Leaning...

I love browsing around in music stores looking at guitars.  There’s nothing like the cedar-like smell of a brand new one.  If I’d spend as much time practicing my guitar as I did looking at new ones, I’d be a much better player.

One day I was in a local music store looking at and strumming a new guitar.  The salesperson and I fell into conversation.  We agreed that a fine instrument only gets better with age.  The wood cures and mellows out, and the tone just gets richer and better.

Then the guy told me something I’d never heard.  He said that if you took a new guitar and leaned it next to a stereo speaker—with the sound hole facing the speaker—the guitar would cure and mellow out much better.

Never heard that before.  Could be just an old guitar player’s tale.  But it does make sense.  The vibrations of the sound coming from the speaker might have something to do with how the wood of the guitar begins to age.  If I ever buy a new guitar, I’ll certainly take this man’s advice. 

There’s a fairly new guitar maker who uses the wood from old pianos for his instruments.  I hear they are fine instruments.  All those keyboard vibrations, aging and curing the wood, just may have something to do with the superior quality of these guitars made from the old pianos.

It occurs to me that if we leaned a person new to faith up next to an older or wiser person who vibrates with the love of God, the new believer would grow much better.  There are some believers whose faith just seems mellow and rich and vibrant.  Why not lean up against them and listen and learn?  I think the popular way to say it is “mentoring.” 

Against whom are you leaning?  I ask myself that question sometimes. Is there someone you could spend time with who could help you become mellower in your faith?  I think of many from my past who have let me lean on and learn from them. The communal nature of my faith and church gives me the opportunity to lean on many wiser and more mature believers.  Such leaning has enriched my life.

I also wonder about those who might lean on me.  Am I strong enough to hold them up?  Am I the kind of person others might want to learn from or grow by? There have been some humbling and holy times in my life when another has leaned on me.

The refrain of a great old hymn says, “Leaning, leaning, safe and secure from all alarms; leaning, leaning, leaning on the everlasting arms.” I suppose we could all use some eternity to lean on.  There are some everlasting truths that will prop us up when we’re tempted or discouraged or weak.

So, whether it’s aging guitars or maturing persons of faith, the early influence of vibrant sounds helps us make good music.

Dusty Chins...

Lent looms on the horizon.  When I was a pastor, I typically included a confession of sin in the order of worship during Lent.  Recalling that practice, I turned in my concordance to “confession.”  There it was in Leviticus 16.  It’s about the annual Day of Atonement when the priest followed an ancient ritual to atone for a year’s worth of the people’s sinning.

In one detail, Aaron lays his hands upon the head of a live goat and confesses over it all the sins of the people.  The goat, bearing all these sins, is led away to the wilderness of Azazel.  The “scape-goat” carries away the sins of the people. 

 

Poor beast!  Can’t you see it?  A skinny, old goat—his chin making tracks in the sand because his head is so heavy with sins.  The sad creature wanders around in the wilderness until it croaks and along with it a year’s worth of sins.  PETA would protest this literal scape-goating.

Wouldn’t it be nice if getting rid of our sins were that easy?  Find an old goat, load up the sins, slap its backside, and send it and the wrongdoings off to die. And think of the goat breeders!  They’d get rich.  I do believe there are more sins than goats to carry them. 

The fact is, while getting rid of our sins might not be easy, easing the guilt of them is much easier than loading it on a goat’s head.  Changing ways to avoid certain wrongdoings is hard, hard work.  The disciplines of holding my tongue, resisting temptation, easing anger, avoiding lust, diminishing envy, starving gluttony, denying addictions…the list goes on…are disciplines that take time, prayer, and patience.

However, receiving God’s forgiveness for my numerous sins is much easier than rounding up a scapegoat, literal or figurative.  All I need to do is tell God I’m sorry and ask God to forgive me.  When I become aware of or am confronted with my sinning, I can pray to God for mercy and know that my sin will be removed.  As the Psalmist says, it will be removed from me as far as the east if from the west.

We’ve replaced the Leviticus atonement scapegoat. She tempted me, he enticed me, the advertising was too aggressive, I didn’t read the warning label, I didn’t think anyone would notice, I wasn’t responsible at that time, my parents didn’t praise me enough, the devil made me do it …again, the list drags on.  I think I need to work hard to avoid those scapegoats. When we take personal responsibility for our sins, God is slow to anger and quick to forgive.

Is your chin dusty?  The burdens we bear weigh us down and can cause us to drag through our personal wildernesses.  But you know what?  They don’t have to.  If we insist on dragging around our burdens, it’s our own insistence that becomes another form of sinning.  No one is so good at burden-bearing that God’s help is not needed.  No one’s burdens are so heavy that God can’t lift them.  No one’s sin is so bad that God can’t forgive it.

A Little Pre-Lent Fun...

Here's a little ditty I wrote.  I dedicate to all my aging friends.

Shock of Aging  
(Sing to the tune of “Rock of Ages”)

Shock of aging, mercy me!

Need to find a place to pee.

Seems it happens more and more,

Searching for the men’s room door.

Barely made it, just in time.

Ah…the feeling is sublime.

Shock of aging, this will pass.

Damn, I hate this frequent gas.

Eat some roughage is the word.

But this diet is absurd,

‘Cause it makes me swell and bloat,

Then I stink just like a goat.

Shock of aging, cross my heart,

Never, ever, trust a fart.

Thought it had to do with smell.

That’s not it, I’m here to tell.

Trust me; heed this sound advice,

And you’ll keep your undies nice.

Shock of aging, what a thrill!

Men will need a small, blue pill.

Women will support the cause,

Free at last from menopause.

Shock of aging, never fear.

Grant me, Lord, another year.

Lights and Left Hands...

The Gospel reading for February 6^th was from Matthew 5 when Jesus uses salt and light as examples.  His sermon includes, “…let your light shine before others, so that they may see your good works and give glory to your Father in heaven.”  Preach on, Jesus!  Light it up, Lord!

I like to be in the limelight!  The attracting glow of the spotlight looks good on me!  It lights up all my wonderful qualities, and the shadows it creates even hide my dark sides. I like the spotlight.  And sometimes I like being the spotlight itself, so I can shine on others just like me, so we’ll all get noticed.

Oh…well…yes, I realize that God gets the final curtain here, but let me bask a bit in the hard-earned glory.  After all, it was I who visited the sick, gave to the poor, lifted up the broken-hearted, encouraged the weak…and all those other glorious good gestures.  This little light of mine…dang right I’m gonna let it shine!  I like being seen and appreciated and valued.  I like my name in the list of donors for all to read and then to praise my selfless good work of measurable benevolence.  I want the IRS to do an audit-free double-take at my cash contribution itemization. 

No one can view my inner condition, so why not let all gaze upon the outward expressions?  This little light (hell, it ain’t all that little) of mine (it is mine, after all), I’m gonna let it shine.  Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

But then the juxtaposing Jesus turns right around and takes the luster right out of my shining.  He pulls the stage-light plug.  Just as he’s getting wound up in his sermon, he says, “But when you give alms, do not let your left hand know what your right hand is doing” (Matthew 6:3), and he drones on about being secretive about my giving. Try being secretive about cash contributions with the IRS.  Deductions are good; I deserve them.

Since I’m left-handed, I suppose this teaching doesn’t apply to me.  Scripture dodging is so easy!  I write checks with my left hand in full view of my right hand.  Gotcha there, Jesus.  See what happens when you’re prejudiced against us lefties?

Let your light shine so that others may see…  Do not let your right hand know what your right hand is doing.  Make up your mind there, rabbi.  Don’t straddle the fence; it can cause spiritual hernias.  Let it shine, or keep it a secret?  I don’t like to give up the glory.  I would like some encores.  The stage is mine.  I want the final curtain…