Psalm 119:33-40 Character matters!

 Ezekiel 33:31 So they come to you as people do, they sit before you as My people, and they hear your words, but they do not do them; for with their mouth they show much love, but their hearts pursue their own gain. 

Luke 12:15

And He said to them, “Take heed and beware of covetousness, for one’s life does not consist in the abundance of the things he possesses.”

As believers we follow the two commandments that God, in the Word made flesh, gave to us. We Love God above all and we love and care for our  neighbors and ourselves. In these two the law is fulfilled. In keeping them, we show by our actions, God’s love for the world.  He sent His only begotten Son, that in Him and through His sacrifice, the world could be saved. Through your good deeds show others His agape love for all of His creation. We live in the righteousness of Jesus not our own. Character matters. Carla

Psalm 119:33-40

33 Teach me, O Lord, the way of Your statutes,

And I shall keep it to the end.

34 Give me understanding, and I shall keep Your law;

Indeed, I shall observe it with my whole heart.

35 Make me walk in the path of Your commandments,

For I delight in it.

36 Incline my heart to Your testimonies,

And not to covetousness.

37 Turn away my eyes from looking at worthless things,

And revive me in Your way.

38 Establish Your word to Your servant,

Who is devoted to fearing You.

39 Turn away my reproach which I dread,

For Your judgments are good.

40 Behold, I long for Your precepts;

Revive me in Your righteousness. (NKJV)

The phrase Your way describes the will of God as a path, distinguished from other paths that lead to destruction. God’s path leads to life, and His ways are a reflection of His good character. The NKJV Study Bible

The  psalmist asks Yahweh to change him so that he might keep Yahweh’s directions. The psalmist wants Yahweh to transform him so that he can avoid being seduced by unjust gain (verse 36), continue to worship Yahweh (verse 38), receive protection from attack (verse 39), and receive sustenance (verses 37, 40).

Incline my heart expresses the idea that the heart is wayward and needs help in pursuing what is good. 

The word betsa' for dishonest gain can imply unjust gain and is sometimes associated with bribes.

The psalmist asks God to rescue him so that he can continue to honor Him at a personal level, and perhaps proclaim Him to others. Faithlife Study Bible

Psalm 119:25–27

My soul clings to the dust;

Revive me according to Your word.

I have declared my ways, and You answered me;

Teach me Your statutes…

This is not about who you are supposed to be.

Or who you should be.

This is not about the denial of pain and suffering.

Or the denial of grief and loss and hardship.

Or even the denial of death.

Because grace imbues courage. This is not easy to do in a world that can rattle and unnerve us.

“I want to separate courage and bravery,” Brené Brown writes. “Courage, the original definition of courage, when it first came into the English language, it's from the Latin word cor, meaning heart, and the original definition was to tell the story of who you are with your whole heart... and wholehearted folks had, very simply, the courage to be imperfect. They had the compassion to be kind to themselves first, and then to others. Because as it turns out, we can't practice compassion with other people if we can't treat ourselves kindly. And the last is, they had connection--this was the hard part--as a result of authenticity. They were willing to let go of who they thought they should be in order to be who they were.”

If you voted, thank you. If you have not, please make your way to a ballot box, or voting center.

As parents, we strive to teach our children indispensable values, like kindness, compassion, responsibility, and fairness. And one of the most powerful lessons we can share with them is the importance of participating in our democracy through voting. While voting might seem like an adult responsibility, it plays a significant role in shaping the future that our children will grow up in. Sabbath Moments

“Election Year.”

The sun’s eye closes behind mountains, but 
you lose sleep tonight, uncertain if the garden 
is meant to inevitably survive or die, or if 
it matters — one way or the other — with or 
without you. Maybe it’s not just the garden 
you worry about, but something we call hope 
pitted against despair, something we can only 
speak of by speaking to ourselves about flowers, 
weeds, and hummingbirds; spiders, vines, and 
a garden tended under a constitution of stars 
we must believe in, splayed across our sky.
— Richard Blanco, from “Election Year.” 

Hebrews 4:14-16 Jesus is our high priest in Him we can come boldly to the Throne of Gods’ Mercy and Grace.

 Hebrews  7:19 for the law made nothing perfect; on the other hand, there is the bringing in of a better hope, through which we draw near to God.

In all areas of our life, in prayer and supplication, we draw near to the throne of Grace in Christ Jesus. Greater is Holy Spirit in us than the evil that wants to destroy us. Just as Christ draws near to us in our times of need, we rejoice with others in their good times and we sit in solidarity with them in the bad. Christ within is our hope and our promise of eternity with God. Carla

Hebrews 4:14-16

Seeing then that we have a great High Priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the Son of God, let us hold fast our confession. 15 For we do not have a High Priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but was in all points tempted as we are, yet without sin. 16 Let us therefore come boldly to the throne of grace, that we may obtain mercy and find grace to help in time of need. (NKJV)

Because Jesus already has ascended into heaven and entered into God’s rest, believers can be confident that they, too, will have a share in God’s rest.Because Jesus established His role as high priest by becoming like us (2:17–18), He can understand human struggles.

Our weaknesses likely refers to sickness, imprisonment, and ostracism. Jesus faced the same temptations as people (Matthew 4:3, 6). Suffering believers can look to Jesus, who not only pioneered their faith but endured the cross—the cost of obedience to God (Hebrews 12:2). Jesus remained faithful to the one who appointed Him (Hebrews 3:2). Unlike other priests, Jesus didn’t need to offer sacrifices for His own sins; instead, He offered Himself unblemished to God (7:27; 9:14).

Believers should pray persistently because Jesus empathizes with human weakness (verse 15). He continues to make intercession for those who draw near to God (7:25).

In the Jerusalem temple, only the high priest could enter the most holy place—and only once per year on the Day of Atonement (Leviticus 16; Hebrews 9:7). By offering Himself once for all, Jesus made a way for believers to draw near to God. The throne of grace is the  place of God’s presence, from which grace emanates to His people. God’s throne sits in the heavenly temple—the counterpart of the earthly temple (Hebrews 8:1; Isaiah 6:1; 66:1; Exodus 25:17–22).

Christ is the merciful high priest who mediates on our behalf (2:17). Because of His work, God grants mercy to believers when they sin (Hebrews 8:12). God strengthens His people when they undergo temptation or endure any type of hardship (2:18). Faithlife Study Bible

In the OT the high priest of Israel passed through the courts and veils into the Most Holy Place. Our High Priest has passed through the heavens to the very presence of God, where He sits at God’s right hand (1:3).

Sympathize means “to suffer with” and expresses the feeling of one who has entered into suffering. In all points tempted means Jesus experienced every degree of temptation (2:18).

Come is the same Greek word translated draw near in 10:22. This command strongly contrasts with God’s command at Mt. Sinai: “Do not go up to the mountain or touch its base (Exodus 19:12). Because of Christ’s priestly work, believers can approach God’s presence. The writer of Hebrews is expressing the openness of God’s call in Christ, “Come” (Revelation 22:17). Boldly is the same word that is rendered confidence in 3:6 and means “plainness of speech,” “fearlessness,” or “courage.” Believers should courageously approach God in prayer because His is a throne of grace, and our High Priest sits at His right hand interceding for us. The NKJV Study Bible

Hebrews 2:17–3:1

Therefore, in all things He had to be made like His brethren, that He might be a merciful and faithful High Priest in things pertaining to God, to make propitiation for the sins of the people. For in that He Himself has suffered, being tempted, He is able to aid those who are tempted…

2 Corinthians 5:21

For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.

Hebrews 7:25–26

Therefore He is also able to save to the uttermost those who come to God through Him, since He always lives to make intercession for them.For such a High Priest was fitting for us, who is holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from sinners, and has become higher than the heavens; 

Hebrews  6:20

where the forerunner has entered for us, even Jesus, having become High Priest forever according to the order of Melchizedek.

In the town of Bay St. Louis, Mississippi, there is a church named Lagniappe (“lan-yap”). It is an old Creole word that means “something extra”.

Pastor Jean Larroux explains, “Down here if you go into a seafood shop and order a pound of shrimp and they put in an extra handful, that's the lagniappe. It's something you can't pay for. Something for nothing. Something for free.”

In an area devastated by Hurricane Katrina, Jean began this church, in his words, with people “primed for grace.” Accustomed to teaching church people how to celebrate, Jean was surprised to find himself in a community of people who already knew. Even in the middle of their hardship.

Here's the good part.

This celebration (fullness and wholeness of life from lagniappe) is not predicated on life as we expect it.

The party doesn't start when our fear is gone.

The party doesn't start when our beliefs are unadulterated.

The party doesn’t start when doubt has been appeased.

The party doesn't start when our circumstances make it feasible.

And this I know; if we wait for all that, we miss the gift of grace—the sacrament of the present moment—every time.

The Celtic church gives us a word for such grace moments (doorways). They called them thin places. “A thin place is anywhere our hearts are opened,” writes Marcus Borg. “They are places where the boundary between the two levels becomes very soft, porous, permeable. Thin places are places where the veil momentarily lifts, and we behold (the ‘ahaah of The Divine’) all around us and in us.”

Bottom line? We are grounded.

And no, we do not always (or easily) see the thin places.

This is precisely why I love stories—like Lagniappe. They are reminders, when our scotoma (selective blindness) is lifted. Ah yes, the veil is lifted. And there, with our sacramental imagination flourishing, we see, hear, taste and touch those gifts, in our “unexpected encounters” with the Sacred. With the Holy. With God.

Let us embrace this reminder: on the daily pilgrimage each one of us walks, we are fueled by our inherent value. Enabling us to embrace those places of beauty, creativity, resilience, imagination, courage and humor. And kindness.

Those places of healing.

And places of inspiration.

Thich Nhat Hanh’s reminder, “At any moment, you have a choice, that either leads you closer to your spirit or further away from it.”

And pilgrimage is a great metaphor for what we are on, as a country. We are walking not only to disconnect from our barraged pace of life (amplified by social media), but to make space for presence, and healing, and connectedness, and recovery, on so many levels—with others, with our world, and with ourselves.

Sadly, when life feels catawampus, we forget where we tether our well-being.

So, I will carry these words with me into this week and I invite you to do the same.

What sustains me, and carries me gently through my days?

What heals and restores and inspires?

What empowers me to spill the light I carry?

Lagniappe necessitates a paradigm shift. Without it, we stay stuck in our head. We like to say that we teach or preach grace. Which makes grace something to comprehend, like the answer to a test question.

And we miss the party, the fundamental reality that grace lights up our day, and our world. Regardless of whether we fathom it.

We miss the wakefulness that grace bestows, fueled by two simple words; Thank you.

We miss the power of lagniappe. The something extra? The joy in the ordinary, in dollops of gentleness, kindness, connection, empathy, compassion, generosity, wonder and healing.

Ordinariness opens us up to our humanity (and to our connection to one another), now absorbed in moments of grace. Instead of needing to fix or analyze, we absorb and invest; we notice, and listen, and feel, and love.

We are safe, at home in our skin. An antidote to (in the words of Seneca) “that tossing to and fro of the mind, that can nowhere find rest.”

We are primed for grace. And lagniappe, grace, always spills.

Lagniappe is the bounty from compassion, not predicated on life as we expect it.

It is the replenishment from grace, that doesn't start when our fear is gone.

Or when our beliefs are unadulterated.

Or when our circumstances make it feasible.

Most likely, if we wait for all that, we miss rebirth, comfort, healing, being fed to fullness... and the miracle, every time.

So, I have an idea… This week, be on the lookout for a hand that needs to be held.

And here’s the deal: Without even knowing it, we are lagniappe. We are the hands and feet of grace.

“Be the hand of a hopeful stranger, Little scared but you’re strong enough. Be the light in the dark of this danger, ‘Till the sun comes up.’” Sara Barielles, A Safe Place to Land.  Sabbath Moments

Psalm 140:1-3 Preserve me from violent men. Who plan social unrest in their hearts

 Psalm 71:4 Deliver me, O my God, out of the hand of the wicked,

Out of the hand of the unrighteous and cruel man.

Psalm 59:2 Deliver me from the workers of iniquity,

And save me from bloodthirsty men.

Jesus came to break down and eliminate the veil that separated us from the Father. He  came with shouts of peace, peace to the people on earth. It is finished. In His redemption of the human race He   unleashed the  power of Holy Spirit to battle against Satan and those who follow the way of violence.  Satan knows that his time will end. God never condones cruelty or violence done in His name and He will not be mocked. What evil men do in the dark, will be brought into the light of His truth. Holy Spirit will direct us and help us to be doers of the Word of God made flesh and not just hearers. Carla

Psalm 140:1-3

1 Deliver me, O Lord, from evil men;

Preserve me from violent men,

2 Who plan evil things in their hearts;

They continually gather together for war.

3 They sharpen their tongues like a serpent;

The poison of asps is under their lips. (NKJV)

The psalmist mentions violent people at several points (verses 1, 4, 11), including their words and schemes.

The Hebrew word used here for wars , milchamah, refers literally to close fighting or struggle, like hand-to-hand combat. Here, it seems to refer metaphorically to arguments and social strife.

They sharpen their tongue as sharp as a snake’s The words of the psalmist’s opponents are compared to poison or venom (chemah in Hebrew). Faithlife Study Bible

David cries out to the Lord for deliverance from the wicked, who continually harm the innocent. The words violent men are repeated in verse 4. The word violent describes people who are harsh and ruthless, who plan the destruction of the people. They are purposefully evil and will be satisfied only if they can participate in the destruction of God’s people. But God is always ready to deliver them from their grasp. The NKJV Study Bible

Psalm 17:13

Arise, O LORD,

Confront him, cast him down;

Deliver my life from the wicked with Your sword,

Psalm 18:48

He delivers me from my enemies.

You also lift me up above those who rise against me;

You have delivered me from the violent man.

Psalm 86:14

O God, the proud have risen against me,

And a mob of violent men have sought my life,

And have not set You before them.

While I sit on the back deck, the sun sets over the Kitsap Peninsula (the expanse of land west of Seattle and Puget Sound). The sky, as if batter poured from a pitcher, turns an effluence of slate blue and vermilion. Spires of hemlock are backlit and silhouetted like hand puppets on an immense screen. I stand for some unknown reason, singing, "Jeremiah was a bullfrog. Was a good friend of mine. I never understood a single word he said, But I helped him a-drink his wine. And he always had some mighty fine wine..." at the top of my lungs, and do a little boogie with my black Lab, Conroy, who hasn't the foggiest idea what's come over me but is a sucker for a party and plays along, nonetheless.

I let the moment melt around me before I gain my composure and give myself some sort of reality check: a quiz requiring justification for what I'm feeling and why. And then it hits me. I can't tell a soul about my dance at twilight without coming face-to-face with who I was pretending not to be and the energy it required to maintain that image.

When I lived in Southern California, I spent three days a month at a Benedictine monastery out in the high desert. It was my periodic trek to a place where I could slow down long enough to pay attention. Truth is, I wanted to learn how to be alone with myself and like it, because I wasn't very good at that. And, I wanted to learn how to be alone with God and like it, because I wasn't very good at that, either.

On one visit, a friend asked one of the monks, "What exactly do you do here?"

"We pray," the monk replied simply.

"No, really," my friend persisted. "I mean besides that. What do you really do?"

"It is enough just to pray," the monk told my friend.

"It is enough," I tell my dog standing on the deck absorbing the summer sky, "just to boogie." Just to boogie under the inexplicable marbled canopy of dusk. Just to feel your lungs swell and your heart flutter. Just to cheer the sun as it sets and not give a damn about some need to fight back the tears, standing spellbound in the salty prism for twilight rainbows.

The permission to embrace this moment.

This day.

To hear, and boogie to, the music of sufficiency and grace.

And speaking of grace, let us not forget:

Empathy matters.

Compassion matters.

And community backbone matters.

Sabbath Moments