Heaven have mercy on us all – Presbyterians and Pagans alike – for we are all somehow dreadfully cracked about the head, and sadly need mending ~ Herman Melville, Moby Dick

The time to stand and sing began on cue, which for us meant that I stood and my daughters chose to psuedo-stand by sitting on the top part of the upfolded theater seats. The independence, playfulness, and arguable defiance of this moment, reminded me of the myraid challenges of being a dad, but it’s not so much the decision about the appropriate posture for my children in worship that I want to remember. It’s what happened next that I don’t want to lose. In the midst of these swirling thoughts, my oldest daughter began to sing. Perched like sparrow in her makeshift nest, from a place within her that at times feels impossible for me to touch, the words rose strong and clear…

Amazing grace, how sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost but now am found
Was blind but now I see

Amen.

At first, I assumed it was two friends having a somewhat spirited disagreement. I tried not to listen at first, but as the volume grew ever louder and more heated, it became clear that one guy was the store manager and the other guy was a customer… a very drunken customer who was being asked to leave the store. When he couldn’t talk any louder, the customer opened up his can of… expletive language, the only noticable effect being that it really pissed off angered the manager.

At this point I was expecting the punches to fly, but instead – at the top of his lungs – the drunken man yelled, “LOVE ME!!!” To which the store manager quickly replied, “LOVE YOURSELF, AND GET OUT OF MY STORE!!!” Then then manager told one of the three cashiers who were giggling behind the counter to call the police.

Staring at my feet, I was reminded of Jesus’ call for us to be peacemakers and to love our neighbors… the angry store manager, the giggling cashiers, and of course, the drunken customer. And I walked away from them all wondering about the terrible inconvenience of this command.

Interesting in more thoughts by M.L. King? Try here.

It’s 7:00 AM as I sit to write this letter. I’ve taken a hot shower, shaved, and brewed a pot of coffee. It’s a normal morning with one exception: without the gift of water none of these things would be possible. To be honest, I don’t usually think about this kind of thing, and the water in my life doesn’t really feel like a gift. Clean water is my expectation, and without it at my ready disposal, I’m pretty sure I’d be a grumpy person. But as I speculate how I’d cope in different circumstances, I realize that normal mornings for folks in other places are very different than mine.

Last summer I took a team to Roatan, Honduras where we built bunk beds and ministered to children in a community called Sandy Bay. It is a poor community where a family of six typically shares a one-room home with a dirt floor, and children are suffering from preventable water-born diseases. With the help of a water expert who has intentionally transplanted from southern California to Sandy Bay, we hope to return a team to Honduras along with a new water purification system.

Details to come.

- Eugene Peterson, Christ Plays in Ten Thousand Places

Recently, however, I’ve noticed that the experiment is beginning to feel… well… not so experimental. I’m not sure whether or not to embrace what’s beginning to feel “normal” or to push, pull, and pray onward and upward towards something more meaningful. Regardless, I feel the need to respond to these feelings in some way and have volunteered to lead a group journey into the Sermon on the Mount. Our first meeting is this Sunday evening. Details (hopefully) to come.

I am.

I’m also interested in a bunch of well-fed pagans. And healthy, clean, clothed, safe pagans… free from injustice and oppression… which is another way of saying that I’m interested in pagans who are free from the bondage of pride, greed, envy, self-righteous anger, lust, gluttony, and sloth (I think that’s all seven). And I’m interested in pagans who are filled with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control… who love their neighbors as themselves. Hey, wait a minute…

- Pagan

As it turns out, my cousin had knowingly bought some stolen lawn equipment for his upstart landscaping buisness from a friend who worked at the local hardware store. Now he wanted to set things straight, realizing that doing so could mean being arrested or putting himself in danger by naming the source. The following is a brief play-by-play of the next thirty minutes.

My dad called the manager of the hardware store, whom he had met before, and told him that my cousin was coming by (and why). My cousin and I drove to his house where we loaded up the stolen equipment. We then drove to his bank where he withdrew $700, pretty much draining his account. Next was the final stop, and at this point my cousin’s fear was dizzying. We walked into the store and the first person we saw was the guy who’d originally stolen the stuff. Fortunately, he was busy, and we then met the store manager who escorted us to the back office. We were ready for the axe to fall.

But the first words out of the manager’s mouth were, “I just want you to know that I’m not planning on pressing charges, but I’d like to find out what happened and how.” My cousin was still having GREAT difficulty talking, so I took the moment to thank the manager for his gracious spirit. After a difficult and lengthy time of gathering himself, my cousin began answering questions, and slowly the story began to unfold. After the telling, the manager assured my cousin that he would remain annonymous, and that once the equipment was paid for, we were done. The total was $637.41, and my cousin took the money in his shaking hands and began separating it into groups of $100. Finally he had the total amount ready and handed it to the manager.

I thought we were done, and I was already thanking God for the amazing kindness of the store manager, but just before we got up, the manager said, “Aren’t you paying monthly installments on a tractor mower?” My cousin nodded, his eyes still fixed on the floor below. The manager then handed $140 back to my cousin, and said “You’ll be needing this in a few weeks. Thanks for being honest with me.”

What began in mortal dread ended as one of the most grace-filled experiences I can remember, and I’ll be shopping at Ace in Keystone Heights for my hardware needs from now on thank you very much…

Perhaps it’s the obvious lessons that come from a week of living a simpler life that need to sink in and stay with me. My life is tangled in knots of over-committment… mostly due to extra work… mostly due to a need to pay the bills… mostly due to a standard of living that we can’t afford on my salary alone… mostly due to desire for a more comfortable and convenient life.

During our time in Roatan, we joined our host family’s congregation for a Wednesday evening time of worship. The passage of scripture for the evening challenges me ditch the baggage that weighs me down…

“Therefore, since we are surrounded by such a great cloud of witnesses, let us throw off everything that hinders and the sin that so easily entangles, and let us run with perseverance the race marked out for us. Let us fix our eyes on Jesus, the author and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy set before him endured the cross, scorning its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.” (Hebrews 12:1-2)