Hawks Above the Frio (a Steve Orr Lectionary reflection)

The Frio River is cold ... really cold ... take-your-breath-away cold. The temperature of the Frio is counterintuitive. All about, the Texas heat is a hundred degrees and more, but the river remains shockingly cold.

We were spending the week at the Laity Lodge Family Camp, which sits right at the headwaters of the Frio. This is the location of the fabled “Blue Hole,” a place known for an icy plunge. All I had to do was just place the tip of my foot into that river to register its extreme cold temperature. No plunge necessary, thank you.

I write this about the Frio to highlight a kind of paradox. On the west side of those headwaters is a cliff that towers over the little river; its pocks, notches, and caves starkly etched by the morning sun, and all but invisible when the sun slips behind its edge at end of day. And it is that cliff which is the site of the paradox.

There are hawks above the Frio.

It you’ve ever watched hawks, you know they do a lot of gliding. They catch the lift of rising thermals. These warm thrusts of air allow them to gently spiral up, up, up ... until they finally tilt over and either glide or dive. Hawks are hunters. They repeat this process, with only a little change each time, to help them spot and then claim their prey. This is how they get their food.

Above the Frio, the hawks perform as expected. They corkscrew up alongside the face of that cliff, and then, when they reach the end of that thermal, they either glide along the cliff face in a long, slow decent, or they dive hard and fast toward their target. Eventually, as they near the bottom of their passage, those hawks catch another thermal and start a new ascent.

I sat and watched them do this for hours.

Oh, not all at once. That’s a cumulative number. There are some rockers which face the cliff and afford a perfect view of this beautiful dance. I love to sit there and just watch. But you can see this spectacle from almost anywhere in the central part of the camp. I sat one morning on the back porch of our casita and watched them glide across our length of the Frio as they swooped back toward the headwaters, searching for that next thermal.

The paradox, of course, is how there are thermals, at all.

The air above that river should not even be warm, much less hot enough to lift hawks above the lip of the cliff ... and yet, there they are. Somehow, God has contrived to place extreme Texas heat and extreme cold adjacent to one another and make them both do wonderful things. Neither appears limited by the other in any observable way.

God does some amazing things, and we can observe them —even participate in them— if we are open to what appear to be paradoxes. In this week’s Lectionary scriptures are some great examples of that. I love how the Psalmist in 138 praises God because "you increased my strength of soul," and how in 130 the Psalmist describes God's "great power to redeem." There's that stunning (and often skipped over) statement by Jesus in Mark 3:28 ("Truly I tell you, people will be forgiven for their sins and whatever blasphemies they utter").

I could spend hours reflecting on those passages. What is “strength of soul” and how is it increased? God knows. And then, of course, there is the great paradox of redemption: God redeems us even though we don’t deserve it. Why? God knows. And it pairs perfectly with the forgiveness of blasphemies ... not something we humans are very good about doing. Thank God for that forgiveness.

This brings to mind the 2 Corinthians passage: "Everything is for your sake, so that grace, as it extends to more and more people, may increase thanksgiving, to the glory of God." Do you see the formula in there? Expansion of Grace = Increase in Thanksgiving (to the glory of God). And, as each person receives that extension of grace, it doesn't result in only the addition of thanksgiving; rather, the thanksgiving increases exponentially. Like those hawks above the Frio, grace increases thanksgiving in ever-rising spirals. Mysterious. Beautiful. And God is glorified.

How? God knows.

___________________________
READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
Proper 5 (10) (June 10, 2018)

1 Samuel 8:4-11, (12-15), 16-20, (11:14-15)
Psalm 138
Genesis 3:8-15
Psalm 130
2 Corinthians 4:13-5:1
Mark 3:20-35
___________________________

DaySpring’s Lectionary Breakfast meets every Friday morning at 8:00. We gather at the Waco "Egg and I" for food, fellowship, Bible discussion, prayer, and laughter. All are welcome.

Blessings,
Steve

Radiant (a Lectionary reflection by Steve Orr)

Winters in our little river city could be harsh. When the cold temps combined with the wind off the river, the result was bone-chilling. And one place we could almost always count on to experience that cold was in Mrs. Maguire's Algebra class. Oh, there was nothing wrong with the radiators in her classroom. They performed their steamy duty as well as any. No, the problem was the windows.

If Mrs. Maguire thought anyone's attention was drifting, or their participation was subpar, she opened those windows.

Plus, to underscore how serious she was about the need to be engaged in her class, she would relocate people to sit by the open windows. Now, I'll grant you the radiators were directly below the windows. So, no matter how cold it was on that side of the room, no one was in any real danger. Those radiators kept radiating.

Still, as you can imagine, most of us were especially vigilant in her class that winter. Sitting next to the radiators could be warm, but that could change in an instant if she opened the windows to let those winter winds slice into the room.

Those radiators, whether warming us or serving the will of Mrs. Maguire, could have been called a different term: radiants. For the most part, we use "radiant" as an adjective. It has synonyms like illuminated, brilliant, gleaming, glowing, ablaze, luminous, luminescent, lustrous, incandescent, dazzling, shimmering, resplendent. We say things like "she looked radiant that evening" or "the radiant energy filled the room."

But it also works as a noun.

A person or thing can BE a radiant; the conduit for all that energy outflow.

I have to wonder if that is what the Psalmist means when he writes in this week's Lectionary, "Those who look to him are radiant; their faces are never covered with shame.” (Psalm‬ ‭34:5‬ ‭NIV‬‬) 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.

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. Disconnected, they would have been just so much cold metal. What about us? Are we radiants? Do we spend so much time in the presence of the Lord that others cannot help but experience God's warmth and glow?

Be a radiant.
_____________________________________

READINGS FOR THE COMING WEEK
http://lectionary.library.vanderbilt.edu/

Proper 25 (30) (October 25, 2015)
First reading and Psalm
Job 42:1-6, 10-17
Psalm 34:1-8, (19-22)
Alternate First reading and Psalm
Jeremiah 31:7-9
Psalm 126
Second reading
Hebrews 7:23-28
Gospel
Mark 10:46-52
_____________________________________

Fall is such a busy time. I hope you can make time to come to Lectionary Breakfast on Friday morning. We gather at 8:00 for an hour of fellowship, scripture reading, discussion; plus a few laughs along the way. Join us at the Waco "Egg and I" restaurant for a sure fire way to ensure you have a great week.

Enjoy!
Steve