Who finishes your sentences?

            Cliché says our spouses finish our sentences, especially if we’ve been married a long time. Sometimes our siblings, who have known us since we first spoke “mama” or “dada,” do the job. Maybe our friends, who have heard our stories a hundred times, jump in.

            The other night I had this thought:  God finishes our sentences.

            I was thinking of the recent tragedy of a college senior killed in a car crash. I voiced his name, Ethan, and tried to tell God the anguish of the young man’s family, friends, and classmates. Then I realized, “God already knows.” I remembered Psalm 139:4, “Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely.”

            I remembered Jesus’ words in the Sermon on the Mount, “And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words. Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him” Matthew 6:7 – 8.

            I remembered what the Apostle Paul explained in his letter to the Christians in Rome, “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God”
Romans 8:26 – 27.

            When we pray, God can finish our sentences, even the garbled, wordless ones. But we have to start.

All scripture is quoted from the New International Version.

T is for Too Much Stuff

My young friend Tori commented on two scripture verses about stuff. As soon as I saw her Facebook post, I knew T would stand for Too Much Stuff. Because I have Too Much Stuff. She has given permission to use her words.

Tori wrote:

This verse reminds me of a friend of mine doing an estate sale of her parents’ property. The family was completely crushed under the weight, not only of the grief, but of needing to rid themselves of so many material things. Selling them for almost nothing just to get rid of all of the things her mom had accumulated during a lifetime. 

These are the kinds of things that we labor for, we press forward in working and earning money for items that will be thrown out or sold for pennies when we die. Put your energy into things that have eternal value. Put your energy into loving people, in changing lives. It's the only thing that will still be valued when we come to the end of our time in this life. The way we spent our time, the way we spent our love, and the times we spent our money on others in an act of love.

     Here are the verses that prompted Tori’s insights. I’ve chosen to use the New Living Translation.

We are merely moving shadows, and all our busy rushing ends in nothing. We heap up wealth, not knowing who will spend it. And so, Lord, where do I put my hope? My only hope is in you. Psalm 39:6 – 7, NLT

Don’t store up treasures here on earth, where moths eat them and rust destroys them, and where thieves break in and steal. Store your treasures in heaven, where moths and rust cannot destroy, and thieves do not break in and steal. Wherever your treasure is, there the desires of your heart will also be. Matthew 6:19 – 21, NLT

I made this meme a few months ago with PicMonkey.

Then last week, a friend spoke of the challenge of moving from a big farmhouse into her compact new home. She said she had to face her own materialism. It was a reminder to me that I intended to write about Too Much Stuff.

I’m not a hoarder. (I think.) But I do have a hard time parting with items that have emotional significance for me. Even if I’m never going to use them again. Or have never used them at all. 

I have some useless wedding gifts that I have never used in forty years and will probably not use in the next forty. (Hence the logical designation “useless.”) I don’t even know who gave them to me. Like this set of four glass plates with four glass cups that sit in indentations on the plates. They’re textured, shiny, and iridescent. (Wow, I spelled that right on the first try!) They’re very pretty. But they’re too dainty and the cups don’t hold enough liquid to even start a caffeine buzz. Do you want them? If you’re willing to pay for shipping, I’ll send them to you. If you’re the person who gave them to me, I apologize for never using them. I’m a terrible human being. You don’t have to pay shipping.

I did not take this picture, but these are the exact same plates!

Part of my problem is that when I have gotten rid of things, I’ve regretted it. I had boxes of all the letters and cards my mother ever sent me while I was away at college, then later while I was far away in a foreign nation called Texas, and later still while I was  away in a closer foreign nation called Pennsylvania. I decided to pare down the collection and I probably threw out more letters and cards than I saved. Then my mom up and died of ovarian cancer and I really wish I still had those letters. 

Not all of the Too Much Stuff is mine. Much of the Too Much Stuff belongs to my husband. Too many theology books and Bible commentaries. Too many horns. Too many neckties. Too many belts. Too many shirts. Too many pairs of shoes, but Gubin’s in Northumberland was going out of business, and what dapper man is going to resist buying leather dress shoes for $5 a pair? I have to share a closet with this man.

Most of our Too Much Stuff has very little financial value. I buy my clothes on sale or at thrift stores. I’m sure my wardrobe will be donated back to the thrift stores when my time ends.

I can never have too many Christmas bears.

I realize I have written Too Many Words about Too Much Stuff, and I haven’t solved my problem. In fact, I’ve made things worse. Since I started writing this post—a week ago—I have acquired more stuff. Friday night I bought a print book, something I usually don't do since I have my Kindle. And just a few minutes ago, I returned from a peaceful walk in the October sunshine, but since I resist walking without a destination, I ended up at the Salvation Army. And there I found two bears who wanted to come home and celebrate Christmas at my house with all of the other bears who hibernate in plastic tubs all year.

Tell you what:  When I die—not to be morbid, but death is in my future—put my favorite bear in my coffin. (You know which one I mean, the one I call Lucky because he stays in bed all day.) Bring all the other bears to the church, and after the memorial service, everyone adopt a bear. 

Give it away. Or keep it if you’re a hoarder. Which I’m not. (I think.)

You might be a pagan if…

What is a pagan, anyway? If you don’t like words and word origins as much as I do, you might want to skip a few paragraphs.

Dictionary.com offers these definitions, with the warning that points two, three, and five are disparaging and offensive.

noun

1. one of a people or community observing a polytheistic religion, as the ancient Romans and Greeks: no longer in technical use.

2. Disparaging and Offensive. (in historical contexts) a person who is not a Christian, Jew, or Muslim; a heathen.

3. a follower of any of various contemporary religions that are based on the worship of nature or the Earth; a neopagan.

4. Disparaging and Offensive. an irreligious or hedonistic person.

5. Disparaging and Offensive. an uncivilized or unenlightened person.

(pagan. Dictionary.com. Dictionary.com Unabridged. Random House, Inc. http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/pagan (accessed: October 28, 2014).)

The word pagan appears fourteen times in the NIV New Testament; three of those times, it’s Jesus speaking in what’s commonly called the Sermon on the Mount. (I call it Kingdom Torah, but that’s a blog for another day.)

Jesus said, “If you love those who love you, what reward will you get? Are not even the tax collectors doing that?  And if you greet only your own people, what are you doing more than others? Do not even pagans do that?  Be perfect, therefore, as your heavenly Father is perfect.” Matthew 5:46 – 47

Here the translators used “pagans” to translate telonai, literally tribute collectors. So how come they came right out and said “tax collectors” in verse 46, but used “pagans” in verse 47?

Jesus said, “But when you pray, go into your room, close the door and pray to your Father, who is unseen. Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you.  And when you pray, do not keep on babbling like pagans, for they think they will be heard because of their many words.  Do not be like them, for your Father knows what you need before you ask him”. Matthew 6:6 – 8

Jesus said, “So do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’  For the pagans run after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.” Matthew 6:31 – 33

In both Matthew 6 passages, the translators used “pagans” to translate ethnikos and ethne, which mean “adapted to the genius or customs of a people, peculiar to a people, national suited to the manners or language of foreigners, strange, foreign in the NT savouring of the nature of pagans, alien to the worship of the true God, heathenish of the pagan, the Gentile.” (Love me some British spelling!) (http://www.biblestudytools.com/search/?q=pagan&s=References&rc=LEX&rc2=LEX+GRK) 

Non-word lovers, join us here.

All this to say, in first century Israelite usage, the Jews were “the people” and everybody else was “the peoples.” The outsiders. The goyim of the Old Testament. The pagans.

So what would you have to do for Jesus to call you a pagan? Worship multiple gods? (See definition one.) Worship nature or the Earth? (See definition three.) Be an uncivilized and unenlightened clod? (See definition five) No. None of those.

You might be a pagan if…

• You only love those who love you first.
  
• You only say howdy to your own peeps.
  
• You babble on in your prayers, telling God what he already knows.
  
• You worry about what you’re going to eat, drink, or wear when God has promised to provide all that.
  
• You don’t seek God’s kingdom and righteousness before your own concerns.

You might be a pagan. Don’t get mad at me; I didn’t decide the criteria. Jesus did. 

Besides, I might be a pagan, too.