Tapestry

With 2011 now about a month behind us, we can look back with a bit of perspective on what some of the last year’s top ten stories (according to non-scientific ranking) revealed to us, taught us, or reminded us:

The digital age is here to stay, regardless of how much whining goes on about the loss of face-to-face relationships or meaningful dinner conversations.  We are moving from a print era to a digital era, with accompanying losses and gains. We stand, like the last of the Mohicans, overlooking a time that soon will be no more, as we move into the unknown. Exciting and terrifying!

“Do you have any wisdom or advice as to how best to approach my season of singleness and the struggle I’m facing?”  Gulp. The email from a college friend detailed how rent she felt between the desire to be content in her singleness and her fervent prayers for a husband.  I punched “reply,” but the cursor just kept blinking.  One week later I finally typed, “I honestly don’t feel like I have any magical answers, but I’d love to share with you some of the things that God taught me along the way.

I’ve wanted to like Romney because the conventional wisdom says he is the only Republican candidate who can beat Obama. And then I’ve pictured legions of Mormon missionaries all over the world pointing to the President of the United States for validation of their appeals to believe the Book of Mormon and join the church of Latter Day Saints.

I’ve wanted to like Newt Gingrich because he has a beautiful mind and gravitas and carefully thought out policies and commentary on world events. And besides, I have a really good snapshot of the two of us in the Columbia Marriott lobby.

The pastor and worship team at my church were used of God in crafting a service that reflected on the power of prayer to the God who never slumbers. Our text was Acts 21:1-14. In those verses, Paul is movin’ along on his missionary journey, Jerusalem-bound and the Spirit is moving in the people he meets, sending a recurring message: “nothing good awaits you in Jerusalem.”

This news is understandably distressing to the people who love Paul. Paul responds by saying, “What are you doing, weeping and breaking my heart? For I am ready not only to be tied up, but even to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.”

My pastor’s first proposition was to “resign” yourself to the will of God. Not “submit” or “surrender,” or some more spiritual word that doesn’t imply wearily and reluctantly giving up. 

Communication proves to be one of life’s greatest ongoing challenges, especially to those who desire to teach and lead others. When I try to share my perspective and thoughts with someone else all too frequently it is not clear. My assumptions affect my words and the assumptions of those to whom I am speaking or writing affect how they interpret my words.

A few days before 2012 began a fairly random thought invaded my mind. What would my life be like without the indwelling Holy Spirit? As I followed the progression of this thought, here is what happened. I began to wonder how entering the New Year would be impacted by this reality – no Holy Spirit.

I would be operating totally on my own resources.

“The Prince of America has had his fill of milk and honey. Imagines the universe as his star spangled playground. He was given authority over shopping malls and the church of commerce. And we of the laity, we sing “Glory be,” we sing, “Alleluia…oh…we’re gonna last forever.”—Zach Arrington, “Prince of America”

The five large canvases circle an intimate room in Columbia’s Museum of Art. Over Christmas my son Zach, Jack and I stood in the middle and turned slowly around. The unfolding drama of the rise, decline and fall of a great civilization plays out against the same scenic backdrop. Thomas Cole’s Course of Empire series trumpets a warning. Like the charioteer charged with whispering regularly in Caesar’s ear, “All glory is fleeting,” these canvases illustrate the inescapable trajectory of every empire under the sun. The viewer is compelled to consider…Will it last forever? Or…in which painting are we now?”

Waiting. It’s woven into every advent season. It sparkles in the eyes of every ponytailed girl and footie pajama dressed boy as they peek under the tree and shake their oddly shaped gifts. It sings in the melodies of our favorite carols as we stand with candles lit, voices raised, and hearts hopeful. And sometimes it tugs at our chest, right after we click off the lights, slip under the covers, and let our minds drift.