting to hear a word from God.

For so many years, my attention was centered on keeping four children quiet in the pew.  I doled out Cheerios, played hangman, and drew pictures on the bulletin.  Later, my focus was on sending raised eyebrows to my whispering teenagers who were sitting with their friends.  These days, I find myself sitting alone in the pew.  Antsy children and chatty teenagers don’t bother me at all anymore.  Probably because they aren’t my antsy children and my chatty teenagers.

Anyway, this week this is what stuck with me.  After our Lord’s death and resurrection, 1 Peter 3:19 says that Jesus preached.  PB said that the word for “preached” means “announced”.  In other words, Jesus was announcing that the victory over death was won and the door to heaven was now open.  Heaven: Open for Business!

So, how is business?  Am I getting the word out about this grand opening?  And what about the church?  Is the church open for business?  Or open for busy-ness?  Or does it prefer business-as-usual?

And what about my heart?  Is it open for business?  Is God telling me He needs to get into my business about some things?  Do I dare to tell Him it’s none of His business?   How can I go about my business like nothing has happened when telling people about Jesus is serious business?

There’s no business like show business…..ah….nope, that one doesn’t work.  I’ll stop now.

One of my goals for 2012 is to jot down a thought or two during worship each Sunday morning and carry it around with me during the week.  PB is faithful to preach God ‘s word every Sunday; I should be faithful to let it find some fertile ground in which to germinate.

This week the message was on 1 Peter 3:15.  “Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope that you have.”

Which made me ponder: Who’s asking?  When was the last time someone questioned me about the hope I have?  Which made me wonder:  Is my hope all that evident?  Does anyone even  know I have hope?  Or do I just blend in with the dreary, hopeless world?

Instead of people saying, “Why are you so happy?” more often I’m asked, “What’s wrong?  Something bothering you?”

Instead of people asking me, “How are you getting through this so well?” I’m more likely to be told, “I’m sorry you have been struggling so much with this.”

Instead of comments like, “Your faith is so obvious, it inspires me,” I’m more apt to hear, “Read this book, it might inspire you.”

I might be prepared to give an answer, but if no one is asking…..then maybe I should ask myself a few questions.

When George and Ira Gershwin wrote the the song “Embraceable You” in 1928, they probably had no idea they were touching on a deep theological truth.  “Embrace me, my sweet embraceable you…”  Stay with me here;  this is going somewhere.

PB preached the first sermon of 2012 last Sunday and I’ve been thinking about it ever since.  (That’s the sign of a good sermon, you know: parishioners, or at least the pastor’s wife, wanting to discuss Sunday’s sermon on the following Wednesday.)  The message “To Hug and To Hold” was about Mary and Joseph bringing their 8-day-old son to the temple for dedication.  They were met by an old man named Simeon, probably the priest who was going to bless the child.  But Simeon didn’t just place his hand on the baby’s head and pronounce the usual blessing.  Not this time.  The wrinkled hands reached out and Simeon took the babe in his feeble arms.  The old priest knew this was what he had been waiting for his whole life.  He embraced the Son of God.

Imagine.  Hugging.  God.

I’m not opposed to hugging, although I know some people are uncomfortable with it.  There are some huggers who go for the side-by-side-pat-each-other-on-the-back method.  It’s kind of a half-hug.  There are the A-frame huggers, who don’t mind a quick cheek-to-cheek clasp, so long as the rest of the body stays a good distance away.  Then there are the Aunt Irene hugs.  When I met PB’s Aunt Irene, I was warned about her death-defying squeezes.  It was true: she had a vice grip that took the breath right out of me.

Until Jesus came, God just didn’t seem very huggable.  There was a lot of thunder and fire and mystery associated with Jehovah.  He might have been perceived as a little unapproachable.  But Jesus came and changed all that.  God became embraceable.

Thirty-three years later, He stretched out His arms wide and embraced us.

All the things I once thought were so important…. I’ve dumped it all in the trash so that I could embrace Christ and be embraced by him.  Philippians 3:7     The Message

We said “so long for now” to Mary and Martha, (see September 30, 2011 post) but the sisters did have a brother whom we shouldn’t neglect.  His name was Lazarus, and although there is not one recorded word spoken by him in scripture, he had a pretty amazing life.  And death.  And life.  And death. 

I’ve always had a soft spot in my heart for Lazarus.  Here was a man who had to die not once, but twice, thanks to a miraculous resurrection the first time around.  But I wonder, how thrilled was he to return to this old world?  What was it like for him to hear a voice come booming through the heavens, calling his name?  “Lazarus, come forth!”  After tasting heavenly splendor, how did Bethany look to Lazarus?  Once the grave-clothes were all unwrapped, did he have the same old aches and pains as before?  Did the smell of death and decay ever leave his nostrils?  What did Lazarus think about as he went to sleep each night?  How much he missed Home?  And what did he and Jesus talk about that day?  Were they like two people talking about a movie that no one else had seen?  Did they slap each other on the back and laugh til they cried?  Or did they just look at each other and shake their heads in awe?

For a man who experienced something truly out of this world, he sure was quiet.  Maybe he just didn’t have adequate words…..