Saturday, October 30, 2021

One Man’s Ceiling is Another Man’s Floor (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

 

Do you like Paul Simon? 


I have to confess, when he and Garfunkel split up, I couldn’t imagine how either would make good music without the other. I’ve always loved their amazing harmonies. Songs like The Sounds of Silence, The Boxer, Bridge Over Troubled Waters, and Mrs. Robinson are still on my play list. 

Once it was just Paul, well … let’s just say I was skeptical. But, then, I heard Kodachrome, closely followed by Loves Me Like a Rock. He had my attention. And, since it was also on the same album, it was no stretch for me to give a listen to One Man’s Ceiling is Another Man’s Floor.  

That one was interesting. 

Paul Simon is a storyteller. And he does it both with what’s in his lyrics and what’s not in his lyrics. We usually think of musical storytelling as a feature of Country Music, where they say a song is “three chords and the truth.” Well, even though he’s not writing Country ballads, Paul Simon is a musical truth teller, and he uses a lot more than three chords to do it. It’s kind of magical. 

He was already working that magic back in 1973 when he released Ceiling. Have you heard his interesting little song about apartment living? If you haven’t already stopped to listen to it, you should go do that now. The link is below.**

Sure, you could hear that song as a caution to all who choose apartment living. But, what if it’s really a metaphor about transcending limitations? What if his message is that what one person views as a full stop is in fact just the starting point for someone who can perceive it as a launchpad? What if every ceiling we encounter is always a floor on the next level? 

What if it’s not really a limitation, at all?

I think that’s what’s happening in this week’s selection from the book of Ruth. She had it all; a full life. Then, she hit the ceiling. Her father-in-law died. Her husband died. Suddenly, she was a widow in a world where widows had few options, where poverty was the likely scenario. A woman she has come to regard as a mother tells her they have no future together. What she thought was her life just disintegrated before her eyes. 

And then, as if to make it really clear it was over, she was told, “Go home.”

Ruth rejected that ceiling. She didn’t know what the future might bring. But, she knew she wanted to spend it with Naomi, to share her culture and to worship the true God. She was stepping out in faith, stepping up onto that ceiling and making it a floor for whatever was going to come next. 

So, when you hit your ceiling, check how solid it is. The harder the ceiling, the better floor it will make. And remember the lesson of Ruth: faith, love, and commitment will transcend those limitations. 

Start climbing. 
_________________________

**Link to the song, with lyrics:



_________________________

Will you be with us Friday for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast? Join us at 8:00am in person at Our Breakfast Place or online on Zoom.** We have a great time exploring scripture, kicking around what it means, and laughing. See you there? 

Blessings,
Steve 

**Contact me for the Zoom link

NOTE: Zoom allows you to mute the camera if you don’t wish to be seen and to mute the microphone if you don’t wish to speak.

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY & THE COMING WEEK


Ruth 1:1-18

Psalm 146

Deuteronomy 6:1-9

Psalm 119:1-8

Hebrews 9:11-14

Mark 12:28-34

Proper 26 (31) (October 31, 2021)


_________________________




Thursday, October 21, 2021

Radiators in a Cold World (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

Mrs. Maguire’s algebra class wasn’t just cool. Some days it was down right cold!


Our spritely Algebra teacher could not abide attention-drift from any student. To make certain we paid attention, she opened the windows … in the dead of winter.

Winters in our little river city could be harsh. And when the wind off our two rivers came blowing up through the town? Bone-chilling. 

What saved us were the radiators. 

Lined up just below the windows was a row of steam-heat radiators blasting hot air into the room. You could still feel the cold air slicing in, but the radiators kept radiating enough heat to offset the worst of it.

A radiator —or “radiant” as it is called in some places— draws its heat from a central source. Without the right energy coursing through them, they could not radiate the heat we needed to offset the cold blowing into our Algebra class. If not connected to that central source, those radiators would be just so much cold metal … and no use at all in mitigating the winter chill. 

In this week’s selection from Psalm 34, the Psalmist says, "Those who look to Him are radiant....” (‭New International Version‬‬) A person can be a radiant, a conduit for energy outflow. It certainly was true of Moses. He spent so much time in God's presence that he glowed from the exposure. He became a radiant. 

We, too, are called to do as Moses. In the New Revised Standard Version, that same verse reads as a command: “Look to him, and be radiant....”

Those radiants kept us warm that winter in Mrs. Maguire's classroom, but only because they were connected to the source, the generator of all that steam heat. What about us? Are we radiants? Do we spend so much time in the presence of God that others cannot help but experience God's warmth and glow?

Look to Him, and be radiant.


__________________________
PHOTO CREDIT: Steve Orr

_________________________
Fall is such a busy time. Be sure to make time to enjoy come DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast on Friday morning. We gather at 8:00 for an hour of fellowship, scripture reading, discussion, prayer; plus a few laughs along the way. Join us on Zoom** or Our Breakfast Place for a sure fire way to ensure you have a great week.

Blessings,
Steve 

**Contact me for the Zoom link

NOTE: Zoom allows you to mute the camera if you don’t wish to be seen and to mute the microphone if you don’t wish to speak.

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY & THE COMING WEEK
Find them here: 

Print them here:

Job 42:1-6, 10-17
Psalm 34:1-8, (19-22)
Jeremiah 31:7-9
Psalm 126
Hebrews 7:23-28
Mark 10:46-52
_________________________

Friday, October 15, 2021

Robert Redford’s Better Way (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)


 How you say it matters.

There's a great scene in the movie, The Candidate. Robert Redford plays first time senatorial candidate Bill McKay. He has recently given in to his campaign advisors and adopted a slogan: "McKay—the better way." In the scene, he slumps in the back seat of a car, exhausted from a very long day of campaigning that is far from over. He repeatedly mumbles part of the slogan, each time changing the emphasis: "Got to be a better way ... Got to be a better way ... Got to be a better way ... Got to be a better way." In the front seat, two of his handlers give each other the eye, wondering if he has gone over the edge. 

And so, Robert Redford underscored for me, in an unforgettable way, that how we read the words of others matters. Changing which words or syllables to emphasize in a sentence or phrase can completely change their meaning.

In that light, I call on you to read with care the words of God in this week's scripture from Job, especially the opening sentences. Many a translator has rendered Job 38:2-3 to "read" almost conversationally. Consider the New Revised Standard Version: "Who is this that darkens counsel by words without knowledge? Gird up your loins like a man, I will question you, and you shall declare to me." 

I found this same kind of mild rendering in many translations and versions. The word translated as "counsel" actually indicates God's design or purposes. See? That already changes the meaning. Some translations substituted "advice" for "counsel," making it even more bland. With the exception of Job 19:25, these final chapters are the most important in the book, and among the most important in the Bible. They are all about the sovereignty of God. “Hearing" them correctly makes a difference.

Below is my understanding of the meaning of those two key verses, the ones that set the tone for the remainder of God's response to Job.

"Who dares? Who dares cloud my design in darkness? Step forward and brace yourself. Now it is my turn to interrogate you. Perhaps you think you can teach me."

Now, go read the rest of it. Let me know if you agree … or if you "hear" it differently. I welcome your comments and thoughts.

______________________________
PHOTO CREDIT: Steve Orr


_________________________
We’re back! Join us for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast on Zoom** or in person at Our Breakfast Place. We gather at 8:00 for a wonderful hour of scripture, discussion, and more laughter than is seemly.

Blessings,
Steve 

**Contact me for the Zoom link

NOTE: Zoom allows you to mute the camera if you don’t wish to be seen and to mute the microphone if you don’t wish to speak.

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY & THE COMING WEEK
Find them here: 

Print them here:

Job 38:1-7, (34-41)
Psalm 104:1-9, 24, 35c
Isaiah 53:4-12
Psalm 91:9-16
Hebrews 5:1-10
Mark 10:35-45

Saturday, October 9, 2021

Crying Over Spilt Milk (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

All we could do was watch as the old man trudged along the sidewalk opposite our junior high school. 

It was a closed campus. 


Tall, thin, not-recently-shaven; he wore one of those sleeveless undershirts with the scoop neck, a pair of grey, shapeless pants that had been washed too often, leather shoes that had seen better days, no socks. He was carrying a low-sided cardboard box packed with three half-gallons of milk and a loaf of bread. 

Carrying is not the right word. He was laden with it. From his slow, wobbly gate, anyone could see he had more than his ancient limbs could handle. Each step was a struggle. I could see the thin, ropey muscles of his arms starkly etched against the parchment of his skin. 

To say the old man struggled would be to use too light a word. “Struggled,” “wrestled,” “fought”; we’ve managed somehow to leech the weight and power out of these words. All that’s left me, that truly describes these events, is “battle.” That day I witnessed a man battle against his own body with all the ferocity of a soldier charging the enemy. He gave it his all with each wavering step, knees slightly bent against the weight of his burden, determination painted in rivulets of sweat coursing down his face.

I don’t think any of us was shocked when the first milk carton tumbled.

It all seemed to move in some sort of horror-film-slow-motion; the corner of the box buckling just a little, the milk carton starting to tip over the edge, the old man reactively tugging everything up, causing the falling carton to start a slow end-over-end spin as it floated out of the box and toward the sidewalk.

It hit with a slapping sound we all could hear.

And … nothing happened. The carton landed on its bottom, with no apparent damage. Everyone breathed. The moment of horror had passed. The relief that flooded though us was so strong, so palpable. 

Then, as we were just beginning to think of returning to our previous activities, the old man knelt to pick up the errant milk carton … and the second carton began its tumble from the box.

Stephen King fans will recognize this as a “Cujo” moment, that instant when —the good guys having finally won the day and realizing they have somehow survived; a moment of abject and profound relief— evil surges back for another bite! Long before I ever read Stephen King, long before I ever saw one of those just-can’t-kill-the-bad-guy movies, I experienced this horror. 

Right then, I knew: he was not going to make it. I wanted him to make it, but he just could not do it. How does a man who has difficulty just walking pick up a carton of milk without dropping the rest of his load?

This time the top of the carton struck the concrete sidewalk. Milk spewed in every direction. Milk splattered his feet, his legs, his shirt; droplets dotted his face. 

Back then we were a resolute lot, especially people of his generation. So, he soldiered on. He had lived through some trying times; World War I, the Great Depression, World War II, Korea. Even my generation had been taught what to do in a situation like this: no crying over spilt milk.

And he didn’t cry. He passed his hand over his face, wiping away a few droplets of milk. He reached for the first, upright milk carton, placed it back in the box, and then slowly, carefully managed to raise himself back to a standing position without further crisis.

He resumed his slow, unsteady shuffle; not looking back at his failure, leaving it behind him in the way we had all been taught. In all this time, he had not taken as much as 15 steps. Now, he resumed putting one foot before the other, wobbly but resolute. 

One step. 

Two. 

Three.

I’m not sure what actually happened. Maybe the first milk carton had sustained some damage when it landed upright on the sidewalk and had sprung a slow leak. Maybe all of his efforts had just exhausted the man. Whatever the cause, on his sixth step away from the milk spill, the box caved in the middle.

It happened very fast. The two sides of the box flipped up to meet each other in the middle. The bread and surviving milk cartons flew forward from the old man’s grasp. And he did grasp, at all of it. He actually got one hand on one of the cartons, but it slipped right through.

In a flash, chaos. 

Before him on the sidewalk were two burst milk cartons; a loaf of bread split open and sopping wet with milk, one of the cartons having landed directly on it before spilling and soaking the loaf. And then … while grasping the folded and useless piece of cardboard … then the old man cried.
——————————

In this week’s scriptures, we find both Job and Jesus suffering. Job thought God was the source of his misery, and he just wanted it all to end. He believed he could successfully plead his case if he could just come before God ... if only God could be found. The Psalmist somehow foresaw Jesus suffering at the hands of Roman Soldiers, tapped into the moment when Jesus felt so abandoned by God He cried out: “My God, my God! Why have you forsaken me?”

I wasn’t there when Job nearly crumpled under the weight of the troubles Satan piled on him. I wasn’t there when the Psalmist prophesied the crucifixion of Jesus in Psalm 22. But I was there when that old man, alone in his struggle, tried so hard, but lost it all, anyway. That is carved into my memory. That gives me a sense of the isolation suffered by Job and Jesus ... the crushing sense that God had abandoned them in the time of their greatest need. 

Not only was God aware of Job’s trials —hearing every word his servant Job spoke as he suffered— God had to hear His own son shout out His sense of abandonment as he died in pain. 

If all we had was that, how sad our lives would be. But, the Hebrews selection reminds us that Jesus “in every respect has been tested as we are….” And that because He can “sympathize  with our weaknesses,” we can find help when we need it most.

Do you find yourself in deep distress? Is life, sometimes, just too hard? Do your friends, like Job’s, think you are at fault for the trouble you’re in? Do you, sometimes, think they might be right? In those moments when you feel isolated, abandoned, disregarded, uncared for; unable to find God ... hold on. Even though you feel utterly alone in your suffering, you are not alone. God is there, has been there all along. 

You. Are. Not. Alone. 

_________________________
PHOTO CREDIT: Adobe Spark Post and Adobe Photoshop Express 

The story of the old man is selected from a memoir entitled Incident at 10th and Clark. Locate the link on the right side of the page to read the full memoir (02Memoir-Incident at 10th and Clark):  


_________________________

Sadly, there is no in-person gathering this Friday. So, join us (on Zoom only) for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. We gather at 8:00 for an hour of scripture, discussion, and laughter.

Blessings,
Steve 

Contact me for the Zoom link

NOTE: Zoom allows you to mute the camera if you don’t wish to be seen and to mute the microphone if you don’t wish to speak.

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY & THE COMING WEEK
Find them here: 

Print them here:

Job 23:1-9, 16-17
Psalm 22:1-15
Amos 5:6-7, 10-15
Psalm 90:12-17
Hebrews 4:12-16
Mark 10:17-31

_________________________

Saturday, October 2, 2021

The Director and the Stage Manager (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

I had been elevated ... by the only person with the power and authority to do that.


Were you ever in a play or a musical? Onstage, I mean? For some people, that’s a fun experience. Others find it terrifying. For some, it’s the thrill of a lifetime. The few times I was onstage were cringe worthy experiences; forgotten lines being the main problem. 

My happy place was backstage.

The audience can see and hear much of the production. But, the backstage part is usually never noticed at all. For weeks on end, the stage crews build everything that will appear onstage; the walls, doorways, buildings, platforms, etc. Others dedicate their time and talents to costuming, lighting, sound, marketing, ticket sales ... on and on. 

In my theatre days, we didn’t have the phrase, “It takes a village.” But, that’s what it takes. 

It was here, in my part of the theatre, that one of the most important moments of my life would occur. We had finally come to Dress Rehearsal; the night before Opening Night; the night before the public would actually appear to serve as the final arbiters of all our work. As Stage Manager, it was my job to ensure we were ready. 

I surveyed the people under my charge, They were all diligently performing their tasks; from lighting and sound preparation, to the last minute checks of a large house that had to move about the stage on concealed wheels; to those making sure the actors were at the spots where they entered onstage.

That’s when the Director came and asked the question I was expecting: “Are you ready?” He had asked that question before, and I had always answered honestly, even if the answer was that we were not 100% ready. Complete honesty was the only way that relationship could work. That night, though, I could say, with great satisfaction, “Yes. We are ready.” 

He looked me in the eye, saw that I was certain, and then spoke the words that would mean so much to my young life (and all the years to follow). “Good. Then, the show is yours.”

He had never said anything like that, before. 

In my head, I was thinking something like, “How can it be my show? This is his show!” But, no. The Director was going to be sitting in the audience for the performance; as, in fact, were all the other directors, designers, teachers ... all those who had worked so hard to hone this into art. None of them would be on the stage for the performance. None of them would be backstage. Whatever we delivered to the audience from this point, it was entirely up to us.

From that point, I was in charge

Though I hadn’t been consciously aware of it, I was one of those pieces being honed over the preceding weeks and months. He had been preparing me for this, the moment when I would be fully in charge of whatever we brought to that audience.

No one had ever said anything even remotely like that to me in my entire life.

No one had ever placed me in charge of anything. The impact on me was ... transformative. And, even though there were many ups and downs over the next few nights —and, indeed, over the rest of my life— that moment, and all it meant, remained with me. It has been a reservoir of confidence to draw on in good times and bad. 

I had been elevated ... by the only person with the power and authority to do so: The Director. 

I recalled that moment when reading this week’s Hebrews selection; where the writer is explaining about Jesus. God, the only person with the power and authority to do so, elevated Jesus to be “the heir of all things,” to inherit a name above any angel, to be the one who “sustains all things by His powerful word,” to sit down “at the right hand of the Majesty on high.”

And how did that come to be? Jesus obeyed. 

He obeyed God in all He did in His three decades, here. He willingly became the ”pioneer” of our salvation through suffering and death. Because of his unfailing obedience, Jesus now speaks for God. 

It’s His show.

_________________________
PHOTO CREDIT (scene from Fiddler in the Roof):

_________________________

We’ll be at DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast, this Friday morning at 8:00.
Join us on Zoom** or in person at Our Breakfast Place (formerly the Egg and I). It’s a fun hour. Good food, good folk. We eat. We talk scripture. We laugh.

Blessings,
Steve 

 **Contact me for the Zoom link

NOTE: Zoom allows you to mute the camera if you don’t wish to be seen and to mute the microphone if you don’t wish to speak.

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY & THE COMING WEEK
Find them here: 

Print them here:

Job 1:1, 2:1-10
Psalm 26
Genesis 2:18-24
Psalm 8
Hebrews 1:1-4, 2:5-12
Mark 10:2-16