Breathing Life into It All

Psalm 150

"Praise the LORD.
Praise God in his sanctuary;
praise him in his mighty heavens.

Praise him for his acts of power;

praise him for his surpassing greatness.

Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet,

praise him with the harp and lyre,

praise him with timbrel and dancing,

praise him with the strings and pipe,

praise him with the clash of cymbals,

praise him with resounding cymbals.

Let everything that has breath praise the LORD.
Praise the LORD."

One grey tipped sock after the other, he turns a little circle on the kitchen floor. Through my iPod comes a song of rejoicing, and he belts out the words in a voice the is not quite in rhythm, not quite in tune, and much more of a yell than a singing voice. As this little wobbly boy rocks back and forth, around and around, I notice the way that God pulses through all that allow him in. Gideon loves God, and knows nothing more than to embrace him with all his voice.

In Gideon's right hand, he holds the yellow handle of his brilliant green golf bag. Inside, some upside-down and some right-side-up, clubs stick out at crammed angles, clattering against one another as he spins, jumps, and sways.

He has made them his dance partner in this wonderful action. "Oh praise Him!" he calls with his mouth wide, now stomping his feet on the kitchen tile in his circle of praise. But it isn't necessarily a declaration is it? Oh praise Him is a commandment, a statement of calling forth a response. Coming from the lips of this two year old, it sounds more like a sweet invitation.

Look at me, his mannerisms say, I am lost in the love of God, in the beauty of today, in the happiness of this moment! Join me! Join me in this praise, this brilliant dance, the revelry in the joy of life!

It's an invitation given long ago as well. Psalm 150, it ends the great book of ancient hymns and prayers with a similar declarative line: "Let everything that has breath praise the LORD." It invites song and dance. It invites all life inside the very moment of praising God.

But Gideon, I'm pretty convinced, is interested in more than that which has breath. He's looking right at his jostling golf clubs and telling them to praise God, for He is holy (yeah...) He intent on getting the inanimate to join in his praise of God.

And why not? If David could praise the LORD with harp and lyre, trumpets and timbrels, then why can't Gideon praise with the rhythm of golf clubs in a plastic golf bag. He's breathing life into them, turning every little piece of the day into a praise, showing an understanding of Scripture much beyond him but teaching it plainly to his wonder-struck father.

Diet of Perserverance: Part Two

A week ago, I wrote a post about what students in my class chose to eat. The idea is that we, as Christians, often love the foundations of the faith but never really want to struggle any further, gain any more depth, etc.

As I have reflected on these thoughts, two stories have come to my attention. The first story was from the "Parchment and Pen" blog. It told the story of a group of people in a town of apathy hearing that there was going to be a big race, with lots of prizes for all those who chose to run. Most people didn't believe there would be a race, but a good number decided to go and run. Some people trained hard, some didn't, some just showed up out of curiosity. When the race began, people acted very strange. Many would cross the starting line, turn and celebrate the fact that they were racing! Then they stopped and encouraged all the bystanders to come cross the starting line as well. They would celebrate, and then stand in circles talking about how great it was to start the race. But obviously, they were missing something.

The other story that caught my attention is much older, it is by St. John of the Cross, called The Dark Night of the Soul. This classic considers what happens when God chooses to move us into a deeper walk with him, often by trying to get us to focus on Him rather than the pleasures and blessings He brings. For St. John, spiritual activity that is motivated by the feelings of comfort, consolation, and pleasure it provides is very immature. Instead, it is through facing the dryness and the difficulty that we walk closer to God.

And of course, that is Biblical as well. James, the book I treacherously traverse each spring with my 8th graders, begins with an admonition to take on an attitude of joy in the face of many trials. The reason why? Trials develop perseverance. In other words, there are reasons to face the dark, dry and difficult things of the world... they help you develop, instead of just stand at the starting line.

My students, I often wonder if they wish to develop. They avoid difficulty like they avoided the nuts and the cibiatta bread I offered them. It's funny, the nuts signified difficulty and the cibiatta bread was a symbol of sacrifice. Not the most enjoyable things, but things that lead to maturation.

Which brings me to me. I spend a lot of time during difficulties and dry nights trying to figure out how to get out of them with the least amount of pain possible. What does that escapism develop? Nothing most likely. When I don't know what to plan for church on a Sunday morning, I take thirty minutes and figure that whatever I come up with will be good enough. When I can't hear from God, I don't still myself more and listen more intently, I immediately take up my same old complaint chorus.

So maybe I am like my students, always grabbing the M&Ms and pushing aside dry nuts. I need more of a diet of perseverance, one that faces all the hards and softs of life, the sweet and the bitter. Perhaps then I might be "mature and complete, not lacking anything."