Image of the Invisible

We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen. We look at this Son and see God's original purpose in everything created. For everything, absolutely everything, above and below, visible and invisible, rank after rank after rank of angels—everything got started in him and finds its purpose in him. He was there before any of it came into existence and holds it all together right up to this moment. And when it comes to the church, he organizes and holds it together, like a head does a body.

He was supreme in the beginning and—leading the resurrection parade—he is supreme in the end. From beginning to end he's there, towering far above everything, everyone. So spacious is he, so roomy, that everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding. Not only that, but all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe—people and things, animals and atoms—get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies, all because of his death, his blood that poured down from the cross.
Colossians 1:15-20, The Message

I love this scripture. Pastor Bill used it tonight in our call to worship; I think I've read it before in The Message, but it must have been a while because reading it tonight felt like the first time. Some of my favorite phrases: "We look at this Son and see the God who cannot be seen"; "absolutely everything...finds its purpose in him"; "everything of God finds its proper place in him without crowding"; "all the broken and dislocated pieces of the universe...get properly fixed and fit together in vibrant harmonies."

In a somewhat ironic circumstance, hope was the focus of tonight's lesson. It was ironic since I felt I could have talked most of the time and shared some experiences that would have mirrored almost everything he said tonight: hope involves patience, waiting, no guarantees, and is in opposition to fear. That last one, opposition to fear, was something that stood out. To hope is to be risky without being fearful; some may call it naive or radical optimism, though it's neither. It's possibly the greatest manifestation of trust. And when reading through Colossians, it's easily seen that everything, including our hopes of things unseen and yet-to-be, are fixed and fit together beautifully in Christ.

The delights of his love

I don't know how many times I've sung "Trust and Obey," but it's probably in the hundreds. But it had been a while until this morning; we sang the 4th verse, which was not one typically sung because the order was almost always 1st, 2nd, and last verse. Anyway, I really like this 4th verse, as well as the simplicity and truth of the chorus.

But we never can prove
the delights of his love
until all on the altar we lay;
for the favor he shows,
and the joy he bestows,
are for those who will trust and obey.
Trust and obey
for there's no other way
to be happy in Jesus
but to trust and obey.

It reminds me of David's words in Psalm 34:8, "Taste and see that the Lord is good." In other words, put it all on the line and watch what God does. Lay it all before him; really let go of whatever you're holding on to. Trust his goodness; obey his lifestyle of love. And experience the overflow of joy.

Delayed

One of the most interesting things I've ever read in USA Today was on the back page of the Sports section more than two years ago. It was a small story, no more than four or five sentences -- a brief recap of information. Dale Shellman, a former minor league baseball player, had just had his tapes accepted by the Baseball Hall of Fame; Shellman wasn't much of a player, but recorded interviews with a great assortment of baseball people (Pete Rose, Mike Schmidt, Ted Williams, and Carlton Fisk, to name a few) during spring training in the mid-80s. What's so interesting is that it took nearly 20 years for the Hall of Fame to accept the tapes. He submitted them, but they said no; they didn't have use for them. I don't know why they wouldn't have wanted them, but they turned him down.

The great thing about that short piece of information was the quote from Shellman. Having finally had his tapes accepted by the Hall, he had this to say, which I've thought about quite a bit:

"Sometimes, life is about being delayed, not denied."

Safari

The new version of Safari (the internet browser I use with my Mac) finally updated so that simple blogger features (like bold, italics, quotes, etc.) can be utilized. A couple of years ago, I thought something had happened with Blogger when I coudn't find those buttons on the Create Post page. I realized later (not too long, though) that the only time I didn't have those as options was when I was using my laptop -- brilliant, I know. Anyway, Safari's updated and I can utilize them once again -- I guess that means I'll be posting a little more regularly, too. :)

Unreasonable and indispensable

As long as matters are really hopeful, hope is a mere flattery or platitude; it is only when everything is hopeless that hope begins to be a strength. Like all the Christian virtues, it is as unreasonable as it is indispensable.

G. K. Chesterton (1874-1936)

I used this quote as a blog post on April 29, 2005, over two and a half years ago. It's odd to think that I've been blogging longer than that and can go back and read things from years ago; it's also pretty cool to go back through and see the fingerprints of God on the circumstances and experiences I was writing about. Entries like the one with the above quote are very interesting to look at now because I feel like those are words that touch me in a much deeper way than when I first read and posted them. I remember thinking that I didn't want to find out about that hopelessness, while at the same time being curious about how hope could be a strength. In some ways I've found out in the time since then. I'm quite intrigued with the idea of the unreasonable being indispensable; and it's been teaching me a lot about trust.

I've written many times in this space about certain things going on with me without really writing about them. Some have been more thinly veiled than others. I've kind of been doing that recently, though most often I've opted not to write at all instead of attempting to share small bits of information in disguise. I think it takes more work to write that way; I'd rather write explicitly. But I can't just yet.

I was reading through some of my old posts last night, looking for instances of these hidden clues about what was happening at the time and how I described it. It was very encouraging to see the instances of hope, trust, and uncertainty present throughout my words, especially with some of the things that are going on now. I'm in constant awe of the Father's faithfulness and I feel very much caught up in his grasp.

And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perserverance; perserverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us.
Romans 5:2-5

And hope does not disappoint us. :)