What did the boy know?

After 1 Samuel 17:26-49 

What did the boy know,

what did the boy think,

as he approached the giant,

the giant hurling insults

and taunts? Did the boy

feel uncertainty, feel fear?

Did he walk across

the field with a sinking 

heart or with confidence

and trust? Did he hear

the angry words of his

own brothers, embarrassed

by their cowardice, their

own fear? What we know

is this: the boy knew

the king’s own armor 

was not only useless but

a hindrance, to be cast

aside. What we know is 

this: the boy picked up

five smooth stones from

the creek bed, his only

armament against

the armed giant. What we do

know is this: the boy 

with the stones prevailed

against the armed giant,

the boy anointed 

by his Lord.

 

Photograph by Awais Jamil via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

On Hospitality – Anthony Esolen at Word & Song.

 

Why Dads Still Matter – J. Warner Wallace at Cold-Case Christianity.

 

Evangelism and the Cynic – Melissa Edgington at Your Mom Has a Blog.

It's never about us

After 1 Samuel 17:26-49 

It’s never about us,

this life we live,

this world we inhabit;

it never is. And it never

was about us. A drama

unfolds across the years, 

across the millennia, 

across time human

and divine, a drama

in which we play but

a small part. No, it’s

not about us, but

about the one who

has written the drama,

the playwright, as

it’s always been.

 

Photograph by Hamish Kale via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

“Psalm,” poem by Michellan Sarile-Alagao – D.S. Martin at Kingdom Poets.

 

Seeing God’s Faithfulness in the Mundane – Lara d’Entremont at A Mother Held.

 

“Softly and Tenderly,” hymn by Will Thompson – Anthony Esolen at Word & Song.

 

I Miss the Stars – Seth Lewis.

Small things

After 1 Samuel 17:26-49 

The small things

of this world are

sometimes the most

powerful things

of this world. Like

using a small, smooth

stone to fight an army

with its champion 

a taunting giant,

a giant working fear

into the hearts of

ordinary men. But

a taunting giant is

no match for one

smooth stone, cast

by a boy, the Lord’s

anointed, a boy

outraged by insults

hurled at the army

of the living God.

 

Photograph by John Salzarulo via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

God Is Our Guide on Paths We Did Not Choose – Glenna Marshall.

 

What Does a Post-Literate Culture Look Like? – O. Alan Noble at You Are Not Your Own.

 

One of These (Beatitudes) Is Not Like the Others! – Br. Patrick Bubel at The Imaginative Conservative.

It was the boy

After I Samuel 16:1-13 

It wasn’t any of the men

whom the Lord chose,

the men so imposing 

and handsome, conforming

to human expectations

of what a king should be.

It was the boy, handsome,

yes, but the critical thing

wasn’t the appearance.

It was the boy’s heart,

the boy’s heart that

sought God, the heart

that would listen to God

and slay giants. Anoint

the boy, for this is the one

I’ve chosen, a boy after

my own heart.

 

Photograph by Onur Binay via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

The Hare and the Lamb – story by Paul Kingsnorth.

 

“Sabbaths 2020 VIII,” poem by Wendell Berry – D.S. Martin at Kingdom Poets.

 

Why my watch buzzes at 10:02 every morning – Ed Stych at Fishers of Men.

 

“The Day Thou Gavest,” hymn by John Ellerton – Anthony Esolen at Word & Song.

 

Light Little Fires – Chris Martin at FYI.

 

Dappled Glory – poem by Seth Lewis.

It is the heart

After I Samuel 16:1-13 

One by one they file by,

the seven sons, each

pleasing in their own

way, especially in

their appearance. And

one by one, the Lord

says no, don’t be

fooled by a handsome

face, an imposing

stature, broad shoulders,

a commanding voice,

all the things that

matter to men. Instead,

look at what I look at,

what I value: the heart.

 

Photograph by Tim Mossholder via Unsplash Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

The Surprising Relevance of Haggai and Malachi – Christine Gordon at CDM Women’s Ministry.

 

Against the City of Noise – Justin Lee at Cluny Journal.

 

The People of His Majesty: Five Marks of a Marveling Church – Fiskebachs Kyrkan at Desiring God.

A grief, observed

After I Samuel 16:1-13 

The chose one has

lost his authority.

The prophet sees

the sin, understands

the reason, but

grieves the loss,

the king who

appears a king,

who bears a king’s

image, the man

anointed by

the prophet

himself. And he

grieves. Then

the questions

come. How long,

man, will you

grieve? How long,

man, do you

grieve for man

I’ve rejected?

Fill your horn

with oil; a new

king is chosen.

 

Photograph by Alexander Grey via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

Psalm 51 – poem by Megan Willome.

 

Bitcoin and Stewardship – Tim Fox at By Faith.

 

What I Saw at School That Made Me Flinch – Becky Ramsey.

 

A Sonnet for St. Matthew’s Day – Malcolm Guite.

From the first

After I Samuel 16:1-13 

From the first moment

of the anointment, the king

is blessed, set apart to lead

and to rule. It doesn’t

happen immediately, only

over time. But from that

moment, the spirit rushes

upon the boy, seizing him

for what he’s been called 

to do, capturing him to rule

and to fight. Despite his youth,

what happens with this boy

teaches the prophet, the one

who anoints, a lesson of life:

man looks at the outward

appearance; God looks

at the heart.

 

Photograph by Mayur Gala via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

Footnote to All Prayers – poem by C.S. Lewis at Kingdom Poets (D.S. Martin).

 

Because He Has Heard – Kyle Borg at Gentle Reformation.

 

#thatsmyking: a sermon for Christ the King Sunday – Dan King at BibleDude. 

 

Hot and Cold – Seth Lewis.

 

Communicating, After a Fall – David Murray at Writing Boots.

The unexpected

After I Samuel 16:1-13 

The choice is made,

the anointed is chosen,

and one by one

the sons pass by.

This one, surely, he

thinks. Of course, it

most be this one. No?

Then it must be

this other one. One

by one, seven sons

pass by. One by one,

sevens sons are

rejected. Do you have

any others, he asks.

Only the youngest,

the one in the hills

tending the sheep.

The boy is summoned;

the boy is chosen and

anointed. The prophet 

shakes his head: 

the ways of the Lord

are not the ways

of man.

 

Photograph by Pawan Sharma via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

Man of War and Grace: The Greatest of Israel’s Kings – David Mathis at Desiring God.

 

12 Phrases Shakespeare Coined That We Still Use Today – Inspiring Quotes.

All changes

After I Samuel 16:1-13 

It seems that all

is well, a surface

of calm and continuity.

But all is changed;

the light has passed

from one to another.

The prophet is told

to go to a new one,

newly anointed,

a mission fraught

with fear, fraught

with uncertainty.

But he goes, down

to Bethlehem,

the city where

it will all begin,

the anointing and

ushering in of

a new king. When 

this prophet is

tasked, this prophet

obeys.

 

Photograph by Niklas Ohlrigge via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

The Hand – poem by Marly Youmans at Kingdom Poets (D.S. Martin).

 

4 Aspects of Being Made in God’s Image – D. Eaton at Fight of Faith.

 

Reversing Babel – poem by Cynthia Erlandson at Society of Classical Poets.

 

Lewis the Prophet – Rhys Laverty at The Critic Magazine.

 

Thomas Onwhyn’s London – Spitalfields Life.

The woman weeps

After Luke 7:24-50 

In the crowd, curious,

she hears him speak,

his words cutting into

her heart, burning

like hot coals, and she

stumbles away, tears

streaming, wandering

the streets, ignoring or

not hearing the usual

taunts and insults

hurled at her. She hears

nothing but his words,

burning words. She sees

him again, at the table

in the house of the Pharisee,

and she defies convention

and enters, kneeling

before the man who spoke

the words. She lets down 

her hair in submission and

love, and anoints his feet

with her tears.

 

Photograph by Stephany Lorena via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

Guilt, Grief, & “Metanoia” – Joseph Mussoneli at The Imaginative Conservative.

 

Taste and See: A Review of Christian Poetry in America Since 1940 – Eric Potter at Front Porch Republic.

 

From The Five Quintets – poem by Micheal O’Siadhall. 

 

Making the most of things: time and trajectory – Andrew Roycroft at Thinking Pastorally.

The sinner and the saint

After Luke 7:36-50 

The woman weeps and anoints

his feet; the man, the host, a man

known to follow the law, likely

congratulates himself for inviting

the man to dine. How freethinking. 

How liberal. How progressive. 

But the guest points out what’s

obvious: that the woman 

of contrition, the woman

of weeping, loves him more

than the man who follows

the law.

 

Photograph by Mahdi Bafande via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Sunday Readings

 

“I Open the Window” – poem by Jane Hirschfield at Literary Hub.

 

The State We’re In – Matthew Hosier at Think Theology.

 

Bible debates, ancient and modern: why did the early church choose only four gospels? – Richard Ostling at Get Religion. 

The greater sin

After Luke 7:36-50

A sinful woman of the city,

a euphemism for prostitution,

weeps and anoints his feet

with oil. The host, a man

of some means who followed

the law, is taken aback,

surprised at how unacceptable

this is for his guest to accept

such an anointing. But he says 

nothing. The anointed one

smiles, understanding

the host’s thought, and answers

aloud with a story, a tale 

of two debtors, one lesser and

one greater, and asks which one 

will love the canceller of the debt 

more?

 

Photograph by Kat J via Unsplash. Used with permission.

Some Friday Readings

 

The Severe Kindness of Jesus: Hearing Mercy in His Words – Jon Bloom at Desiring God.

 

A Scriptural Soldier: A review of The Letters, Writings, and Speeches of Oliver Cromwell – Crawford Gribben at New Criterion.

 

Jesus of the Scars – poem by Edward Shillito at Kingdom Poets (D.S. Martin).

 

History Matters – Joel Kotkin at Quillette.

 

Poetry Club: Coffee Shop Collage – “Do the Shells Still Hear?” – Tweetspeak Poetry.

Anointing and Prayer

Recently at our church’s worship service, a couple told the story of their little boy. When he was 8 ½ months old, he began to throw up anything and everything he was fed – and he threw up for 37 days straight. They eventually learned that he was allergic to a large number of common foods – dairy products and fish, to cite only two – and numerous environmental factors.

They family went on a lengthy journey of doctors, tests and prayers. The couple reached a point where they knew their son was in God’s hands, and no matter what happened, they would find solace, contentment and meaning in that. Not long ago, the couple brought their now three-and-a-half-year-old son to be anointed and prayed over by the pastors and elders. Some may question or scoff at this, but not long afterward the child began to gain weight and thrive.

Last December, I did exactly the same thing.

In June of 2011, I experienced a ruptured disc in my back. At first excruciating, the pain seemed to subside, and things seemed better through July. And then in August, the pain was back, and worse than before. I couldn’t drive for three weeks because of the maximum does of the painkiller I was taking around the clock. Numerous times I was lying flat on the floor, the only comfortable position I could maintain for any length of time.

For the next six months, it was doctors, an MRI, two rounds of cortisone injections directly into my back, physical therapy (two different therapists), using a handicapped parking tag and feeling grateful for it, constant use of a cane to walk, and pain that could only be held at bay with prescription painkillers. The second physical therapist I went to told me later that at first they thought I was beyond normal help and surgery inevitable. I was doing all kinds of exercises, the therapist was manipulating my leg in ways I didn’t think possible, and I was doing traction twice a week. That was my life for about five months.

In December, our pastor preached a sermon on the elders doing anointing and praying. After hearing that, and with the urging of my wife, I asked the pastor for the ceremony. After church one Sunday, several pastors and elders gathered together, anointing my forehead with oil and praying over me.

I didn’t expect a miracle healing, right there on the spot. I understood what this was really about – not so much healing as submitting to God. And no miracle healing happened that day, or the next, or the two or three weeks after that.

A short time later, we consulted with a surgeon, who looked at the MRI and said no surgery was necessary – the ruptured part of the disc was dissolving and healing on it its own, reducing pressure on the nerve and – eventually, he said – reducing the pain.

At the end of the first week of February, I was able to lay the cane aside. I used my handicapped parking sticker until the end of March. About then, I took my first bike ride in nine months. Physical therapy ended in early April, and now I’m working with a personal trainer to strengthen my core and get back into shape. I still get twinges of the pain at times. Occasionally, I can still feel a slight numbness in my left calf and foot. But the pain is almost entirely gone.

I don’t know the desperation and fear of parents with a very sick child. But I do know the desperation and fear of thinking that a medical condition requiring one of the strongest painkillers available might be with me the rest of my life.

I submitted that desperation and fear – and that healing was the real miracle healing.

Please pray for that family at my church. The little boy is doing better, gaining weight and beginning to thrive.

And please pray for Seth and Amber Haines. Their youngest son, Titus, has been in the hospital for some time, with significant feeding and nutrition problems. Seth and Amber have been walking a path filled with anguish, hope, faith, desperation, encouragement, and helplessness, and it’s been hard. So pray for them and for Titus. Information can be found at Seth’s blog and Amber’s blog. Titus is at home now, but the situation is still serious.

Anticipating the Metaphor

A day of stillness, and calm.

The sweet, pervasive smell

signals the expense;

the alabaster jar confirms it.

She pours, lightly, slowly,

the sweetness on my head,

and then my feet,

anticipating the metaphor

of washing the feet, using

oil instead of water,

anticipating the preparation

for the tomb, using

oil instead of spices.

The others ask when;

she answers now.

Painting: Jesus at Bethany, painter and year unknown.