Mother Goose and the Mountain Afire (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

I have long been infatuated by the stories behind songs. I will go to almost any lengths to find out just how a lyric was crafted and, more important, why. That’s what happened when I started looking for the meaning behind ”Fire on the mountain, run boys run!” 

If that sounds familiar, it’s because you likely heard it in the chorus of “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” as performed by Charlie Daniels and his band. They belt it out each time they play the winning side of the fiddle war between Johnny and the Devil.*

 

I loved it. But I didn’t understand it. Those chorus lyrics don’t seem to connect in any meaningful way. Turns out each line of that chorus is an homage to a different well-known Bluegrass tune; those tunes hardest to play, the ones fiddlers must try to play as fast as possible. 

 

Eventually, my investigation led me to Bill Monroe and The Bluegrass Boys for their rendition of “Fire on the Mountain.” It’s just what you would expect after hearing Charlie Daniels fire off a snippet: rollicking, hand-clapping, boot-stomping fast. You can just see the dancers whirling about the floor. ***

 

But the search wasn’t over.

 

I tracked the origin of that phrase to 1825 Boston, Massachusetts. I was shocked to learn those words were first written on paper by none other than Mother Goose:

 

“Hogs in the garden, catch ‘em Towser;

Cows in the corn-field, run boys run;

Cats in the cream-pot, run girls, run girls;

Fire on the mountains, run boys run.”

 

That’s where I considered stopping. Who knows where that search might end? Maybe we’ve had that image with us for millennia. I was beginning to think I might never stop finding people running away from fiery mountains. And speaking of millennia, in this week’s Deuteronomy passage, there is at least one instance of real people experiencing a real fire on a real mountain.

 

Try to imagine what it was like to stand at the foot of Mount Horeb, hearing the thundering voice of God, experiencing the overwhelming intensity of His fire. How big was it? How bright was it? How hot was it? I'm guessing it was way, way up on some kind of scale, well above volcano level. Who knows, maybe there is no scale. If mere angels are beings of light so bright they have to open with "Fear not!"—Well, no wonder God's people wanted no more exposure to "this great fire."

 

And that's how we got prophets.

 

Here's the thing about fire: We like it. But we like...a certain distance. Same, it turns out, with God. We humans can only take just so much direct exposure to God. God's solution to this was to send prophets who would speak in His name. 

 

We must never make the mistake of believing we worship a teddy-bear god. God is not snuggly. Our God is loud, and hot, and very, very bright. He is the "stuff" of the universe, the fuel that fires the stars; volcanoes are but a tiny part of Him. He is not just "powerful." He is where power comes from.

 

The descendants of Jacob got that, and wisely chose to put some distance between themselves and God. 

 

Today, it’s different. "This great fire" chose to loose His claim on heaven and, instead, inhabit the body of a human. He once again speaks with humans directly; up close and personal, like in the days of the first Adam. Knowing this, we appreciate anew the sacrifice Jesus made for us and the intermediary He continues to be for us. 

 

“Fire on the mountain, run boys run” takes on a whole new meaning. Now, unlike God's people who drew back from that fire on that mountain, we can draw near. We can run toward it. 

 

Run girls, run girls. Run boys run.

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PHOTO: Steve Orr (an Icelandic peak)

A fascinating little article explaining how the tongues of flame at Pentecost connected to that “fire on the mountain” when God came down to speak the law to the Israelites: 

https://ffoz.org/messiah/articles/fire-on-the-mountain

 

* Listen to the Charlie Daniels Band perform “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wBjPAqmnvGA

 

*** Hear Bill Monroe and the Bluegrass Boys perform “Fire on the Mountain” - 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hOlJs3gObkg

 

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Join us Friday morning? DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast starts at 8:00. We meet on Zoom** and in person at Our Breakfast Place. There’s Bible, laughter, discussion, and fellowship. 

 

Blessings,

Steve

 

 **Contact me for the Zoom link

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

 

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY AND THE COMING WEEK

Find them here: 

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=63

 

Print them here:

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/pdf//Bx_FourthSundayafterEpiphany.pdf

 

Deuteronomy 18:15-20

Psalm 111

1 Corinthians 8:1-13

Mark 1:21-28

Fourth Sunday after the Epiphany (January 28, 2024)

 

On Fishing With Bullets (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

We were at lunch when we had one of those bizarre conversations that I am convinced only guys can have. It was strange, shocking, and repugnant all at the same time.

 

One of the guys told a story about how he had been sitting on the dock and using a SIG Sauer handgun to shoot into his pond. The next thing he knew, there were about a dozen perch floating around the point where the bullet entered the water. 

 

"Oh, don't worry,” the tale-teller said. “They were just stunned by the concussive force. In a few minutes, they woke up and swam away." 

 

Another guy said, "Too bad you can't really fish that way. You could just scoop them out with your hand."  

 

That’s when the conversation spiraled off into an even more bizarre discussion about various weapons that might be used to “catch” fish. 

 

In a completely different way, this week's Mark passage shows Jesus doing some extraordinary fishing, too—much nicer, but still shocking. In the space of a few minutes, Jesus scooped up Peter and Andrew, and then James and John; the first third of his central disciple group. He offered these four fishers of fish the training to become fishers of people. Something about that offer made them willing to just stop what they were doing and walk away from the lives they had known.

 

Think about it. That’s shocking.

 

I have long puzzled over that. Just exactly how do we fish for people? The idea, strange as it sounds, so resonated with those Galilean fishermen, and was so intriguing, they left behind their very livelihood to follow Jesus. I know I am only one of millions who have given this much consideration, and I know there are many answers out there.

 

I would suggest we go to scripture to find our best answer. Those Galileans knew who and what they were: fishermen. We, too, know who and what we are—and, as they likely were, we are clear on how God should best use us. Yet, God continues to call us to do different—to be different. It can be confusing, even frustrating. 

 

If that confusion and frustration feels familiar, then this week’s Psalm 62 passage is for you. The Psalmist has wrestled with this seeming disconnect and found an answer—and a refuge. Whom we belong to matters. If we recognize the one whose image and inscription we bear, it will also impact what we might become.

Do you sometimes feel you're like one of those stunned fish, just floating on the surface of life’s pond? If we are willing, we can shake off that paralysis, be like those first people Jesus called. Those four Galilean fishers of fish likely knew that psalm—and to whom they belonged. It’s certain something in them recognized the call to become more than they had imagined themselves to be. 

And they followed.

 

______________________

PHOTO: Steve Orr (Koi pond in Texas)

 

Friday mornings are special. Find out why. Join us at 8:00 for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast on Zoom** or in person at Our Breakfast Place. Bible, discussion, fellowship, and laughter are front and center for the hour.

 

Blessings,

Steve

 

 **Contact me for the Zoom link

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

 

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY AND THE COMING WEEK

Find them here: 

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=62

 

Print them from here:

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/pdf//Bx_ThirdSundayafterEpiphany.pdf

 

Jonah 3:1-5, 10

Psalm 62:5-12

1 Corinthians 7:29-31

Mark 1:14-20

Third Sunday after the Epiphany (January 21, 2024)

 

The Driving Lesson (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

My mother taught me to drive because my father couldn’t. It’s not that he lacked the skills or the time. In fact, he insisted he be the one to teach me. But, as anyone who has ever taught someone to drive can attest, the driving instructor must remain calm—something Dad just could not do with me at the wheel.

 

So, when the incident occurred, it was Mama in the passenger seat. My 16th birthday, the earliest day I could take my driving test, was rapidly approaching. After taking me out to drive a few country roads—just to be sure I could keep the car between the ditches—Mama decided I was ready for town streets. I clearly recall driving on Ninth Street toward the traffic light at the intersection with Kentucky Avenue.

 

As we approached the traffic signal on Ninth, it turned red. So, of course, I brought the car to a halt. I was feeling pretty good about it all, that being my first time to stop at a traffic signal. And then, the odd thing: Mama looked over and said, "When the light turns green, don't go. Wait until I tell you." 

 

I remember being puzzled. I had read my driver's handbook. I knew we were supposed to stop on red and go on green. In fact, not only was it expected, it was my right. When the light was green, I had the right of way. 

 

But, because Mama said so, when that light turned green, I just sat there—even though the driver behind me honked his horn.  

 

Then a car ran that red light.

 

Fast and furious, that car cut straight through the space we would have occupied—if I had asserted my rights. Had I driven forward as soon as I had the green light, we would have been T-boned from the right. 

 

I learned a life lesson that day. 

 

I call it "jumping the green." That’s my phrase for those actions we take simply because we can. They are allowed, so we do them. But, as was so stunningly demonstrated to me that day late in my 15th year, they may not always be wise.

 

As life moves around us, often fast and sometimes furious, contemplating this week’s Corinthians passage might be useful. Yes, we believers have incredible freedom, but we don’t have to always exercise that freedom. Something we could do might be technically legal, but not helpful, wise, or spiritually appropriate. 

“Jumping the green” may not be best. 

_________________________

PHOTO (Intersection in Boston’s Back Bay): Steve Orr

 

 

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Lectionary Breakfast is our time to explore, in light of the teachings of scripture, those kinds of allowed-but-not-always-wise choices life tosses our way. Join us Friday morning at 8:00 on Zoom** or in person at Our Breakfast Place. It’s an interesting hour of Bible, food, discussion, prayer, and laughter.

 

Blessings,

Steve

 

 **Contact me for the Zoom link

 

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

 

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY AND THE COMING WEEK

Find them here: 

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=61

 

Print them from here:

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/pdf//Bx_SecondSundayafterEpiphany.pdf

 

1 Samuel 3:1-10, (11-20)

Psalm 139:1-6, 13-18

1 Corinthians 6:12-20

John 1:43-51

Second Sunday after the Epiphany (January 14, 2024)

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We Three Kings (Scientists?) (a Steve Orr scripture reflection)

Let’s just get this out on the table, up front: We don’t know.

 

The Christmas carol calls them “kings,” says there were three of them, and makes it plain they traveled “afar” from somewhere in the “Orient.”

 

None of that is likely. 

 

Based on most cultures of that time and place, they probably were men. There is no evidence that they were kings, however. Three is the number of gifts they brought, according to Matthew, but he never states how many people came with those gifts. And, while scripture states they came from “the east,” nowhere does it say from how far east they traveled. Instead of kings, Matthew calls them “Magi,” a word generally used at that time meaning “wise men.” There’s nothing in the record to suggest they were particularly wise, though.

 

But were they, as some suggest, scientists? *

 

Here’s what we think we know. Some night sky watchers (astronomers?) from somewhere east of Israel saw a light in the sky they had never seen before. They interpreted its presence to mean a new “King of the Jews” had been born. Somehow, this light—the star—appeared to be moving westward, in the direction of Israel. The wise men noted when the star first appeared, packed up some supplies and gifts, and headed west without knowing their final destination. They upset Herod “and all of Jerusalem” when they told why they had come. Scripture suggested the child had been born in Bethlehem. The Magi left Jerusalem, following the star until it “stopped” over a house. They went into the house where they presented their gifts to Mary and the baby.

 

None of that actually explains what the Magi saw or why they believed it heralded the birth of Israel’s new king. It could be a planetary alignment, but could a planetary alignment appear to move westward? Maybe. 

 

We are left with lots and lots of supposition, and little clarity about those visitors from the East. 

 

But here’s what we can know. 

 

God got their attention by placing something unusual where they couldn’t help but see it. God led them to Jesus. God enticed them to leave the comfort of their homes and travel to meet Jesus—and bring gifts fit for a king.

 

Do their titles or life situation matter? No. Does their place of departure matter? No. Does it matter how far they traveled? No. Does it matter how many of them came to see Jesus? No. Does it matter what God used to draw them to Jesus? No.  

 

The same is true today. Regardless of our location, title, group, gifts, distance, or station in life, God calls us in ways we understand, and then leads us gently to meet Jesus. 

 

And the only gift the King wants is us. 

 

 

____________________

If you’re interested, here are a few articles about the Magi:

* What the Magi Had in Common with Scientists:

https://theconversation.com/what-the-magi-had-in-common-with-scientists-70301

Were the Magi from Persia?

https://dwightlongenecker.com/were-the-magi-from-persia/

PHOTO (Who Were the Magi?);

https://biblearchaeologyreport.com/2022/12/22/who-were-the-magi/

_________________________

 

I hope you can join us Friday morning on Zoom** or in person at Our Breakfast Place for DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast. We start at 8:00. Come and enjoy the fellowship of others who seek “the King of the Jews.”

 

Blessings,

Steve

 

 **Contact me for the Zoom link

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

 

SCRIPTURES FOR SUNDAY AND THE COMING WEEK

Find them here: 

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/texts.php?id=59

 

Print them from here:

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/pdf//Bx_EpiphanyoftheLord.pdf

 

Isaiah 60:1-6

Psalm 72:1-7, 10-14

Ephesians 3:1-12

Matthew 2:1-12

Epiphany of the Lord (January 6, 2024)

Chart of Lectionary readings through Epiphany-tide:

https://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/lections.php?year=B&season=Epiphany