Kairos

I simply love the Greeks for recognizing time is more than the tick of the clock. I am eternally appreciative for their finding a "just right" word for that "just right" kind of time. They called it kairos. Pregnant time. Time full of potential just waiting for the right moment to show up.

Truth be told, this is the kind of time in which we live and breathe and move. Sure there are the constraints of the 9 to 5 and the overly full calendar which seem to dictate our lives. The deadening meter of seconds, minutes, hours, days, weeks, months, years, decades, and centuries, relentlessly devours our lives. But it is never the tick of the clock which gives us meaning. The clock only measures and a measurement does not a moment make.

moment - noun - 1 a brief period of time. 2 an exact point in time. 3 formal importance

I've had a few of these lately. Brief periods of time, at exact points, filled with importance. They give meaning, texture, and life to the lifeless ticking of the clock. Moments when it was abundantly evident that somehow I had managed to hear and to heed that still small voice.

These moments were born from simple things; an unplanned stop while running mundane errands which leads to a conversation I have been looking to have for a long time; hauling a postcard around with me for weeks on end wondering why I keep forgetting to mail it only to discover that it arrives in kairos; preaching yet another sermon on yet another Sunday which reaches people at their exact point of need; sitting at my kitchen table with my family and knowing with glowing certainty that this is exactly where I am supposed to be at this moment.

Here's to kairos! Throw away your watches and day timers! Be ever vigilant for the times that give meaning to the seconds and minutes and hours and days. Don't miss the time of your life!

"Look carefully then how you walk, not as unwise but as wise, making the best use of the time [kairov], because the days are evil." (Ephesians 5:15-16)

So Death is Coming...

"This sombre series of portraits taken of people before and after they had died is a challenging and poignant study. The work by German photographer Walter Schels and his partner Beate Lakotta, who recorded interviews with the subjects in their final days, reveals much about dying - and living." Life Before Death, a photo essay by Walter Schels.

Above is a sample of a moving, disturbing, poignant series of photos that my friend Lucy brought to my attention. I have viewed the entire series on several occasions and am captured by the stories of each of the subjects, for indeed they are our stories. (I encourage you to do the same by clicking here or go to www.guardian.co.uk and search "Life Before Death & Walter Schels.) We live a myth of immortality which, though disturbed by the inconvenient intrusion of death from time to time, we are surprisingly adept at maintaining. This series of photos causes us to pause not with a morbid voyerism but with an unambiguous acknowledgement that we too will pass this way.

I found the wide variety of responses to death in those facing it squarely engaging. Some worldviews show through clearly (reincarnation, resurrection, anihilation, etc.) while others respond solely to the emotive power of the moment be it anger, great sadness, or ambivalence. In my experience with those facing death or walking this shadowed path with a loved one there is an equally wide ranging set of responses. I am often surprised by this as the vast majority of those I serve in these moments are immersed in a Christian worldview, yet thier responses in these moments are anything but the Christian understanding of this event. (I will address this in a later post...)

Very often when I officiate (what an interesting term...from the Latin, to provide divine service) a funeral I remind those gathered that this is a moment for solemn reflection as they too will someday have their name at the head of an obituary column. What then is to be done with the life we are given to live? Moses put his request before God in these words, "Teach us to number our days aright, that we may gain a heart of wisdom." (Psalm 90:12).

So, death is coming. An unavoidable question arises, are you, am I, living in such a manner as to be fully prepared for this approaching moment?

The Man With No Hope

I was in a convenience store the other day getting my wife's coffee (hers is green, comes in a 20 oz. bottle, and is made by Pepsi) and as I was standing in line to check out I overheard the following conversation between a gentleman in line and the cashier.

"Happy New Year!"

"Happy New Year to you too. Yours has got to be better than mine."

"Why do you say that?" (as she scans the the things he is purchasing)

"I just found out I have cancer."

"I'm so sorry to hear that. What are you going to do?"

"I'll tell you what I'm going to do, I'm gonna' party my ass off." (pays for his items and walks out the door)

I groaned inwardly for this gentleman and silently lifted a prayer for him. I deal regularly with sickness and death. Often it is up close and personal as I sit in hospital waiting rooms with family or as I stand by bedsides with hospice nurses hovering nearby. However, most often I am alongside members of my church family; people who have hope. Hearing this man's desperate declaration reminded me that many in this world live without hope.

I wonder about this man who is now "partying his ass off". I wonder how he will deal with his hopelessness when he finds moments of sobriety. I wonder how he will face the reality of his situation in those mornings when he finds himself alone and still facing the specter of death. I wonder what happens when the dull ache of emptiness presses through the haze of alcohol or drugs.

Dallas Willard accurately observes that "loneliness is loose upon the landscape. In haunts the penthouse and the rectory, the executive suite and the millionaire's mansion, as well as the barren apartment, the assembly line, the cocktail bar and the city streets. It is the leprosy of the modern world." (from Hearing God, emphasis added)

"So remember your Creator while you are still young, before those dismal days and years come when you will say, " I don't enjoy life." That is when the light of the sun, the moon, and the stars will grow dim for you, and the rain clouds will never pass away. Then your arms, that have protected you, will tremble, and your legs, now strong, will grow weak. Your teeth will be too few to chew your food, and your eyes too dim to see clearly. Your ears will be deaf to the noise of the street. You will barely be able to hear the mill as is grinds or music as it plays, but even the song of a bird will wake you from sleep. You will be afraid of high places, and walking will be dangerous. You hair will turn white; you will hardly be able to drag yourself along,and all desire will be gone.

We are going to our final resting place, and then there will be mourning in the streets. The silver chain will snap, and the golden lamp will fall and break; the rope at the well will break, and the water jar will be shattered. Our bodies will return to the dust of the earth, and the breath of life will go back to God, who gave it to us. Vanity, vanity, says the preacher, all is vanity.

After all this, there is only one thing to say: Have reverence for God and obey his commands, for this is the whole duty of man."

(Ecclesiastes 12:1-8 and 13 GNB)

Hello Blog Flock! I'm back.

"Suppose one of you has a hundred sheep and loses one of them. Does he not leave the ninety-nine in the open country and go after the lost sheep until he finds it? And when he finds it, he joyfully puts it on his shoulders and goes home." (Luke 15:3-5)

I'm back. To all of you who have checked in and found me missing I apologize. However, I gladly tell you that an intensive season of ministering to the flock I have the privilege to pastor is moderating a bit and I hope to be back to my blogging with more regularity. I miss you guys!

Three births, two weddings, numerous health crises, a revival, various board meetings, two funerals and nearly 4000 miles logged in 3 weeks have kept this shepherd on the run. It is nice to be still for a few moments.

I've got some good stories to share, some new thoughts rattling around in my head, and several unfinished blog projects to pick up. Plenty to do. Monday Morning Message will resume October 8 - feel free to tune in!

A quick quote of note for the day...

"I have never heard anyone says, 'The really deep lessons of life have come through times of ease and comfort.' But I have heard strong saints say, 'Every significant advance I have ever made in grasping the depths of God's love and growing deep with him, has come through suffering.' Samuel Rutherford said that when he was cast into the cellars of affliction, he remembered that the great King always kept his wine there. Charles Spurgeon said that those who dive in the sea of affliction bring up rare pearls." (John Piper, Desiring God)

This Shepherd is with His Flock

Please pardon my absence. I have been intending to post and I even have a couple of posts in draft form just not ready to show to the world. The Monday Morning Message this week may be a Friday morning dispatch and the first stop on the pilgrimage (A Shepherd's Tale) is just around the corner. I am simply with my flock right now. Numerous people and families dealing with numerous issues from births to deaths and all the things in between.

If you have moment pray for me it would be appreciated - strength, endurance, and a sensitive spirit for what looks to be a long run of intensive ministry.

How Many Do You Have?

Vapor. Mist. A passing shadow. Grass that has been cut. Smoke.

These are only a few of the images used in the Bible to describe the tenuous hold we have on life. We tend to think of our lives in terms of years. Long, comfortable periods of time marked by seasons and celebrations. The Bible repeatedly refers to our lives in terms of days. Short, staccato flashes of time that disappear as quickly as they come.

Years are luxurious.

Days are demanding.

Moses, in Psalm 90:12, asks God to "teach us to number our days aright that we may gain a heart of wisdom." Numbering our days. There's a thought. Have you considered how many you have? What if you only had a few remaining? Would you live any differently? I believe Moses understood the idea that the only day he had to live was the present one. To number our days correctly doesn't require the ability to count very high. If you can count to "one" then you have correctly numbered your days.

Are there any relationships in your life needing to be mended? Are there any loved ones to whom you need to say "I love you"? Are there any matters you need to put right with God? If you answered "Yes" to any of these questions (or the thousand others that would be applicable to your life), I challenge you to take action immediately. Sign off the World Wide Web and do it. You can surf later (maybe), but you may not have the opportunity to put these other matters right.

Number your days correctly. You have exactly one day to live.