Not Just Wearing Green But His Shield

The real story about St. Patrick bears repeating.  I remind myself every year there is a deep reason for this holiday.  We mark the remembrance on March 17.  But it never hurts to get ready for it, not just finding something green to wear.

Marvel Comics are not the only ones with super heroes.  St. Patrick lived an adventure of intrigue, narrow escapes, and who conquered hordes of adversaries, armed with only a shamrock and the sword of the Spirit which is the Word of God.
 

This man of faith lived passionately for God in the face of palpable adversity.  His incredible story is not just great and exciting; it is true. 

St. Patrick (389-461 AD) was kidnapped as a boy and taken to Ireland as a slave.  Years later, he miraculously escaped, but compelled by God, he returned as a missionary to tell the Irish people about Jesus and literally change the course of the world. 

 

The famed shamrock we associate with his holiday has nothing to do with luck, but everything about Christian doctrine.  Patrick used the shamrock as a visual aid to teach about the Trinity in a way that people could understand, the three in one, the one in three. 

As the Bible reminds us, if we do not pass on to the next generations the true life stories of the faithful, they will soon be tragically forgotten.  These individuals are not merely historical characters, but people of faith who spelled out the reality of God across the centuries.  This is what a relationship with Christ does to a person. This is what redeemed looks like, living what would be impossible if it were not for God.  Christ with me, Christ within me.

 

Patrick spoke with great gentleness about the grace of Christ to everyone around him for more than thirty years. In the year 433 AD, he composed a prayer which came to be known as Patrick's Breastplate, a cry for protection in a time of certain hostility and opposition.  Patrick was not naturally courageous. The Lord was his strength.

Years ago, I had never before heard the powerful words of Patrick's prayer before we read it responsively at church one Sunday.  The phrases appeared on a screen, recited by five hundred voices strong in unison, and the lyrics washed like a deep current over us, the words no longer belonging to a distant past, but invigorating and fresh. 

Let the words of St. Patrick's ancient text surround and challenge all of us on this holy-day.  Not just wearing green today, but binding ourselves to what has been known as the Breastplate of Patrick.

I bind unto myself today
The strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One,
      and One in Three.

I bind this day to me for ever,
By power of faith,
      Christ's incarnation;
His baptism in the Jordan River;
His death on the cross
       for my salvation.
His bursting from the spiced tomb;
His riding up the heav'nly way;
His coming at the day of doom;
I bind unto myself today.

I bind unto myself today
The power of God
            to hold and lead,
His eye to watch,
            His might to stay,
His ear to hearken to my need;
The wisdom of my God to teach,
His hand to guide,
             His shield to ward,
The word of God to give me speech,
His heav'nly host to be my guard.

Against all Satan's spells and wiles,
Against false words of heresy,
Against the knowledge that defiles,
Against the heart's idolatry,
Against the wizard's evil craft,
Against the death-wound and the burning,
The choking wave, the poison'd shaft,
Protect me, Christ, till thy returning.

Christ be with me, Christ within me,
Christ behind me, Christ before me,
Christ beside me, Christ to win me,
Christ to comfort and restore me,
Christ beneath me, Christ above me,
Christ in quiet, Christ in danger,
Christ in hearts of all that love me,
Christ in mouth of friend and stranger.

I bind unto myself the name,
The strong name of the Trinity,
By invocation of the same,
The Three in One, and One in Three,
Of whom all nature hath creation,
Eternal Father, Spirit, Word.
Praise to the Lord of my salvation:
Salvation is of Christ the Lord.


For a more detailed account of St. Patrick and his impact on the world, I suggest reading the book How the Irish Saved Civilization by Thomas Cahill, or check out "Wearing of the Green," posted on Nightly Tea on St. Patrick's Day 2013.

A Is For Antidote

In cases of emergency, whether a venomous snake bite or exposure to a hazardous substance, an antidote is given to counteract, neutralize, and relieve the effects of the poison, toxins or harmful elements.  

In cases of anxiety, we already have an antidote for that.  No prescription needed. But in light of the devastating effects of anxiety, being thankful sounds as effective as putting a cute Snoopy band-aid on a broken leg.  But gratefulness to God has great power in its effects.  Being thankful does not just push back the stress, worry, and despair.  It initiates healing, because it is not just applied to the surface like sunscreen.  It comes from the heart.

Anxiety shouts that there is no time for thankfulness, it is just word-play, fantasy and a waste of time, you don't really believe it, and it doesn't make a real difference anyway. But worry does?

Being thankful does not just invoke a warm fuzzy feeling, nor look through the ever-cheerful Spamalot bright side of life. But gratitude is our first defense against anguish, misery and gloom.  Yet, are we really thankful, or do we just want the easiest, fastest, and most convenient way of relief?  We often behave like preschoolers prodded by our moms, "Just play nice and say thank you to the nice lady and she'll give you a cookie." Saying thanks to God is not just reciting a memorized litany so we can ask for something else.  "Ok, thanks, God, but I really want this other thing."

For what am I thankful?  To whom am I thankful?  Are we praying to our own desires?  Or to God? Am I just thankful? Or thankful to God Himself?

To increase my vocabulary in this foreign language of gratitude, I began with the alphabet, thinking of one word or phrase starting with each letter in order.  It was not unlike the alphabet game our girls once played when we were traveling, spotting words on billboards with each consecutive letter.

I began this morning at the gym, instead of just thinking about all I needed to do or worry about today.

Not just conjuring up "Thankful for....."  but Thank You for.....  

I struggled with some letters, but then a second time through, words of thankfulness to God were lining up for their turn.  One word triggered the next.

Thank You for Your abiding.

Thank You for Your blessings.

Thank You for creation in all its splendor.

Thank You for divine appointments. 

Thank You for Your excellence in all things.

Thank You for Your faithfulness.

Thank You for Your goodness.

Thank You for the hard stuff You use to strengthen us.

Thank You for intricate details only You can bring about.

Thank You for Jesus.

Thank You for Your Kingdom come.

Thank You for the invention of laughter.

Thank You for making every moment holy.

Thank You for nature that proclaims Your glory.

Thank You for the ordinary.

Thank You for Your provision in unlikely places.

Thank You for Your quietness in the midst of chaos.

Thank You for Your redeeming, restoring, and renewing.

Thank You for our salvation.

Thank You for trees and the testimonies of the faithful.

Thank You for the blessings of the unexpected. 

Thank You for violet skies at dawn.

Thank You for walking with us through.

Thank You for Your extraordinary love.

Thank You for YOU.

Thank You for the zany stuff that makes us smile.

As I completed the alphabet, so many other things, specific incidents, names of people, and blessings were already standing in a crowd, waiting their turn.  Some things I knew I was thankful for, some I hadn't yet acknowledged, some things I had just never said, "thank You, God."

I've only scratched the surface.  Throughout the rest of the day, another letter, another word, another thankfulness emerged.  I saw things differently.  Not "how can I be thankful for that?" But being thankful to God for obvious joys, and even for what I do not yet understand.  Trust Me in this.

God is not just enlarging my vocabulary of thankfulness, but softening my heart, changing my mind, and sharpening my vision to everything around me and being more attentive to things eternal.  I am strengthened by this exercise.  God empowers me to go forth differently into my day, engraved with 26 letters of thanksgiving.  What does that change?  Everything. 

Do not be anxious about anything,

but in every situation, by prayer and petition,

                   with thanksgiving

present your requests to God.

And the peace of God,

which surpasses all understanding,

will guard your hearts and your minds

            in Christ Jesus.

                              Philippians 4. 6 

 

 

 

 

 

Layer Upon Layer And A New Way Around It

 

When my husband and I were first married, we moved into an 88-year-old house that radiated with charm, dutifully disguising a mile-long list of unending projects.  We never even made it past the crisis items --such as the 1933 toilet that stopped functioning the week we brought our first baby home from the hospital. And then, a hole in the roof caused a cascade of water in the front room every time it rained. Oh, and an enormous tree that fell in a thunder storm. You get the picture.

As our excitement of renovating this old house began to wane, we also realized that the kitchen windows were painted shut.  When my husband removed the frames to strip the paint, he discovered ten layers of paint in a variety of colors, one layer upon another that did not peel off easily, nor scrape off with sheer determination, elbow grease, and a heat gun. 

We made slow progress into this miry bog of frustration. Layers of paint adhered fiercely to the layers beneath them.  The sight of the frame-less windows cheerfully greeted us every morning, “Still here!” as if mocking and reminding us “You're doing nothing at all.”  No difference was apparent except for the obvious mess.

In the past couple weeks "giving up" fear and anxiety for Lent, I found they had taken up residency in my heart, built up in layers over time, not so easily evicted.  Worry, stress, despair and panic come in a variety of colors, textures and finishes, some slathering on more than one coat of paint, each falsely promising to cover up a mess but only getting thicker.

I have found not just solace in the Psalms, but God's strength in the words of David.  When he was writing down these words, did David realize that thousands of years and in a world he could not possibly comprehend, God would use his writings to comfort and cheer us on? 

The "foes and enemies" mentioned in the Psalms are whatever we fear, both real and imagined. 

David was not just talking himself out of being afraid.  He was running for his life in very real ways. But through many a danger, toil and snare, David learned the secret of meeting his fears head on. He did not just lay down and let fear steamroll over him.   

The word praise appears 211 times in the book of Psalms.  We need not just cower before these foes, fears, or beastly situations.  God does not show up. God shows us the way through.  I am learning, ever so slowly, to not pray out of fear but from a platform of trusting God.  And that starts with praise and thanksgiving. 

Praise is not limited to situations when life goes nicely.  It is not plastering a smiley face on our hard stuff, or mustering up "happy thoughts," or putting on a one-size-fits-all disguise to cover up our despair.  Praise is not acquiring a new attitude, but a strength from God Himself to find a new way to approach it and a new way to pray about it.  

There is a lot more at stake than waking in the night just to tremble.  Push back the darkness. We have options. Worrying or praying?  Listening to fear or reciting scripture?  God gives us His Word on that.

I rise before dawn and cry for help. I hope in Your words. My eyes are awake before the watches of the night, that I may meditate on Your promise.  Psalm 119. 148

When I pray that way, praising God and thanking Him, gratitude allows me to both think and pray differently about what is in front of me.  Praying is not an attempt to manipulate God, or point out that He has forgotten something, or try to force a particular favored answer. That is not praying to God.  There is always so much more that God can do than we can imagine. Because God is God, and we are not.

Practicing His Presence allows us to realize the Almighty is already here, already at work, and waiting for us to realize He is sitting right here next to us.

In praising and thanking God for this situation, for that person, for His redeeming, God releases us not only into His embrace but opens our eyes and hearts to a thousand galaxies bursting into view.  We've been missing a lot.

My mouth will praise You with joyful lips, when I remember You upon my bed, and meditate on You in the watches of the night, for You have been my help; and in the shadow of Your wings I will sing for joy.  My soul clings to You, Your right hand upholds me.   Psalm 63. 5-8

God dissolves our fears, layer upon layer, as we come to trust Him more.  What He reveals is Himself.

Help us, Lord, to live differently these days of Lent, that we may live differently far beyond these 40 days. Turn our fears, worries and anxiety into something glorifying to You instead. 

How's Lent Been Going For You?

It's been over a week since Ash Wednesday, the beginning of Lent and the start of my fasting from fear and anxiety.  While it sounds like a great and unnecessary thing to unload -- I mean, who wants those distractions multiplying in our heads and hearts? --there has been some heavy lifting going on.  

A whole lot harder than giving up chocolate.

Fear and anxiety seemed to multiply the faster I tried to banish them this past week.  But every morning without fail in my Bible reading, God gave me Costco-size servings of scripture until my cart (and heart) overfloweth with Do not be afraid.  Two days after committing to this fast, God placed this verse point blank in front of me, 

And they woke Him

and said to Him,

"Teacher, do you not care

  that we are perishing?"

And He awoke and

rebuked the wind

and said to the sea,

"Peace!  Be still!"

And the wind ceased,

and there was great calm.

He said to them,

"Why are you so afraid?

Have you still no faith?"     Mark 4. 38-40

The disciples asked Jesus the most ridiculous question: "Don't you even care?"  And Jesus did not reply with "Give Me a list of what you are afraid of," but responded with a simple question,  "Why are you so afraid?"  He's right here in the boat with us.

 

Those words Why are you so afraid? stopped me in my tracks.  

 

I felt like Jesus was asking me, "Did you think I would not take care of you? Trust Me in this."

When God says, Do not be afraid, He doesn't mean it's going to be easy, won't hurt, be awkward, nor scary.  But it does mean:  I am with you in this.  

 

And through these many days and experiences, I am beginning to realize do not fear is not the point after all.  The whole idea of giving something up for Lent is not an achievement to earn a chocolate bunny at the finish line, nor to be successful in accomplishing one's goal, nor even to become a "better" person, but to be drawing closer to Jesus.  The whole point is grasping the reality of I am with you. 

 

 And to know Him more.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

40 Days of WHAT?

When our third daughter was in kindergarten, her friends often would get off the bus with her at noon and have lunch at our house.  One spring day when our five-year-old neighbor Grant joined her for his favorite peanut butter sandwich, the two of them asked me to read them a story.  The Beginner’s Bible was sitting on the couch, so I began to read them the Easter story. 

At one point, Grant jumped up and exclaimed, “I had NO idea Jesus had anything to do with Easter!”

Lent precedes Easter as advent precedes the Nativity, a time of getting ready for what is coming, not just to decorate with bunnies and chocolate eggs, but preparing our hearts.  Lent is the fast before the feast. And empowers us to show up differently to the Easter celebration.  Not going through religious motions, but moving spiritually toward a deeper understanding of who Jesus is and what He has done. 

The question perhaps is not what are you giving up for Lent?  But what is God forming in me through this?

Lent is commonly known as a season of abstaining, when indeed it is the opposite. It enriches.

“Christians have always looked to suffering not only as a place of pain, but as a place of meeting God.  Suffering does not merely happen to us.  It works in us,” states Tish Harrison Warren in her book Prayer In The Night.

What if for Lent we fast or give up, not something we like or dislike, but something that has a strong hold on us?  What if for 40 days we gave up anxiety and fear?  What if we obeyed God’s most repeated commandment, Fear not. I am with you. Be anxious for nothing. What if I fast from those things?

Oh, I can come up with a long list of excuses not to.  But I need to realize that anxiety and fear are not my friends.  They are not welcome here.  And they keep me from trusting God.

Ann Voskamp writes in her book The Broken Way,  “I don’t know how to smooth out angst or stress or worry, but I know you either leave your worries with God … or your worries will make you leave God.”

But if I decide to refrain/give up/relinquish anxiety and fear for Lent, what do I replace it with?  That dynamic duo is firmly lodged in my practices and won’t easily let go.

I know, because Ash Wednesday night – the beginning of Lent --, I didn’t sleep well at all.  I woke up in the middle of the night and whoa! Name the fear or anxiety as they opened the door for a wild party and invited the whole gang. It was a raucous family reunion.

But if anxiety and fear are surgically removed with great intention on our part, the vacuum it creates, the gaping space as it leaves, just invites in more of their cousins.  If we do not choose to trust God in our circumstances, other little-g gods gladly rush in to take God’s rightful place.

Lent is the perfect opportunity to change our defaults.  God enters in. And helps us to not just think with another perspective, but be changed by it.

Is it anxiety – or just urgency to pray? If I didn’t worry, would I pray as much? Or would I pray differently?

What have we attached ourselves to instead of trusting God?  He whispers to us another way through our difficulties and concerns, “Try this instead.”

And as the fog gradually lifts, we can discern perhaps the first vestiges of healing and the 2 x 4’s of restoration beginning to be revealed.

If we ignore the season of Lent, does Easter just become another weekend or an excuse to get together for a meal with friends and family and eat chocolate?  Worship is often just a side dish, if time for it at all.

In the church liturgical calendar, Lent lies outside “ordinary time.”  We come before Him at Lent not that God would remember us, see us, listen to us, or that we would somehow pay for or make up for our sin, but that we would remember Him, see Him in the ordinary and extraordinary, respond to Him, and believe in Him beyond a reasonable doubt.  In our pain, we cry out, “O God, do something supernatural.” And God replies, “I am!”

In Lent, we are not giving up anything, but giving and receiving.   It is a kind of worship that changes us. We are not paying for our sin in preparation for Easter.  Jesus already did that. But we remember His sacrifice for us.  Because without Good Friday, there is no Easter.

We drag our sins to the altar, and realize Jesus is already there.  That is why He came. Lent helps us remember that, like climbing a steep hill and discovering that we can see into eternity as a result. The hardship we did not expect turns into a surprising blessing we would never turn away.

What does Lent make possible?  If we don’t try, we will never know.