Showing posts with label Mercy Me. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mercy Me. Show all posts

Wednesday, March 21, 2018

"but if not..."


"I know You're able,
and I know You can;
save through the fire,
with Your mighty hand;

but even in You don't,
my hope is You alone..."

This week's Bible lesson includes the story of the three Hebrew boys -- Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego -- and their time in the "fiery furnace." I love this story. I love these boys.

Mercy Me's recording of  "Even If"  always brings their story alive for me.

My favorite part of this story happens even before they are tossed into the flames to walk about unsinged - with "the form of the fourth." It happens in a conversation they have with King Nebuchadnezzar who has confronted them about their resistance to bowing down to his idols whenever they hear music -- even at the expense of being tortured and burned in a furnace:


"Is it true, do not ye serve my gods, nor worship the golden image which I have set up?

O, Nebuchadnezzar, we are not careful to answer thee in this matter. If it be so, our God whom we serve is able to deliver us from the burning fiery furnace, and He will deliver us out of thine hand, O king.

But if not..."

Yup, that's the part I love. "But if not..."

Theirs is not a blind belief. It is not a blind self-certainty that says, "God will deliver us from the fire -- we just know he will." No, it is about loving and serving God -- even if that means the immolation of their bodies.  Bodies that never defined their sense of being.

There are two things that have inspired me in a new way from this story. The first is the king's demand that, "at whatever time you hear the sound of the the cornet, flute, harp, sackbut, psaltery, dulcimer, and all kinds of music, ye fall down and worship the golden image that I have set up. And whoso falleth not down shall be cast into the midst of a burning fiery furnace."

Isn't this what false laws about health, finance, relationships, government - threaten every day. At what time you feel pain, fall down and worship: listen to, and heed the advice of - materials laws, or you will be cast into the furnace of death.

At what time you see a smaller number in your bank account, fall down and worship the golden image of false economic forecasts, salary projections, working for "the man," -- or you will be cast into the fire of poverty, hunger, homelessness.

At what time you hear the sound of alarming news, rumors, or opinions of any kind -- bow down to anger and resentment, or you will be vulnerable, thought ridiculous, or cast into a pit of despair that you will never be able to pull yourself out of.

But these arrogant ultimatums have no power behind them. They can only attempt to threaten and bully us into capitulating to their demands. They cannot stop us from loving, from extending our compassion, from trusting in good, from refusing to become bitter or hopeless. There is so much more to this insight -- but I will leave it there.

The second insight has to do with the boys' experience after having refused to bow down.  The story follows that, "Then these men were bound in their coats, their hosen, their hats and their other garments, and were cast into the midst of the burning fiery furnace." And Nebuchadnezzar seeing them walking about in the fire says, "Did we not cast three men into the furnace? Lo, I see four men loose..."

I have written before about this fourth man who is, as Nebuchadnezzar exclaims, "like the Son of God." But today's inspiration is about the men themselves being loosed from their bindings.

Nebuchadnezzar had these these sweet boys cast into the fire - bound. But they are seen walking loose of those bindings. And later we learn that although they are still in the fire -- loosed from the bindings: coats, hosen, hats, and other garments -- those very bindings are not changed, nor do they even carry the smell of fire.

Even the bindings themselves - which were used by the king's men to hold them captive - were spared from the effects of the fire. Because their original purpose was good -- providing cover from sun, protection from the elements, covering their nakedness -- they could not be transformed by hatred and fear, into the trappings of their captors.  The clothing that had given them the freedom to walk in the desert sun protected from exposure, could not suddenly be used for restraint, or contribute to their destruction.

Even true purpose of the fire itself was good and pure -- cooking meals, providing warmth, heating water, giving light. It's goodness could not be bound up in a false garment of pain and destruction -- or have its purpose twisted by fear and hatred.

In her primary work, Science and Health with Key to the Scripture, Mary Baker Eddy writes:"


"The everlasting I am
is not bounded nor compressed
within the narrow limits
of physical humanity..."

Not only were they not bounded by their garments, but neither was their sense of "I am." Their consciousness of Love -- of being, was never bounded nor compressed within the narrow limits of physical humanity. They knew that neither the demands of the king, or the belief that their lives were bound to, or within, bodies, garments, or physical laws -- could bind or restrict their right to love and trust God.

And when the substance of their trust in the "form of the fourth" was apparent, even the king and his princes, governors, captains, and counsellors could actually see that God was with them -- right in the midst of the fire. Nothing that they had done to those boys, could separate them from God's loving presence. They had always known it, now everyone else knew it too.

The last six months have given us ample opportunity to say, "but even if..." Not as a means to an end: "if we say no to the king, we will be lifted out of this fire." But with a sweet sense of "God is here -- with us all -- in the fire." We are loose from the bindings of fear, false laws, and the demanding dictates of personal sense.

I love these boys. I am so grateful for their example of a deep-centered knowing, an unwavering sense that God was with them -- wherever, whenever, whatever -- always.

offered with Love,




Kate








Thursday, December 1, 2011

"You remember him, he's Joey's boy..."

"Lord, I ask that He,
for just this moment,
simply be my child..."

The December wind whipped and swirled around my ankles, as I made my way down the cobbled sidewalk. My destination, the soft golden light that beckoned from just beyond the steamy casement windows set deep within the tall brick building.  I was all too eager to reach the door of the bakery, where a small bell announced my arrival, and the sweet, warm, succulent perfume of rising dough, cinnamon sugar, and vanilla greeted me with promise. 

It didn't take long for me to find the perfect table, position my tea and toast just the right reaching-distance above my books, and lean into the sounds and scents of the morning.  A neighborhood "regular" stood at the counter, coffee mug in hand, proudly introducing his grandson to an old friend.  "You remember him, he's Joey's boy..."   It got me thinking about another Joe, and my friend Kim's Christmas post about him, and his son:

"Celebrating Joseph..."

by
Kim Crooks Korinek

I've been doing a deep dive into the nativity story, my interest being piqued by the movie of that same name, popular some years ago. Prior to this, I don't know that I gave Joseph too much thought. The movie helped me see how crucial his role was as the meek and steadfast protector not only to the expectant Mary, as a birth partner, as a new father; but to a world hungry for hope. It's those qualities of thought that I want to nurture in myself -- they are crucial to our own ushering in of the Christ to our consciousness.

There was an article written in the Christian Science Journal (December 2002) that discussed his character in more detail. (These notes are taken from csdirectory's Bible Study resources). It says of Joseph's role:

"It couldn't have been easy finding out that the woman he was about to marry was mysteriously 'with child.' But he stood by Mary with unquestioning fidelity, perhaps realizing how crucial he would be to the fulfilling of Bible prophecy....

And this is the wonder of Joseph's fidelity: that nearly all he did to nurture/defend the special mother and child entrusted to his care had to be done just this way: in secret, in the humblest of circumstances, and totally without public recognition."

The other wonder about Joseph is how immediate was his recognition and acceptance to the messages of the angel Gabriel. No questions, arguments, or excuses.

It is interesting to remember Jesus' comments about his relationship to God who, at one point referred to God as "Abba" a Hebrew term of endearment meaning the equivalent of "daddy". It makes me wonder if it was Joseph's tenderness and closeness to Jesus that made it easy for Jesus to feel God's tenderness and closeness.

So today, I am grateful for all those 'Josephs' in my life: men and women and children whose meekness, alertness and guardianship of all that is good have led me to see more of the Christ in my life and in others.

copyright Kim Crooks Korinek  2007

I hope you enjoy this recording of "Joseph's Lullaby" by Mercy Me.


Thursday, June 11, 2009

"I Can Only Imagine..."

"...Surrounded by your glory
What will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you Jesus,
Or in awe of you be still?
Will I stand in your presence,
Or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing Alelluja,
Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine
I can only imagine..."

-     Mercy Me

AS much as I love this song, "I Can Only Imagine" by Mercy Me, I don't have to imagine...I know.  I have been surrounded by Christ's glory and my heart has felt it all...awe, the desire to dance, to fall to my knees, and to sing Alelluia...all at once.  I feel it whenever I stop throughout the day and just listen. 

It happened today.  It happened only an hour ago.  I had just put the girls to bed and came downstairs to return calls, respond to emails, and transfer the last load of laundry from the washer to the dryer.  On my way from their bedroom, upstairs, to my desk I decided to stop on the landing and just listen in the silence of the house breathing. 

I sat on the landing and gave Him my heart. 

"What do you have to say to me in this moment dear Father?" I asked.  "I want to remind you that I am the source of your desire to express order and beauty.  My ideas are orderly and clear...and therefore lovely...as Love and Principle are synonymous, you can't express order and not experience beauty." 

This may seem like a pretty simple and obvious message, but for me it was merciful.  As I'd been heading down the stairs I was actually beating myself up about how much I love to make things beautiful.  I was feeling a bit ridiculous about how happy it makes me to put beautiful flowers in vases, make neat stacks of clean laundry, shelve books in patterns of color and width of spine, carefully fold antique quilts collected through the years.

It reminded me of a moment four years ago when a friend brought her sister  by for a visit.  When we'd moved into our home I'd had a stunning wall of custom bookcases built in our great room.  It housed over a hundred books I'd collected as a voracious reader.  Each book was like a good friend.  As I'd finish reading a particular volume, I would write a note to my daughters inside.  The notes would tell them where I was in my life when I'd read the book, the feelings it had elicited, the insights gained, and any conclusions reached.  The books were my way of cataloging my feelings and thoughts so that my daughters might someday know me as I was.  The bookshelf was my way of putting my life in order.  Turning it into something beautiful. 

My friend's sister saw this the minute she walked in the door.  She looked at the wall of books...some of them shelved with spines vertical, some stacked horizontally...and exclaimed, "Your bookshelf is a quilt to you isn't it?  The colors and graphics, widths, depths, and heights of each spine has been placed carefully, hasn't it?  This is your quilt of ideas." 

I wanted to cry.  I felt known. 

So when I stopped on the stairs tonight and God spoke to me of Himself as the source of my love for beauty and order, it reminded me of that moment of being known, and a wave of peace and joy washed over me...refreshing and encouraging me...to be me...to love the me I am.

I don't have to imagine how it will feel to be standing in His presence, enveloped in His love, seen through His eyes and known...and I am singing Alleluiah...when I can speak at all.

I love the way that Mary Baker Eddy describes it:

"When will mankind awake to know their present ownership of all good, and praise and love the spot where God dwells most conspicuously in His reflection of love and leadership?  When will the world waken to the privilege of knowing God, the liberty and glory of His presence..."

You don't have to imagine...just stop and let Him speak to you.

with Love,

Kate
Kate Robertson, CS