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Dirty Laundry...

“…just as Christ loved the church and gave himself up for her to make her holy, cleansing her by the washing with water through the word, and to present her to himself as a radiant church, without stain or wrinkle or any other blemish, but holy and blameless.   Ephesians 5.25b-27 (NIV)

The other day some friends & I were discussing the seemingly mundane tasks of life.  Inevitably, the subject of laundry came up.  The dirtying, the loading, the unloading, the wearing, the dirtying … a never-ending spin cycle, if you will.  I often wonder if my nine-year-old son and I are in some sort of contest to see who can do his part faster.  He usually wins, and I find myself lagging behind as I carry yet another basket of his jeans to the washer. He doesn’t intentionally get his clothes …well, filthy… he’s just being a boy. 

The biblical Old Testament system of worship included a bronze laver used by the priests to wash themselves.  The placement of the laver provides great spiritual insight, even for believers today.  (The Tabernacle/Temple is so rich in its symbolism that we cannot possibly discuss every aspect in one blog any more than we can fit the buffet line at The Golden Corral into one to-go box! It just ain’t happenin’!)  The laver was a giant bronze bowl filled with water placed in between the brazen altar (where animal sacrifices were made) and the Holy Place (where priests would meet with God).  In my mind the significance of the placement of the laver is profound.  It lay … on the journey, so to speak … in between forgiveness and utter holiness.   It was a place of reflection for those who were washing, those who already had been forgiven (via the sacrifice) and were on their way toward wholeness.  It represented a daily cleansing, an on-going purification for the Old Testament chosen people- Israel.  For those of us chosen under the New Testament, our “laver” is the Word, the Bible.  It is by being “washed through the Word” that we experience daily cleansing and purification on our journey toward ultimate perfected holiness.  Just like I wash the dirt (and who knows what else!) from my son’s jeans, the Word washes away the grime of the day – both on and in me.  As I daily spend time in the “water” of God’s Word, His Spirit scrubs my thoughts, my actions, my words until they meet His standard of clean… now or eventually. (Sometimes He uses the gentle cycle, or He just lets me soak for a while.  At other times, it would seem He uses my granny’s lye soap; harsh and abrasive, it gets out even the most stubborn of stains.)  The end goal is for me to be radiantly clean as I stand before Him, without any “stain or wrinkle” … something I may never be able to say about Sam’s jeans.

The Producers...

When my maternal grandmother was 14 years old, she was married.  Thankfully, no one any younger can legally marry ... even in Alabama.  While she may not have been very prepared for being a wife, she was well prepared to run a household.   She could plant a garden and cook or can everything it produced.  Having 8 siblings, she knew a little something about the demands of a busy home.  She could sew a dress from a flour sack and wash it by hand in the creek a half-mile away ... even in winter... with handmade lye soap.   She later gave birth to twins at home and then, as the story goes, mopped the bedroom floor.  She worked hard her whole life; she was a producer ... which allowed her to also be a giver.  She gave away handmade quilts and jam made from strawberries grown in her sideyard.  Every memory I have of my granny ends with a happy heart and a full tummy.  All this reminiscing leads me to a question:  When did we become a consumer culture?     

Consumership is everywhere ... in every arena ... in every aspect of our culture.  We want it all ... no credit, no problem; no money down, no interest until 2099.   We only have to look at the economic status of these United States to see the misery brought on by endless consumption.  Sadly, this mentality extends even into the church. Like bargain-hunters at the outlet mall, church-shoppers compare children's programs and worship music.   Shrewd investors ... looking for minimal outlay with maximum return.  We are more often consumers than producers ... and we, too, are poorer for it.  We are forfeiting the joy of giving and the satisfaction of serving, only to find more and more emptiness.   We hold the church in contempt because it meets neither our needs nor our expectations.   It's time we take responsibility not only for our own spiritual growth but for meeting the needs of those around us as well.  It's time to dig into the Word and avail ourselves to the Spirit, who gives us the power to produce.  Then we'll have something to give even sweeter than Granny's strawberry jam.

The Bird Feeder...

"Consider the ravens: They do not sow or reap, they have no storeroom or barn; yet God feeds them. And how much more valuable you are than birds!"  Luke 12.24 

This Sunday Russ & I taught the 2nd grade class during Children's Worship at Chapel.  Actually, Russ did most of the teaching; I was in charge of crowd control, i.e. gently telling the little girls to stop chit-chatting.  Sam helped out as well by passing out papers, picking up crayons and such.  Today our lesson had us reinforce the main point ... "Jesus cares about the hungry"... by repeating the phrase several times throughout the hour.   Little did I know that I would see that truth played out right before my very eyes!

Since today was the kick-off for the new Sunday School session, we had planned a brunch ... for the adults.  We figured the best to introduce the new classes was with food, perhaps attesting to the influence of the Baptist congregates.  The children were to go to their classes while the grown-ups dined on homemade casseroles and hot coffee.  There was only one problem:  despite the fact that he had eaten breakfast, my growing boy was hungry!    And he was vocal about it.  As I ushered him off to his class, I did feel a little guilty, knowing the mouth-watering spread which awaited me.   The Chaplain's announcement that there would be snacks in the children's classes brought some much needed comfort to this mom's soul.   Having finally worked my way to the coffee pot at the end of a long row of  tables, I began to survey the room for a place to sit.  That's when I saw Sam ... with a plateful of food and a smile on his face.  As I sat down next to him, he explained that his Sunday School teacher was absent and that he was told to go eat brunch with his parents.  "So, Mom... I guess Jesus really does care about the hungry," he said.  I had to agree.