Aaron answered them, “Take off the gold earrings that your wives, your sons and your daughters are wearing, and bring them to me.” So all the people took off their earrings and brought them to Aaron. He took what they handed him and made it into an idol cast in the shape of a calf, fashioning it with a tool. Then they said, “These are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt.” When Aaron saw this, he built an altar in front of the calf and announced, “Tomorrow there will be a festival to the LORD.” So the next day the people rose early and sacrificed burnt offerings and presented fellowship offerings. Afterward they sat down to eat and drink and got up to indulge in revelry.

Then the LORD said to Moses, “Go down, because your people, whom you brought up out of Egypt, have become corrupt. They have been quick to turn away from what I commanded them and have made themselves an idol cast in the shape of a calf. They have bowed down to it and sacrificed to it and have said, ‘These are your gods, Israel, who brought you up out of Egypt.’ “I have seen these people,” the LORD said to Moses, “and they are a stiff-necked people. Now leave me alone so that my anger may burn against them and that I may destroy them. Then I will make you into a great nation.”

Exodus 32:1-9 (NIV)

Asaiah stirred restlessly. A night of prayer, meditation, and listening had left his soul troubled. Fighting off the agitation of the people was becoming more and more difficult, and his determination to remain present to Yhwh was flagging. He longed for those first experiences of breathing that name… of inhaling that name…

Inhaling deeply, yaaaahhhhhhhhh
Exhaling fully, wheeeehhhhhhhhhh
yaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh
wheeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhh

Asaiah found he could sit for hours, sinking deeper and deeper into peace. He could miss meals, yet sense strength. He could miss sleep, yet experience energy.

yaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh
wheeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhh
yaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhh
wheeeeeeehhhhhhhhhhh

But now the comfort was more fleeting.

He knew when it started. Father Moses trudged up the side of that rugged outcropping, the closest thing to a mountain they’d come across in this barren land. The others had all been a mix of puzzlement and enthusiasm. Father Moses had been summoned by their Great Deliverer. “He might seem a crotchety old coot in the everyday encounters with us,” thought Asaiah, “but who could doubt the strength and resolve he possessed.”

How many days had it been? He’d lost count, but clearly the restlessness was growing. And clearly Brother Aaron understood little of how to work with crowds. Father Moses depended on him, yet had Father Moses over-estimated his skills?

No wonder his prayers were filled with agitation.

He’d been hearing the talk for several days now.

What is he doing up there?
What if he’s not coming back?
Surely he has not abandoned us?

And there were the more brash among them.

Why should he remain the leader?
What if it’s time for a change?

He was confident Father Moses would return, and restore order. He was confident, wasn’t he?

The bright sun made him squint as he slipped out of his tent. As his eyes came in to focus he saw the crowd gathering at the speaking stone. Who was that on top? He smiled. Father Moses is here. But the crowd was clearly agitated. As he moved closer his heart fell. Not Moses, but Aaron was calling the people together. He was in earshot before the speech began,

My dear Children of the One True God. You have been speaking of your fear and your impatience for days now. I have heard you. Father Moses has been away from us for more days now than we can count. We have trusted the One True God to bring us this far, and so we must listen for His guidance.

Father Moses asked me to lead in his stead, and so I have meditated and prayed, seeking such guidance. What came to me is that we can trust the plan of our One True God, but this does not mean that a sinful creation cannot challenge that plan. It has come to me that Father Moses may not be returning. With every day this possibility appears more certain.

If indeed Moses will not be returning, it would surely not be the will of our God that we sit like sheep. It would be right for us seek further guidance. And it would be right for us demonstrate our continued trust in our God. And what greater demonstration of trust than to offer our most precious possessions. We have all clung to trinkets of gold from the land of the cursed Egyptians. What better time than now to sacrifice them to our One True God?

Asaiah was shocked. He could see the fire that had been built a safe distance away, at the base of rock that had been hollowed out. As he moved closer he began to recognize the men tending the fire, and there, off too the side, were Ethan and Tobiah. The two had risen to whatever counted for prominence in Egypt as skilled workers of metal.

And so dear children of the One True God, bring now the cursed gold you have harbored. Let it be used as a sacrifice. Let us demonstrate our faith as we plead for further guidance…

NOOOOOOOOOO!

NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

The people turned towards the shout, and saw an old man moving towards the speaking stone with the vigor of a young man.

It hit him like a lightening bolt. Aaron’s hypnotic words. The fire and the craftsman. The request for gold.

NOOOOOOO,
I SAY NOOOOOOOOOO

Asaiah was now at the speaking stone. He pointed a crooked finger at the man on top. He shouted,

YOU SPEAK NOT FROM PEACE OR FAITH OR WISDOM. YOU SPEAK FROM FEAR AND FROM PRIDE. YOU MANIPULATE A FRIGHTENED PEOPLE IN ORDER TO GRASP POWER. YOU HAVE BEEN A TRUSTED COMPANION TO FATHER MOSES, BUT YOU POSSESS NEITHER HIS SKILLS TO LEAD, NOR THE BLESSING OF THE ONE TRUE GOD TO TAKE SUCH A ROLE.

Asaiah struggled to climb the speaking stone, but found that gentle hands were lifting him up. He scrambled to his feet and turned to face the people.

I SPENT LAST NIGHT IN TROUBLED PRAYER, TRYING TO LISTEN THROUGH MY AGITATION. I KEPT HEARING A WHISPER, “TRUST ME.” TO WHICH I COULD ONLY OFFER, “I TRUST YOU.” AGAIN, I HEARD, “TRUST ME.” TO WHICH I RESPONDED, “I TRUST YOU.” IMAGINE MY DISTRESS WHEN AGAIN I HEARD THE WHISPER, “TRUST ME.”

I NOW KNOW THAT WAS NOT A MESSAGE ONLY FOR ME, BUT A MESSAGE FOR US ALL. THE ONE TRUE GOD IS PLEADING, “TRUST ME.”

COULD IT BE THAT ANXIETY IS CLOUDING YOUR SOULS? WE HAVE ALL SLOWLY MOVED FROM CONFIDENCE WHEN FATHER MOSES FIRST LEFT, TOWARDS PUZZLEMENT, AND NOW INTO DESPAIR. NONE OF US LISTEN WELL THROUGH THE FOG OF DESPAIR.

THIS IS A TIME TO SIT. THIS IS A TIME TO WAIT.

HOW MANY OF YOU KNOW THE PAIN OF IMPATIENT ACTION? HOW MANY OF YOU HAVE WRESTLED WITH REGRET BECAUSE YOU LEPT TOWARD A FRANTIC PLAN THAT ONLY SERVED TO CREATE GREATER PAIN?

A WISE MAN ONCE SAID, “WHEN YOU BELIEVE YOU HAVE NO CHOICE BUT TO TAKE ACTION, DON’T!” DO NOT BE DRIVEN BY FEAR AND IMPATIENCE.

THIS IS A TIME TO SIT. THIS IS A TIME TO WAIT.

Asaiah’s passion blinded him to the shifting mood of the crowd. As he knew the moment for his own silence had arrived, he gazed at the people. He began to see that a few of the older men were now cross-legged on the ground. Their families lowering themselves to sit with them. The younger men began to do likewise. A peace was settling across the gathering as all stooped toward the ground.

Asaiah raised his hands to the heavens, and began to sing the words they all knew.

I will sing to the LORD, for he is highly exalted.
Both horse and driver he has hurled into the sea.
The LORD is my strength and my defense, he has become my salvation.
He is my God, and I will praise him, my father’s God, and I will exalt him.

All were singing by the final stanza, and the melody was filled with many harmonies,

You will bring them in and plant them on the mountain of your inheritance—
the place, LORD, you made for your dwelling, the sanctuary, Lord, your hands established.
The LORD reigns for ever and ever.

____________________

What if? What if a wise seeker had intuited how anxiety was over-taking the Children of Israel? What if such a seeker had found the words to confront that anxiety? What if?

What if you and I, when feeling anxiety and despair, could hear such a voice?

People unusually find their way to my office after they’ve already been lured by Aaron, the voice of anxiety and desperation. They’ve often made a series of anxious decisions, often lured by idols that promise comfort or deliverance. They’ve not known the wise voice that speaks hard truth: Sit still… wait… listen.

That voice is within you.

• 10 Crazy Relationship Rules    A course on marriage and relationships at St. Paul’s Episcopal during the Sunday School hour.  Begins January 8.
• Holistic Treatment of Borderline Personality Disorder     Spring Conference, Friday March 9, at the New Hillcrest Hospital Auditorium.

Parenting with Love and Logic

• Taught by Wes Eades
• At First Presbyterian Church, Waco, Texas (1100 Austin Avenue: The class will be in the Fellowship Classroom. Park in the lot at the corner of 11^th and Franklin, and come in the entrance under the portico. The classroom will be immediately on the right.)
• January 15, 2012 – February 26th (6 sessions, skipping SuperBowl Sunday, February 5)
• 5:00 p.m. – 6:30 p.m
• Cost: $5/person per session

I have enjoyed teaching the principles of Love and Logic Parenting for many years.  In this six week course I will be providing an overview of the core principles, along with an exploration of how these principles shape the spiritual formation of both parents and children.  The course will include some lecture, but will focus on the practical challenges in parenting that you are currently facing.  You will be encouraged to develop “experiments” based on the L&L model, and encouraged to share whatever the results with the class.  I am very transparent regarding my own successes and failures in parenting.  My wife and 22 year old daughter will attend one of the classes to help us explore how parenting effects our marriages, and our relationships with our kids as they move into adulthood.

The developers of Love and Logic, Dr. Foster Cline and Dr. Jim Fay, have written a general book on their approach, along with a second book which is targeted at parenting teens.  My goal is to approach the material so that it will be relevant regardless of the ages of your kiddos.  I will have copies of both books available at a cost of $20.  You can probably pick up a copy locally as well.

You don’t have to make a reservation, but if you are planning to come, it will be helpful to know…

Where: St. Paul’s Episcopal Church (Waco, TX)

When: Sundays, beginning January 8, 10:00  – 10:45 a.m.

St. Paul’s Episcopal Church has graciously invited me to spend a few more weeks teaching during the Sunday School hour.  After having spent some wonderful time discussing parenting with these fine folks on Sunday morning, I’ll now be turning my attention to marriage, and relationships in general.  St. Paul’s welcome all members of theWaco community to participate.

Shortly after Letterman popularized his Top Ten lists, books and magazine articles began to follow suit.  You can now find lists of the top ten books of top ten lists.

Of course, I could never admit that I was just following the crowd, and the evidence is sketchy that Letterman actually got the idea from me, so I’ll just have to present my list and let you think what you will.

Here it is:

10. If you love me, you’ll read my mind.

9.  It is your job to make me happy.

8.  Its your job to broker my relationship with other people (especially with YOUR family).

7.  Whenever a stalemate has been reached, the next person to speak loses.

6.  If I don’t get one, then you shouldn’t get one.

5.  Affection and/or sex will solve anything.

4.  We must be joined at the hip.

3.  Nothing can be resolved until blame has been properly assigned.

2.  If you are different from me, you are either wrong, stupid, or insane.

1.  If I’m not sure I can get love, then it’s okay to go for control.

You are welcome to join me in unpacking these “rules” over the next several weeks, beginning January 8.

I was sitting in my psychiatrist’s office in the aftermath of losing my job, head in hands, and moaning,

“What am I going to do?  WHAT am I going to do?  I’ve been humiliated.  I’m a laughingstock.  Everyone will know I messed up.  All my work… down the drain.  What are people going to think of me?  I’m so embarrassed… I’m so ashamed.”

Bill sat quietly for a moment, and then replied,

“Wes, I’m not sure how to tell you this, but not all that many people around here even know who you are.”

Ice water, right in the face. I smiled,

“That was good.”

In Honor of Maureen by Alison Urbank

Do not forget to entertain strangers, for by so doing some people have entertained angels without knowing it (Hebrews 13:2).

A very striking woman suddenly appeared one day at the door of my childhood home, fresh from Beverly Hills, dripping in sophistication and elegance. She was introduced as Maureen, an interior decorator. She was hired by my mother to do for our late ’50s 3-bedroom suburban Los Angeles tract home the things that she (my mother) imagined were important.

In some ways this woman from the north was a breath of fresh air. In others she was overbearing and opinionated, and therefore intimidating, but in the end she did many lovely and sometimes astonishing things for our internal environment. My only problem with the outcome was that my new bedroom furnishings did not seem very much like me. I made the best of the situation, learned to take care of the new things I had been given, and enjoyed the opportunity to start fresh. After all, I had reached the double-digit years of my youth by then and it was time to move on from childish things.

In the midst of Maureen’s comings and goings during the relatively brief period of time she was putting her touch on our household, she brought my sister and me each a gift. I don’t remember the occasion, or even if there was one, except that we were both called into the living room to sit and receive.

I still remember the moment I opened the tidy little box and saw a clear sphere with a small dot inside on the end of a gold chain. As I silently marveled at its unique simplicity, Maureen began to tell the story of the mustard seed in words of her own that I can no longer recall. I only remember the moment seemed full of light and love. I promptly put the necklace on and I did not take it off for a long, long time.

Maureen disappeared from my life as quickly as she came. Decades later, many years after I became a Christian at mid-life, I thought of Maureen’s gift one day and suddenly understood it for the loving witness that it was. I was astonished and full of wonder at the memory. The entire focus of the household relationship with his woman had been on worldly trappings; the true purpose of her intervention had been to plant a seed. Whether or not Maureen knew the full reach of her interior decorating skills is unknown. But God knew, and he equipped her and used her to help woo me to Him, for sure.

Thank you, Maureen, wherever you are.

Alison Urbank, PhD, is a psychotherapist who is a breath of fresh air in that giant un-walled mental institution known as Southern California.

In Honor of Miriam by Patty Williams

People like to joke about mothers-in-law, but mine is my balcony person.  Miriam Caldwell Williams was 50 years old when she was suddenly called home to our Lord.  I was still a young woman, married to her son, Ralph, when she left us.

Miriam was a beautiful Christian example both inside and out.  As I began dating her son, she drew me in to their family.  She insisted on my presence at dinner each evening.   She always invited me to church with them.

In the few short years we were blessed to have her I never heard Miriam utter a profane word.  She was a registered nurse, and when I was going through 22 hours of hard labor she was by my bedside.  Family and friends had gathered right outside the labor room.  I won’t say that I always watched my language as carefully as Miriam, but I certainly would have never cussed in front of her!  However, when a woman in pain has enough drugs in her to knock out a small elephant, she isn’t always a picture of sweetness.

A gossipy relative came in to check on me and returned to the audience in the hall to announce there was a stream of “OH SHITS!” coming from the bed.  My very proper mother-in-law went to the door and declared, “If ever there’s a time for a young woman  to be cussing, NOW is that time!  All of you should just shut-up!”

When that child first entered the world, we had no rocking chair.  That is, until Miriam had a rocking recliner delivered to our front door.  Over the next 10 months, when she came for a visit, I would open the pantry door and find at least one shelf stacked with jars of baby food.  Miriam was our angel of strained peas and sweet potatoes.

Miriam was the rock of her family, and it never dawned on me that my time with her would be so brief.  I never had the chance to draw deeply from the well of her cooking skills and homemaking tricks, nor from the wisdom gained from her gracious love for our Lord.

When I think of her I am reminded just how often we should tell our love ones what they mean to us.  Thank you, Miriam, for filling an empty place in me with the warmth of love and acceptance.

Patty Williams is a salt-of-the-earth country woman from Lockhart, Texas.  She is married to Ralph, who has a few pet cows and calls himself a rancher.

My Dad was always up there on the balcony, and still is.  He occupies the first balcony to the right of the pearly gates.

As a teen I knew better than to play the ask-one-parent-and-then-ask-the-other-if-you-don’t-like-the-answer game. My mother would almost automatically say “No.” But my Dad, when I would ask permission to do anything at all, he never said “No.” He would say, “I know you’ll do the right thing.”

From Cloak Room to Balcony  by Susan Cowley

In the still of a cricket-drone summer day in Oklahoma City, my Aunt Thelma moved from the cloak room, as it were, to an enduring role as my Balcony Person. She was sturdy stock, “a good scout,” my Dad, her brother, might have called her.

Aunt Thelma was a warm and steady fixture in my life as a child and on the trips we made to visit her in an old tri-level boarding house she ran, I joyed in her simple love most of all.

But that day came in 1959 when her gentle way turned to decisive determination, and I still stand in awe by the size of the crowd that gathered as though witnesses.

Always entertained by my own imaginary play, I was probably the last on the block to hear the commotion. Yet as Aunt Thelma strode from the house wearing a fixed jaw I had never seen, I knew a commanding moment was near.

As I followed, I saw the crowd of neighbors and bystanders and heard the roar of what I came to learn was the foul cursing of a drunkard. I watched as my Aunt Thelma parted the waters of humanity by the sheer majesty of her determined approach. She walked right up to the man’s weathered house, barged right through the open front door, and emerged holding the hand of a beaten teenage girl who she took home, binding her wounds of both flesh and a broken spirit.

I am certain I stopped breathing. It was the slow motion moment when I could not imagine that my Aunt Thelma, singular among all the men simply gawking, took the matter completely in hand, setting aside all fear to right a wrong in progress.

She is in the balcony, because as I watched from the orchestra seats, I learned for the first time that a woman can be both gentle and strong, quiet yet courageous. I have often recalled that moment and it has heartened me with boldness these past 21 years as we of CrossTies Ecumenical Church have served one of Waco’s deepest pockets of poverty and violence.

Along that journey, I was once asked, “You don’t go down there at night alone, do you?” “Sometimes,” I said, “because Jesus didn’t call me to be safe, but to be obedient.” I owe at least that much to Aunt Thelma.

Susan Cowley, seeking to live eucharisteo in every day while owning a marketing firm (The Cowley Group), writing copy, and serving as Psalmist and Spiritual Director of CrossTies Ecumenical Church. She is cofounder of CrossTies’ Talitha Koum mental health therapeutic nursery in South Waco, Texas.

Brooks babble joyfully. Rivers, like the mighty Mississippi, are all quietness and grandeur. I can enjoy a babbling brook, but the other speaks to me of what most enriches life. Nothing has ever made that as real to me as when, on summer day almost a half century ago, my cousin stood quietly beside me on the river bank.

Joel, the Old Testament prophet

I was raised Southern Baptist in the Texas Panhandle.  My buddies and I were always mystified by the weird stuff them semi-Christian, idolatrous Catholics were up to.  Don’t get me wrong, I loved the fish sticks in the school cafeteria every Friday, but every now and again the handful of Catholic kids in class upped the weirdness a bit.  Lent was one of those times.  My friend Brian would show up with a smudge on his head, and start refusing to eat dessert.

Now I find myself a part of a Baptist congregation (non-Southern variety) that follows the seasons of the church year.  I’ve come to understand and value the symbols of this ancient tradition, and the power they have to bind millions of diverse Christians together.

But sadly, I must admit that I’m a cynic when it comes to Lent.  I’ve played the “game” over the years, giving up sugar, or meat, or alcohol.  I can’t say that it’s ever meant much to me.  This year I’d decided to give up giving things up.

Then, a friend sent me a link to an essay by Sister Joan Chittister, along with these comments:

Sort of takes the contest and “anything you can give up I can give up better” crap out of Lent. All of the “what are you giving up?” talk makes my skin crawl. It’s like praying in the marketplace. Do it or don’t do it. Make a personal commitment to God. You owe no one else anything. To discuss it, lessens it. When you talk about it, it becomes about you. Talk about your experience afterward, when you have something to share. That’s where the power is. How did the sacrifice change you? Or, how did failing change you? Did you experience Easter differently because of the change you made for Lent?

There is real suffering in the world. I for one, don’t want to hear how much my friends miss red meat, chocolate or soda!

Hmmmmm…  I’m still not sure what, if anything, I’m going to commit to this lenten season.  But my friend has convinced me that, at least for me, it’s important that I just keep it to myself.

Wes

P.S.  You can read Sister Joan’s essay here.