Givens Creative

Life at the intersection of faith, nature, history and art

faith

Today’s Word: Exile

· · Leave a Comment

A time of exile. SJG photo.

Over the past week I’ve read and heard several times now the story in Matthew’s gospel about Joseph and Mary’s exile into Egypt following the birth of Jesus. This is not a story to which we usually pay much attention. It’s a post-Christmas, dark tale about threats of death and the murder of innocent children, and who wants to spend much time thinking about that?

But here’s what I’ve found. There’s a message of hope for us in this story, for we have all experienced exile at one time or another in our lives. Maybe you’re there right now. It could be an exile from God or maybe from a friend or family member. Maybe it’s an exile from yourself, a time of running away from what you think might hurt you. But whatever form it takes, exile can be a time of great spiritual growth if we leave ourselves open to hearing the voice of God in the wilderness. Joseph, a much under-appreciated character in the life of Jesus, is the hero of this story because he was willing to listen for and act upon the voice of God. “Take Mary and Jesus to Egypt, Joseph,” God says. And Joseph does. “Time to come back to Judea,” God says, and Joseph heads back to Israel. “On second thought,” God says, “better go to Galilee,” and Joseph settles his family in Nazareth. Listen. Obey. Act.

This is the call to a life of active contemplation, to a life of listening for the voice of God and actually expecting to hear something. Not a sound, perhaps, but nevertheless a knowing, a sense of God’s presence and direction. It is a life of staying the course and trusting the journey because something tells you it’s right. It’s a life of acting on the still small voice inside of us.

Ask yourself in silence: Am I trusting the journey I am on? Am I even aware of the journey?

Today’s Word: Vision

· · 1 Comment

Walking path on Ellis Island (West Alton, Mo) on the Missouri River. SJG photo.

Memo to the Church: Beginning next Sunday, we will have a new vision statement: “Do justice, love goodness and walk humbly with your God.” Thanks to Micah and the mission and vision committee for putting in all the hard work and wordsmithing. I think this has a nice ring to it.

Here’s the only problem I see with adopting this motto: Far too many of you already think you’re doing these three things and, well, sorry but it just ain’t so. Let’s take a look at what we might look like as church if we really take these words to heart.

Do justice: We’ve got to start seeing the people around us and responding more fully to their needs. We’ve got to be more inviting and open to those who don’t look like us, live like us, sound like us or drive the same kinds of cars. We’ve got to look outside of our zip codes and tax brackets if we want to find the Christ that we sing about so joyously. (But thanks to the choir!)

Love goodness: To begin, we’ve got to be willing to redefine what we mean by goodness. It is not what we own, where we went to college (or high school…St. Louis joke), where we work or how much we earn. It is not even how nice we are to each other. It is what we ARE deep inside, at that place where God touches us and makes us come alive. If we were to see and appreciate that place in everyone, we would be surrounded by goodness.

Walk humbly with your God: To have true humility in this world is tough, for everything around us tends to reward our pride, accomplishments and self interest. To walk humbly means to give that up, to empty ourselves and throw ourselves into the lap of a waiting God like helpless children. Give it a shot.

Please pick up a copy of the new statement on your way out of church today and memorize it. There will be a test.

Peace,

Jesus

Ask yourself in silence: What do I need to change about myself in order to help change the church?

Today’s Word: Connection

· · 1 Comment

The Adoration of the Shepherds, Mattia Preti, 1613-1699.

This event we are about to celebrate we believe to be genuine — a historic moment in time filled with real people and exact places (even if we cannot pinpoint those exact places 2,000 years later). This story of Bethlehem, we believe, is authentic, as filled with truth as it is with the pungent smells of a stable. But why this moment in this time? How and why could this be? The Christmas story is both human and divine, and the divine lies in the “why” of the story. If we cannot fully understand the why, perhaps we can at least kneel in its presence, recognizing the holy — somehow — when we see it.

+ + +

“Who’s there?” he calls out, hearing me trip on a loose stone at the side of the stable.

I step into the light of the fire the man has made. They both look at me and smile, for I am just a child and no threat. I am speechless.

“Come closer,” she says, “and see my baby. Have you ever seen a new-born baby?”

I nod. “My little sister,” I say.

“Ah, well this one’s a boy,” the man says. “Just like you. You were like this once.”

I come closer, and as the flames of the fire flicker and dart across their faces, I see the child, his eyes still wet, glistening and open wide, seemingly taking me in just as I am taking him in. He holds my gaze, and I have this sense of connection, as if I know him or need to, even though that makes no sense even to my 12-year-old sense of reason. I can’t move or speak. The old folks in the temple speak of awe, and I realize this might be what they’re talking about.

It’s like watching the sun set over the hills on the outside of town where I tend the sheep with my father and uncles. I don’t know where it goes every night but I know it will rise again in the morning, and I am strangely moved by its beauty, by its ever-different colors and movement. It’s like the splash of cold water on my face or down my throat, more refreshing and life giving than I could ever imagine when I thirst for it. There’s something beyond the ordinary and obvious here.

It’s just the sun. Just a cup of water. Just a baby. But I am at once both afraid and at ease, confused and clarified. I feel as if I belong to this child and he belongs to me, like there is a strand of fine thread, like a spider’s silk, that joins us — so light that it cannot be seen and so strong it can never be broken. And although I can’t say exactly why, I kneel and cry.

Ask yourself in silence: What connects you to God? To Jesus? How can you make this Christmas truly a time to reconnect?

A Song for the Season: A Simple Gift

· · Leave a Comment

Winter night sky near Springfield, Mo. SJG photo.

Another song from my Christmas CD, “Home Again with You,” produced a few years back with my friends in the band Nathanael’s Creed. Written years ago when collaborator Jim Russell and I played with the Christian folk group Ephphatha, this song was the theme for many of our advent programs back in the 90s.  It’s still one of my favorite original songs and the meaning of the lyrics still resonates deeply this time of year, especially these lines:

Are there those not afraid to live by their faith?
Are there gifts as simple as love?

For this recording, Pat Dillender’s exquisite percussion work drives the song and gives it a drive and Latin feel not present in the original version. So thanks for that, Skitch.

To listen, click here: A Simple Gift

A Simple Gift
Words by Steve Givens and Jim Russell
© 2003 Potter’s Mark Music (BMI)
Music by Jim Russell © 2003

The lights of the City of David shine
As a single star pierces the night.
Restless within her a miracle waits
Incarnation of holiest light.

But how can this be? How can she believe?
That an angel came down from above?
Are there gifts so precious they must be passed on?
Are there gifts as simple as love?

Temple musicians in Malaysia. SJG photo.

She rests her head on the arm of this man
Who stood by her though his heart was torn.
Steadfast he searches for shelter and warmth
Soon the light of the world will be born.

But how can this be? How can he believe?
That an angel came down from above?
Are there those not afraid to live by their faith?
Are there gifts as simple as love?

The fear of her labor is now washed away
By the joy of her baby’s first breath.
Deep in the hope of this new life for all
Is a power to rule over death.

But how can this be? And who will believe?
Why the angels now sing from above?
She looks on the face of her child and her God,
He’s a gift as simple as love;

As simple as love.

The players
Lead vocals: Steve Givens
Guitar: Jim Russell
Percussion: Pat Dillender
Bass: Gerry Kasper
*Not sure where Phil Cooper was on this one…either sitting it out or shaking an egg…(or shaking one out and sitting on an egg?)

[If you’re looking for stocking stuffers, the CDs are available for $15, which includes postage and handling. Drop me an email or send a check to: Steve Givens, 51 High Valley Dr., Chesterfield, Mo. 63017.]

Today’s Word: Yes

· · 1 Comment

The Annunciation, by Henry Ossawa Tanner (Wiki Commons)

The Annunciation

(Found in Luke 1:26-39, the Annunciation is the Christian celebration of the announcement by the angel Gabriel to the Virgin Mary that she would conceive and become the mother of Jesus.)

The announcement, the call to her in the midst of sleep,
is the very beginning of the story,
the pinhole of opportunity,
the invitation to grace
the way opening to way.

It is God saying:
“Yes, this is what we will do. We will begin here,
with this one, this girl.
This poor girl from the middle of nowhere.
This will catch them off guard.
Through her we will look like the rest of them,
work and walk among them, be with them,
point them in our direction before they realize it.

This will be, for many, the path of greatest resistance,
not an easy and gentle way,
but a birth and rebirth offered for them,
a way marked by labor and blood,
things unknown to us,
yet necessary for the work we must do in them.
Yes, this is what we will do.
Yes.”

This offer of grace and salvation now extends to us,
The sons and daughters of creation,
and it asks for an answer.
It requires from us the same yes she gave,
Sitting on a rumpled bed
In the middle of the night,
Inviting in the light,
Saying yes.

Ask yourself in silence: To what have I said yes to God? To what have I said no?

Reach out to connect with Steve Send an E-mail