HAIR TODAY, GONE TOMORROW

Sorry for the bad pun (here/hair today), but one recent night my kitchen floor was covered in grandboy hair. He'd not had a trim in months, and that night when he was visiting, I dared to say, “Would you like to earn $2 and have a haircut tonight?” Money talks to little boys with an addiction to those tiny little colored notched plastic building blocks whose name starts with “L.”  He, his dad, and a brother had just come from an "L-toy" store. 

Within minutes of coming inside my home, his brother was already assembling the newest L-block toy. But Grandboy #3 hadn't bought one. He might have spent his allowance at another tempting place (the candy aisle at a local quick-mart?). I didn't ask. But his hair was getting hippie-style. His dad usually is his “barber” in the family bathroom (where the “results” are easily swept up), but Grandboy #3 had escaped the scissors and buzzer way too long. Money talked (Grandma's money!) and soon he was on the kitchen stool, orange plastic cape on his shoulders, getting a major trim by an electric-clipper-holding dad, who's performed this rite often. (And I asked myself, is this how it works? Does the person who cuts my hair pay me for the privilege of making me look human again? No, I think it's the other way around!)

He does get an allowance for chores around the house. I can't remember, but he might be “tasked” with taking the clean knives/folks/spoons out of the dishwasher and divvying them into the sectioned “utensil drawer.” Maybe he takes a turn scooping the gross little “sausages” (to put it nicely) out of the cat's litter box. Whatever it is, it's age appropriate. And it provides him with a tiny door into the big-world lesson of managing money.

So, back to the haircut and its results all over that end of the kitchen. If this had been a barn, it might have passed for wall-to-wall hay, in and out the animal stalls. But no, it was a little boy's hair, and he was $2 happier for cooperating.

I wonder if this story might represent the times when someone is reluctant to get rid of something they really don't need, but are negligent about abandoning. Instead of hair, maybe it's cutting away a bad attitude toward someone. Or failure to step out in faith to a big life change instead of stagnating with negative choices. They get so used to the overgrown, messy “present-self" that they can't envision that changing.

The apostle James (coincidentally the same name as my “hairy” grandson) considered that dynamic when he wrote, “Confess your faults one to another, and pray one for another, that ye may be healed” (James 5:16 KJV). I think we often focus on the “confess” and “pray” parts of that verse—and we should—but we overlook the “another” (or “one another” as in other translations). Left to ourselves, we get blind or stubborn to our neediness, resisting change. My grandson needed the incentive of $ to make an “appearance” decision, but in spiritual matters, a payoff is not the solution. The key words in this verse are “confess,” “one another,” “pray,” and “healed.” Necessary spiritual change happens best with admission of need, support of community, and earnest desire to adopt changes toward spiritual wholeness.

Disclaimer: there is no barber's striped pole outside my front door. No cutesy signs that say, “Hair today, gone tomorrow.” I'm happy to serve my family's “junior members” in this way. And when they run into the bathroom to see their “new look,” I think of how I need to regularly check my image in God's mirror—wanting to honor Him in the way that people see Him through me.

EQUIPPED

Somebody, somewhere, had this great idea of a pink-handled tool kit for women who will never aspire to be “Tim the Tool-man.” (Maybe “Tina the Tool-woman”?) Yes, the basics of hammer, pliers, screwdrivers, and such for those pesky little problems that crop up in running a household. I can't recall who my “girl-tool-kit” came from, but it's stored in a “handy place”...and from time to time has been “quite handy.”

First, a disclaimer. One's gender does not predispose certain real-world “tool-handiness.” There are women out there who excel with hammer, saw and all the rest. Some of us, though, have the “beginner set”--and I thought about my beginner tools when I thought through some Biblical passages about being “equipped for good works.” Like this one at the end of the letter to the Hebrews, offering a benediction that the “God of peace” bless these believers, “equipping you with everything good for doing his will, and may he work in us what is pleasing to him, through Jesus Christ” (Hebrews 20:21). It's not a quality you can buy at a store, but it's what is stored up in our character through a growing faith.

These passages came to mind as I thought of essential “spiritual tools”:

Scripture's saw: Able to cut through character defects and excesses for the right “fit”: “All Scripture is God-breathed and is useful for teaching, rebuking, correcting and training in righteousness, so that the man of God may be thoroughly equipped for every good work” (2 Timothy 3:16-17).

Tried-and-true instructions: Not a paper of 1-2-3 instructions and diagrams, but the tried (literally “tried” for Paul, before Roman government high-honcho Pilate) and true (Son of God) “Shepherd of God's sheep” who is able to “equip you with everything good for doing his will, and may...work in us what is pleasing to him” (Hebrews 13:21).

Skill-matched tasks: Some of the faith community will be tapped as leaders, others to serve in less public roles—all making up the body of Christ so all can “become mature attaining to the whole measure of the fullness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:11-13). Whether judges or janitors, each has a vital role that lifts the “ordinary” to “God-ordained.”

Perseverance: The apostle Paul knew how tough ministry could be. He sat in many jails, endured harassment, and survived life-threatening stoning. He experienced the world's “pounding” of ridicule, shame, prison, shipwreck—and eventually a death sentence. Yet he affirmed, “I can do everything through him who gives me strength” (Philippians 4:13).

Now, if you'll excuse me, I remember a screw coming loose on a door hinge....

SHORT LIFE, ENDURING MESSAGE

I can't recall when I got my first copy of the classic devotional, “My Utmost for His Highest.” I only know that from early adulthood it was among the books that challenged and help grow my faith-walk. Only recently, learning the story of its author, I am even more grateful that it came to be.

The book's author is listed as Oswald Chambers, a British evangelist and missionary who ended up in Egypt, where he ministered to British soldiers, dying of appendicitis in 1917, only 43 years old. By one report, he refused medical intervention for his agonizing condition, saying the wounded soldiers needed the doctors more than he did.

Though the book carries his name as author, the real credit goes to his wife “Biddy” (her nickname for “Gertrude”), a skilled stenographer. As a single woman, she'd committed herself to excellence in that business skill, hoping it might come to the attention of England's prime minister. But before that might have happened, she met and married Britisher and evangelist Oswald Chambers. She'd follow him in his missionary endeavors, finally ending up in Egypt where World War I battles raged between the British and Ottoman Empire. He served the troops as a chaplain, speaking at the soldiers' chapels. Quietly, in the audience, sat Biddy, taking meticulous notes in shorthand.

Seven years after their marriage, Chambers died—reportedly of appendicitis for which he refused treatment, saying the injured soldiers needed medical help more. Biddy would spend the next 35 years raising their daughter (their only child) and transcribing Oswald's shorthand-saved devotional messages into books. She refused personal name recognition for her work, with only his name listed as author.

First published posthumously in the United Kingdom in 1927, and in the United States in 1934, it has reportedly sold more than 13 million copies. All that—ironically--because a little-known woman who knew shorthand carried forth the skill to bring glory to God. In other words, to live out in her unique (yet God-planned) circumstance, the scriptural admonition to “train yourself for the purpose of godliness” (1 Timothy 4:7).

ALL GLORIOUS ABOVE

Sir Robert Grant's hymn--as found in
one published in 1938, a hundred 
years after his death.

 Some insights from a beloved hymn

If the Austrian city name “Salzburg” brings something to mind, it might include the image of actress Julie Andrews (portraying a “nanny”) running over stunning Alpine meadows with happy children wearing play clothes sewn from curtains. Her inimitable soprano voice sings the theme song that begins, “The hills are alive....” Yes, the film “The Sound of Music” made this Alps location memorable and “visit-able.” Located in north-central Austria, it now offers all sorts of tourist options, from a 40-minute river cruise to a private walking tour with a guide through historic places of Salzburg. But hang on, there's another “Austrian” connection in hymn history...

There's no fee charge for a breathtaking tour of a “spiritual Salzburg,” magnificently encased in a hymn woven with worshipful words that boost the “awe-factor” of God, described as “King, all glorious above.” The hymn aids praise to “gratefully sing His power and His love.” To look around at “His bountiful care” of this world”—all that: ...breathes in the air, it shines in the light; It streams from the hills, it descends to the plain, And sweetly distills in the dew and the rain.

The lyrics burst with awe for God's creation, His love for His frail children, and His trustworthiness and mercies. It's not what you'd expect as the creative worship expression of a government official on foreign soil. But that's the story behind “O Worship the King.” It connects with Psalm 104's descriptions of God's greatness and attributes: Maker, Defender, Redeemer, and Friend.

The hymn came from the heart of an India-assigned British government official, Sir Robert Grant (1779-1838). Born in Bengal, India, where his father held a high position in the East India Company, he was raised and educated in England. He followed in his father's leadership footsteps, including election to Parliament, director of the East India Company, and governor of Bombay. He was reportedly greatly loved by the people of India, who would name a medical college in his honor.

Grant's strong faith, nurtured in the evangelical wing of the Anglican Church, was also expressed in a small volume a poetry published a year after his death. But the poem that became this hymn was well-matched to a regal tune composed by J. Michael Haydn (1737-1806), Austrian composer (there's the Austrian connection!) and younger brother of famed musician Joseph Haydn. Although Joseph is better-known, Michael is considered one of the most accomplished composers of church music –even better in that genre than his brother. If you need to know “how prolific,” try starting with Michael's 43 symphonies, 12 concertos, 21 serenades, well over 400 religious pieces, 47 masses and more....plus 253 secular works--it's okay to say “whew!”

Five years after the hymn's 1833 composition, Grant died, just shy of age 60. He was one-of-a-kind—devout, creative, not the stereotype of a foreign government official. He didn't need inspiration from a movie set in stunning landscapes, or a tourist “riverboat tour,” to prompt worship of the God who created such a beautiful world. Nor did he need extensive hymn-writing credits. His career strengths were political leadership and rapport with the people of India. But his enduring, sing-able legacy is this hymn, inspired by the greatness of God's creation and power as our “Maker, Defender, Redeemer and Friend.”

Sing along (lyrics included): Bing Videos

IMPRINTS

“Stamping”--it was a crafting fad probably two decades-plus ago. I bought into it—literally--amassing a collection of “greeting” and “image” rubber stamps to make my own homemade greeting cards. At the time, there was a win-win aspect of “something to do” with my then-young-teen-loved-crafts- daughter. The slow demise of this hobby occurred to me when I was at a thrift store the other day and noticed a huge bin of used “stamps,” super-cheap. I passed them up as I still have mine, now little used.

The thrift store sight also brought to mind a New Testament phrase about our understanding about the person and role of Jesus Christ. The writer of Hebrews stated that God spoke in the past to His people via prophets, but now He is speaking “to us by His Son,” who is the “heir of all things” and Creator of all things (Hebrews 1:2) And here's the important word: “Jesus is the brightness of [God's] glory and the express image of His person” (Hebrews 1:3 NKJV). The term “express image” is a translation of the Greek term charakter, which described a tool-made impression or engraving, such as found on an official seal or coin. Back then, they didn't have rubber stamps in craft stores, but the process with metal or wax was the same: press hard, leave image.

I find this mind-boggling. How could an eternal, infinite yet intimate God show us His “charakter”--except through His Son, planted temporarily on earth to model and teach about God's plan for holiness and peace? And not just to “model and teach,” but to leave the Holy Spirit to energize right-living?

And maybe a clue is in how we rubber-stamp these days (or in earlier times, pressing an image into melted wax). You don't get an “image” on your paper by juggling the rubber stamps. You must choose what's appropriate, press it into ink, then press into your paper or document. Could the same thing represent the process to be “imprinted” as a follower of Christ? There is a choice, that decision “inked” by blood shed on an ancient cross, which identifies us as Christian.

One more thought. To make a good “image” from my stamps, I needed to press the inked stamp into the paper hard and accurately. Similarly, a true Christ-following-decision isn't a “light touch” on one's life choices. If it's blurred, pale, or incomplete, the message is also compromised. Or to add to what I said above: press hard into Him. Leave His image on all you do or say.

WHEN IT NEVER LETS GO...

It's that time of year when the advertising world explodes with roses, diamond-ring-ads, romantic dinners, mushy cards and more....for Valentine's Day. No doubt, somewhere in all that, you'll hear recordings of Whitney Houston's 1992 hit, “I Will Always Love You.”

That's good and fine for the economy, but painful for those who are alone and live with rejection or are grieving life-loss. Yet those who are “alone”....aren't alone before God. In my reading about hymn history, I am always moved by the biography of Scotsman George Matheson (1842-1906). A minister and author, at one time, he was engaged to a young woman. But his increasing blindness (which began when he was 17) caused her to break the engagement.

He never married, though managed to preach and write with the help of his sister, becoming both a beloved and eloquent preacher. The year he turned forty, his sister married. That occasion brought back memories of his own heartbreak. Out of that despair, he reached out in faith for God's unchanging love, penning four stanzas of his greatest hymn: “O Love That Will Not Let Me Go.” The first verse goes like this:

O love that will not let me go, I rest my weary soul in Thee.

I give Thee back the life I owe, that in Thine ocean depths its flow

May richer, fuller be.

Matheson's pulpit skills strengthened in that little parish. But like many pastors experience, sometimes the crowds thinned. One winter evening service was especially poorly attended—except for a visitor Matheson knew nothing about. That visitor had come from the large St. Bernard's Church in Edinburgh, which was seeking a new pastor.

The visitor liked what he heard, and Matheson was called to the pulpit of that 2,000-member church. There, his popularity and influence grew. He reportedly said of that surprise visitor: “Make every occasion a great occasion. You can never tell when somebody may be taking your measure for a larger place.”

Sadly, as common for many old historic churches, its fellowship and even purpose changed in the next century. One recent hymn researcher who visited Matheson's old parish found the church locked up and a notice on the front door that it was now used for concerts and dances.

It's too bad there wasn't a compelling historical sign, recounting the building's extraordinary history as a place where eternal Biblical truths and hope were powerfully taught. As I read again the lyrics of Matheson's hymn, I was drawn to verse three:

O Joy that seeketh me through pain, I cannot close my heart to thee.

I trace the rainbow through the rain, And feel the promise is not vain,

That morn shall tearless be.

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Many groups have recorded this tender, hopeful hymn. Here is a rendition by Bill Gaither singers: Bing Videos

 

BEING BOLD...

A friend gave me this little dish—I presume a “resting place” for a tea bag—that (alas!) got me thinking about ways I should be “bold” and ways I shouldn't!

Thankfully, scriptures helped me identify the “okay” boldness. They include:

*Everyday spiritual confidence: “The wicked flee when no one pursues, but the righteous are as bold as a lion” (Proverbs 28:1).

*Boldness amid spiritual negatives: “Now, Lord, look on their threats and grant to Your servants that with all boldness they may speak your word” (Acts 4:29)

*A wise and courageous “mouth-set”: The apostle Paul's request: “That I may open my mouth boldly to make known the mystery of the gospel” (Ephesians 6:19-20).

*Confidence through faith in Christ: “Therefore, since we have such a hope, we are very bold” (2 Corinthians 3:12).

Disclaimer: “boldness” is not “brashness.” “Boldness” is pure in motives, earnest in application, gracious in circumstance. Brashness tends to beat people up or tear them down. Boldness is trusting God to point to the right words and actions to bring about right-living in the midst of our fallen world.

Some heroes of the faith who showed boldness:

David, in facing Goliath and trusting God in what seemed overwhelming odds.

Esther, who put her comfortable life at risk to ask her pagan husband-king to spare the Jews from annihilation (including herself!).

The Lord's disciples, including (later) Paul, who faced mobs and imprisonment for telling about Jesus.

If those who analyze personalities proposed a continuum that had shy and mousy people on the left, and bold “shaker-movers” on the right, I'd be among the meek crowd huddling on the left of the chart. I took Speech 101 in college (required, even for shrinking-violet freshmen) but crossed “public speaker” off of my life goals. How was I to know that a few decades later I'd move on that chart a bit to the other side. Not way across to “brave, brash and quotable,” but able to address moderately large crowds without fainting under the podium.

Probably my heroine for “be bold” was an aged German woman who specialized in the quiet, precise work of watch repair. Then war yanked her out of the watch shop, and she survived arrest and notorious imprisonment during the Holocaust. Once freed, she could have retired to a quiet, safe life. Instead, until very old age, she traveled the world, declaring her faith and trust in God in the most horrific of experiences. Among her quotes (which I never forgot in a once-a-lifetime experience of hearing her speak): “There is no pit so deep that God's love is not deeper still.” Her name (if you hadn't already figured it out): Corrie ten Boom.

Godly boldness is not nurtured in cotton-soft circumstances. It rises from the fires of trial, purged by the love of Christ, and spread with the compulsion of God-stoked conviction.