Giants in the Earth (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

Even though I grew up surrounded by them, I was 21 years old before I actually saw my first giant.

I grew up on the Ohio River, an hour north of where it disappears into the Mississippi. Talk of the giants was common. Most of us had heard the tales: they were buried in the large earthen “Indian mounds” common in our area. By all estimates, these folk averaged eight, nine feet; even taller in some cases. Books, newspaper articles —and rare photos— attested to their existence.

While early explorers reported meeting giants in the Americas as late as the 1500’s, considerable archeological “evidence” suggested large tribes of giants lived in America from about 5600 BC to around 400 AD. Burial sites scattered all across the country have yielded giant skulls, extra large femurs, etc. For some, though, the real treasure troves lay in and near the Ohio River Valley where full skeletons were found. They were proportionally larger humans ... giants, in other words.

It’s possible none of it is true. I never actually saw one of those skeletons. It was all stories, books, and articles. Like the reference to giants in Genesis 6:4, it was all old news. Sure, the Israelites fought them from time to time, and we all know the David and Goliath story. But how many have actually encountered a real giant?

I was sitting in church when I happened to look back at one of the doors. There, bending deep because even his shoulders were to high up to fit under the lintel topping the opening, was my giant. After he squeezed through, he straightened up ... and up ... and up some more.

I know what 6’6” looks like, even 7 foot. I’ve seen a lot of extra-tall people in my life, most of them basketball players. They are almost all of a certain body type; elongated arms and legs, long torso. But this fellow was something else, altogether. He was proportional in every way ... except he was at least 8’ feet tall!

I couldn’t take my eyes off him ... nor could anyone else. He just stood there for a bit, looking around the room. There was no way he was going to fit into one of our seats. Eventually, someone found him a wide bench, and he sat there, against the back wall, most of the service. At some point, though, once we were deep into worship, he slipped out. He was gone when next I looked. I never saw him, again. But seeing someone of that stature left a life-long impression.

I write about giants, this week, because our scriptures are about the stature of God’s “chosen.” The 1st Samuel passage concludes with a comment that the boy Samuel continued “to grow both in stature and in favor with the LORD and with the people.” The Luke passage notes, similarly, that the boy Jesus “...increased in wisdom and in stature, and in favor with God and with people” (Luke‬ ‭2:52‬ ‭NET‬‬).

Those parallels are not accidental.

The two boys got bigger, physically. That’s not surprising. But they also grew in other ways ... ways that drew the explicit approval of both God and people. Still, you might think these verses have no direct application to you. After all, one is about a future prophet and the other is about the Messiah.

There is a connection, though: Samuel and Jesus were God’s chosen ... as are we.

Our physical stature takes care of itself. If we’re not already physical giants, it’s unlikely we ever will be. However, as God’s chosen, we are to seek an increasing spiritual stature. The Colossians passage tells us how.

As God's chosen ones, holy and beloved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience. Bear with one another and, if anyone has a complaint against another, forgive each other; just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.

Above all, clothe yourselves with love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony. And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in the one body. And be thankful.

Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly; teach and admonish one another in all wisdom; and with gratitude in your hearts sing psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs to God. And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.

Master those, and you, too, can be a giant.

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PHOTO (Robert Wadlow, 8’ 9” tall, stands next to his 5’ 11” father): http://www.sideshowworld.com/41-GG/121-Robert/Wadlow.html

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
First Sunday after Christmas Day (December 30, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

1 Samuel 2:18-20, 26
Psalm 148
Colossians 3:12-17
Luke 2:41-52
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Join us Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. The hour starts at 8:00 and just tickets along: prayer, scripture, discussion, laughter. Good food, too.

Happy New Year!
Steve

Dragons, Hipsters, and Mangers ... Oh My! (A Steve Orr Advent reflection)

The dragons were just too much.

That’s my guess, anyway. In a neighborhood (and, lets face it, a nation) festooned with Yule trees, lighted bushes and rooflines, blow-up Santas, wire reindeer, Yodas, and Minions ... it may seem strange that one of Diana Rowland’s neighbors took umbrage at her use of dragons for Christmas decorations. The AP story reported that her anonymous neighbor left a note suggesting the dragons were demonic and that Rowland didn’t “know the true meaning of Christmas.”

OK, yes, inflatable dragons are different. But demonic? I guess that is one of those “eye of the beholder” things. If we’re going to have to restrict our displays to just manger scenes ... well, people can get creative, there, too. One recent manger scene was rendered Hipster style. Mary and Joseph are shown taking a selfie with the baby. The three wisemen are rendered as Amazon delivery people on Segway scooters. There’s a solar collector on the roof ... and a drone.

Don’t get me wrong. I love a well-crafted manger scene. But considering how little we actually know about the night of Jesus’ birth, it might be that we would have to remove several manger scenes for not accurately reflecting what scripture actually says about it. Were there hipsters at Jesus’ birth? Unlikely. Dragons? Also unlikely. Same for Minions. And Christmas trees, light strings, inflatable ... well, anythings.

In fact, little-to-nothing of modern Christmas decoration relates directly to the birth of Jesus.

If we find ourselves spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about how such things don’t capture “the true meaning of Christmas,” it just might be that our focus is in the wrong place. Instead of thinking about how wrong everyone is in their approach to this holiday period, we should invest those brain cells and emotional energy in meditating on what was (and is) really happening.

And to that end, I recommend Mary’s lovely speech in this week’s selection from Luke. It is often called The Magnificat.

“My soul magnifies the Lord, and my spirit rejoices in God my Savior, for he has looked with favor on the lowliness of his servant. Surely, from now on all generations will call me blessed; for the Mighty One has done great things for me, and holy is his name. His mercy is for those who fear him from generation to generation. He has shown strength with his arm; he has scattered the proud in the thoughts of their hearts. He has brought down the powerful from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly; he has filled the hungry with good things, and sent the rich away empty. He has helped his servant Israel, in remembrance of his mercy, according to the promise he made to our ancestors, to Abraham and to his descendants forever.”
(‭‭Luke‬ ‭1:46-55‬ ‭NRSV‬‬ - http://bible.com/2016/luk.1.46-55.nrsv)

Magnify the Lord, keeper of promises.
Rejoice in God’s mercy.
Lift up the lowly.
Fill the hungry.

Mary knew where the focus should be this season.

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PHOTO: Steve Orr
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Fourth Sunday of Advent (December 23, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

Micah 5:2-5a
Psalm 80:1-7
Hebrews 10:5-10
Luke 1:39-45, (46-55)

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Join us Friday morning for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. As usual, we start at 8:00 at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant. The hour that follows is packed with Bible, discussion, food, fellowship, and prayer. It is a blessing.

Merry Christmas!
Steve

Third Class Superhero (a Steve Orr Advent reflection)

Nathan is just not good enough.

In Charles Yu’s short story collection, Third Class Superhero, Nathan is not good enough to actually be a superhero. Oh, he has a power ... of sorts. But he works a thankless job to cover his food and board because his power is too meager to qualify him for full time heroics (which pays a lot better).

I’m not going to tell you much more about Nathan, because you need to pay Amazon $2.99 so Mr. Yu can pay his bills. Believe me, the stories are worth the money; a bargain at that price.

What I am going to do is tell you that I know actual people like Nathan. No, they don’t have special powers, not even third class ones, but they do suffer from the same problem: life has been signaling something to them ... for a while.

They’re just not good enough.

It’s hard to accept that the thing you’ve invested yourself in —that goal you’ve had for your life; that career you’ve been working hard to build; that relationship you’ve been pursuing— is never going to be a reality, that the window of opportunity is not just closing, it’s already closed. And, as hard as that is, there’s worse.

As bad as it is to face our shortcomings, it is even worse to have to hear it from someone else.

I was one of those latter folk. Life had been signaling, but I hadn’t been receiving. Nathan knew he was a third class superhero: he had the test scores to prove it. But I just couldn’t recognize it ... or, in retrospect, maybe I did suspect my inadequacy, but I wasn’t allowing my conscious self to really know it. Maybe it was in the back of my mind and I just couldn’t let it come to the front.

It took being confronted with it to really know the truth of it. As long as I was the way I was, I wasn’t going to be good enough to be the way I wanted to be.

In this week’s scriptures, Zephaniah, Isaiah, and Paul exhort us to sing and shout, to exult and rejoice, to be thankful and prayerful ... because God is in our midst. They are all about Immanuel (“God with us”), the Messiah, Jesus. The shocker is in the Gospel of Luke, where John the Baptist looks out over the crowd and gives the most unusual “alter call” I have ever encountered: "You brood of vipers! Who warned you to flee from the wrath to come?” As unwelcome as it sounds, I believe John was doing them a kindness. He was shocking them into a realization. Like Malachi before him, John saw them for what they were:

Not good enough.

John knew their need, even if they had not yet grasped the situation. They needed to understand their need for Jesus, and why repentance was the beginning of fulfilling that need. God had not been “in their midst” for hundreds of years ... and they were the reason why. Like in Marshall Goldsmith’s book, What Got You Here a Won't Get You There, John’s audience needed to grasp their inadequacy to bridge the gap between themselves and God, to realize they needed an entirely new approach.

To their credit, many came forward and asked: “What then should we do?” The shock treatment worked. They began to see their need. It’s a lesson for us, too, this Advent. As we look forward to the coming of the Lord —to that time of rejoicing, exulting, singing, shouting, thankfulness, and prayer— we must first recognize our need ... that part of preparing for the coming of the Lord is accepting that we need Him.

We, too, must also be willing to ask, “What then should we do?”

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PHOTO: https://www.amazon.com/Third-Class-Superhero-Charles-Yu/dp/0156030810
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Third Sunday of Advent (December 16, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderThird Sunday of Advent (December 16, 2018)bilt.edu//

Zephaniah 3:14-20
Isaiah 12:2-6
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:7-18

Do All Jobs Go To Heaven? (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

My Dad was a man ahead of his time.

When Dad was a new husband in the 1950s, it was expected a person would work 20, 30, even 40 unbroken years for the same employer. That may be hard to imagine, today, when people are likely to have six different careers! So, in a real sense, my Dad was a man ahead of his time.

After returning from World War II, Dad explored the medical field. He knew he wanted to be a healer, but found his personal beliefs conflicted with some dearly held by the medical profession. He did his research and decided he wanted to become a Chiropractor. And that is what he did ...

... for not quite a decade.

Then the changes began. The reasons for closing his practice were many, but principally: (1) unlike today, medical doctors considered Chiropractors to be quacks, and (2) when Dad allowed people to pay on a sliding scale based on economic circumstance, his patients paid very little.

Next up was "brick and tile" work. Dad was good at the work; alignment and measurement being central to success. But the money was low.

Later, Dad worked on a riverboat; alternating one month on the boat and one off. The pay was better and sometimes he was the Pilot. This lasted for a while, and was especially useful when he and a farmer friend of ours arranged to alternate their 30/30's. One month Dad was on the boat and our friend ran the dairy. The next month, Dad managed the dairy and our friend worked on the boat. It was a kind of “job share.”

Eventually, Dad moved on to working with a cousin in a start-up printing business. Dad did this work for several years, and was still doing this when I entered college.

Then, my parents moved to Florida. Dad found a job at Wickes Lumber Company, where he worked several years until an on-the-job injury placed him on permanent disability.

Throughout those 30-plus years, while my Dad moved through multiple, unrelated career fields ... my Mom worked for the telephone company, her only employer all those years.

Jobs are an interesting part of who we are. Whatever we do as work in this life —be it the very important work of developing the next generation, or making things, or building places, or selling things, or a myriad of office type occupations— we tend to get what we do all tangled up with who we are.

I am sure that more than once Dad scratched his head and wondered just where all of that was leading, or if it was leading anywhere at all. And I am just as sure he wondered what all those job changes said about him, personally.

Can it come as a surprise that those who came out to hear John the Baptist in this week’s Luke passage were concerned? What impact would this "repentance" have on their lives? For most, the answer was pretty strait forward: share with those in need. But, what about tax collectors and soldiers? Surely, they didn’t qualify for John's baptism. These were among the most reviled occupations in that place and time.

John's answers to them are most interesting, both by what he said and what he didn’t say. What he said, to those soldiers and those tax collectors was "Don't exploit your position." Since tax collectors were considered cheats and thieves, and Soldiers were —charitably— considered bullies, "Don't extort and don't bully" got right to the heart of repentance.

On the other hand, John did not tell them to stop being tax collectors and soldiers ... Whoa.

The implication, when you think about it, is startling. Here was John’s opportunity to tell them, straight up: you folks are in the wrong professions. Instead, John got to the heart of the matter ... and it wasn’t their career choices.

The only way our jobs can define us is if we allow it. They certainly do not determine our relationship to God. In that light, the two different career paths taken by my parents come down to the same thing: the number of jobs or employers comprising your working years are, in the end, not the point.

How we do our work, how we treat others in conducting our business, how we impact others with our industry; these things are paramount.

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A different version of this reflection appeared in December 2012 under the title, Jobs.

PHOTO (The way we were ... WWII Poster): https://www.etsy.com/listing/502644384/ww-ii-patriotic-posters-dont-be-a-job

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Third Sunday of Advent (December 16, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderThird Sunday of Advent (December 16, 2018)bilt.edu//

Zephaniah 3:14-20
Isaiah 12:2-6
Philippians 4:4-7
Luke 3:7-18
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Join us Friday morning at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. Come at 8:00. Hang out ‘till 9:00-ish. Good food, good folk.

Blessings,
Steve

You Can Write That in Your Little Green Book (“a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection”)

“You can write that in your little green book!”

I can’t tell you how many times one of us spoke those words to our mother. Mama actually had a little green book. It was one of those small, 5-year diaries with five sets of lines on each of 366 pages. Each little section had a spot at which to enter the date, and then about four lines on which to briefly record a memory.

That book was where Mama kept information about family and friends; birthdates, wedding anniversaries, anything of importance. And she didn’t limit herself to a specific five-year period. If she needed to record something, she would just flip over to whatever date it was, write in the year, and then write her note. On the rare occasion a page was already full, she would just draw a line over to the opposite page with an arrow pointing to the new entry.

She wrote in it quite a bit over the years. So, saying “You can write that in your little green book,” was not suggesting anything unusual. However, when we said it, we were not really interested in preserving history. Often, we were angry because she had just denied our request to do something. So, after the requisite wrangling-to-no-avail, we might say something like, “When I’m an adult, I am going to do that. And you can write that in your little green book!”

In those early days, it was not much more than a vocal pout. We were putting her on notice: someday we would be grown up; someday, no one could tell us what to do; someday, we would do whatever we wanted ... so, there.

As we aged and matured a bit, though, we began to see that our mother was not the simpleton we had originally thought, that her denials had been saving us from grief and/or injury. That didn’t stop us, though, from using that little refrain. We still said the words, but their meaning changed. Over time, when we said, “You can write that in your little green book,” it was as a declaration of our intention to accomplish something ... to ace a test, to achieve first chair in orchestra, to get a date with a certain person ... all those things so important to teenagers and young adults.

Now, well over half a century since one of us first threw those words in my mother’s face, I still say them. Oh, I often just say them in my head, but the meaning is still the same. I am declaring my intent, planting my foot, drawing a line in the sand, telling whomever will listen: make note. I will do this thing. It is going to happen. Period.

This week’s scriptures are all about spreading the word. They foretell of John the Baptist and his message, they tell about his life, and they share with us the outcomes. They are chock full of declarations about what is to come. Malachi was confident a messenger would come. Zechariah was confident his son, John, would be that messenger. Luke records that John received and spoke God’s message to all who would listen.

And the Letter to the Philippians has its own declaration about all of us who have come later. We, too, are entrusted to tell what we know of Jesus. Like John the Baptist, God will be developing us. And like Zechariah, Paul declares his confidence that God has a plan for us; that “he who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus.” That is a prophecy about you.

And you can write that in your little green book.

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PHOTO: https://www.etsy.com/listing/648723161/vintage-five-year-diary-retro-1950s

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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Second Sunday of Advent (December 9, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

Malachi 3:1-4
Luke 1:68-79
Philippians 1:3-11
Luke 3:1-6

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We will gather at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant, Friday morning, for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. We start at 8:00 and wrap things up around 9:00. We meet in the function room (the entrance is down the outside, near the back).

Join us.

Blessings,
Steve

A Dark Advent and the Contrary Dairy Cow (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

Cows are smarter than sheep ... but, as a farmer will tell you, not by a whole lot. I wouldn’t want to wager on which would prevail in a competition for most stubborn. Luckily, most cows are contented cows; at least dairy cows seem so. If you feed them and milk them twice each day, all seems well.

There’s always one, though, isn’t there? The dairy operation we were part of had such a cow. Not only was she not content with the fields we had, she was an opinion leader.

Each day, she would lead her little cadre of followers out to the fence line, where they would thrust their heads through to eat what was growing on the other side. But that wasn’t enough for her. As the easy pickings became exhausted, she cast her eye a bit further afield. She was coveting more of those tasty plants ... that were just out of her reach. And if it had ended, there, the tale would already be told.

Let me pause here to explain why any of this matters. In our fields, we had planted the appropriate feed, the grasses that worked in proper unison with the other feed we provided to them, directly, while they were being milked. Together, the two sources provided a balanced diet for healthy dairy cattle. The plants outside our fence line were wild; not the same plants, and not supportive of their health.

First assault: she and her little gang pressed against the wire fence until it came loose from the posts. They then stepped out and nibbled on their ill-gotten gains. They did this three times before we finally caved in and put up barbed wire in place of the standard fencing. That did the trick ... for a while.

Second assault: It didn’t keep her from trying, but those sharp pricks from the barbs sent her crew back to the grasses in our field ... Until, with stubborn determination, she managed, despite many scrapes and cuts, to push the strands of barbed wire loose at her favorite spot. Once she was through, her entourage reassembled for another off-the-range chow down.

We didn’t wait to see if she would do it, again. Our next change was to install an electrified fence. Now, you may be thinking that was a cruel thing to do. But, for any cow that stayed well away from the fence line, it made no difference. We only wanted to curtail the activities of the few intransigents. And it worked. Once those cows brushed up against the electrified fence, there was no repeat. They all returned to eating what was in our fields ... except for our one contrary cow.

Third assault: Well, it wasn’t much of an assault. After a few times, she stopped touching the electric fence. But every day, she fed right next to it. While all the other cows met their dietary needs out in the broader field —where the food was quite good, by the way— our contrary cow fed by the fence line, constantly looking out at the plants growing on the other side. Never satisfied with what was provided for her in our fields.

This week’s Advent passage from the Gospel of Luke tells us to “be alert at all times,” and to “Be on guard so that your hearts are not weighed down with dissipation and drunkenness and the worries of this life.” It is, without a doubt, one of the darkest Advent scriptures ... but it is about watching for, patiently awaiting, desiring, and anticipating the return of Jesus.

The easiest way to do that is to feed on the spiritual meal provided to us; to stay up in the middle of the pasture, so to speak. That way, when we see the Lord coming, we will be ready to “stand up and raise [our] heads.”

Hanging out at the fence line like our contrarian cow, staring longingly at what we are not supposed to have; that’s they wrong way to approach life. It’s bad enough that we could get quite a shock by trying to ram the fence ... worse if we make it through.

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PHOTO: Steve Orr
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READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
First Sunday of Advent (December 2, 2018)
https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu//

Jeremiah 33:14-16
Psalm 25:1-10
1 Thessalonians 3:9-13
Luke 21:25-36
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We’re back! DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast continues to meet Friday mornings at the Waco “Egg and I” restaurant. We’re usually in the function room (down the outside, near the back). From 8:00 to 9:00, we have a great hour of Bible, prayer, discussion, laughter, and some tasty food to boot. Join us.