Desolation (January 24, 2012)

Published on by Adam ThomasLeave a comment

…Opening To…

It is when we notice the dirt that God is most present in us: it is the very sign of His presence. (C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain)

…Listening In…

I have sunk into deep mud. My feet can’t touch the bottom! I have entered deep water; the flood has swept me up. I am tired of crying. My throat is hoarse. My eyes are exhausted with waiting for my God. (Psalm 69:2-3; context)

…Filling Up…

Usually, people want the bad news first, so we’ll begin with the emptiness of desolation. Desolation is the nuclear winter of the soul. Desolation makes the soul a wasteland – arid, parched, rendered uninhabitable by events in the life of the very person who must inhabit the internal desert.

Sometimes, we bring desolation on ourselves: a man cheats on his wife, and she doesn’t even catch him. He expects to feel the thrill of adventure, of subterfuge. Instead, he feels the pain of a broken promise. He doesn’t realize he is a moral person until he fails to live up to his own unexamined values. And his failure eats away at his soul.

Sometimes, external events bring desolation upon us: the pregnancy has been difficult, but the doctors have managed to stay positive. If she can hold on just a few more weeks…but the contractions start, and she delivers a tiny life. The infant’s underdeveloped lungs struggle for breath. He lives for four days, and her soul dies with him.

Sometimes, desolation happens not in these large events but in the accumulation of small frustrations and disappointments. They hired the other guy. The repair cost more than the estimate. Another D-minus. Chicken for dinner – again. Each frustration erodes the soil of the soul, nutrients leach out, and eventually only the wasteland remains.

In these times of desolation, we do not look for the presence of God because we think God can’t possibly be there. We abandon ourselves to despair, so we expect that God has abandoned us too. We may even stop believing in God, while paradoxically blaming God for our situations. When we are desolate, we don’t live: we merely subsist. And we fail to realize that our very ability to survive through the torment of despair is a manifestation of God’s awesome power and love.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you are near me even when I am far from you. Help me never to forget that, even when I can no longer see your presence. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, and wherever I am – whether in the garden or the wasteland – I pray that you help me see your presence in my life.

Two Categories (January 23, 2012)

Published on by Adam ThomasLeave a comment

…Opening To…

It is when we notice the dirt that God is most present in us: it is the very sign of His presence. (C.S. Lewis, The Problem of Pain)

…Listening In…

Look at me! Answer me, LORD my God! Restore sight to my eyes! Otherwise, I’ll sleep the sleep of death, and my enemy will say, “I won!” My foes will rejoice over my downfall. But I have trusted in your faithful love. My heart will rejoice in your salvation. (Psalm 13:3-5; context)

…Filling Up…

They say that every therapist should be in therapy. Likewise, every priest should participate in spiritual direction. Without trained professionals helping us priests notice God’s movement in our lives, one of two things happens. We either forget to rely on God, thus emptying ourselves of all nourishment even though a feast is perpetually spread before us. Or we decide we don’t need to rely on God, because we are doing just fine on our own (thank you very much!) and the same starvation results. We priests are a rather thick bunch, usually quite stubborn when faced with the Almighty, because the Creator-of-All-That-Is rarely seems to fit the predictions of our seminary studies.

When I was in seminary, my spiritual director, who is now my boss (funny how life works out sometimes!), diagnosed my particular case as a combination of failing to notice God’s presence and deciding I didn’t need God anyway. I’m glad I could offer her such a potent mixture of blindness and stupidity. Needless to say, our sessions were never boring. Over our two years together, she taught me many things, but one stands above the rest. You can basically separate the events of your life into two categories, she said. There are moments of consolation, and there are moments of desolation. Both will happen and ignoring one will make the other that much harder to define. This week, we are going to look at these two categories and see how we can follow Christ more closely if we keep stock of where we are on this spectrum.

There’s the good news of consolation and the bad news of desolation. We’ll start with the bad news first. But that will be tomorrow.

…Praying For…

Dear God, my life is a canvas upon which you are painting. Help me to live out every line, every shade, that I may live to the fullest the life you would have me live. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, and wherever I am – whether in the garden or the wasteland – I pray that you help me see your presence in my life.

The Sense of Touch (January 20, 2012)

Published on by Adam Thomas1 Comment

…Opening To…

“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

…Listening In…

A woman was there who had been bleeding for twelve years. She had spent her entire livelihood on doctors, but no one could heal her. She came up behind him and touched the hem of his clothes, and at once her bleeding stopped.  “Who touched me?” Jesus asked. When everyone denied it, Peter said, “Master, the crowds are surrounding you and pressing in on you!” But Jesus said, “Someone touched me. I know that power has gone out from me.” When the woman saw that she couldn’t escape notice, she came trembling and fell before Jesus. In front of everyone, she explained why she had touched him and how she had been immediately healed. “Daughter, your faith has healed you,” Jesus said. “Go in peace.” (Luke 8:43-48; context)

…Filling Up…

We have reached the last of our five senses, and it’s Friday, so that worked out well! I don’t know about you but the sense of touch is by far the most important sense for the human experience. Think about an infant bonding with a mother in the hours after delivery or a couple slow dancing or friends high-fiving at a football game. God has built into our DNA the need to touch and be touched.

I remember in college when I sensed that I just wasn’t getting enough hugs. They say you need X number of hugs a day for emotional sanity (the number varies – I’d say between five and eight), and I was getting a grand total of zero. I remember mentioning this to a couple of friends, who had the same experience. So we made a point to hug each other whenever we saw one another. You can be surrounded by people all day, but if there is no physical contact, then loneliness can creep in.

So what’s so important about this sense of touch, especially considering our God is not someone we have ever had any tactile experience with? Touch, more than any other sense, helps us feel connected. Oftentimes, you can communicate more with a squeeze of a hand or a pat on the shoulder or a firm embrace than you can in words. Just think about the first time you attempted to hold your date’s hand or kiss your date good night. I bet your heart pounded. You could feel the impending connection, and it made you a little dizzy.

God may not touch us physically in this way, but just think about the expression: “That was so touching.” When we use this expression, we are never actually talking about physical contact. But the act of reaching out and touching someone is so powerful that we have transferred the emotional connotation of the touch into other realms of our experience. God does touch us; maybe not physically, as Jesus once did, but God touches every corner of our spirit and sets us on fire.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you have given me the sense of touch to experience more fully the connecting joy you have built into creation. Help me to reach out my hands in service, and make them to be your hands reaching out to this world that is in dire need of your embrace. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, ready to see, hear, taste, touch, and smell your presence, that I may be more aware of your movement in my life.

The Sense of Hearing (January 19, 2012)

Published on by Adam ThomasLeave a comment

…Opening To…

“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

…Listening In…

Let me hear what the LORD God says, because he speaks peace to his people and to his faithful ones. Don’t let them return to foolish ways. (Psalm 85:8; context)

…Filling Up…

Like the sense of sight, hearing can be tricky. As a sense, hearing consists of vibrations hitting special parts of our ears and then our brains organizing those vibrations into intelligible sounds. Now, I suppose I could have started each day this week with a scientific explanation of the sense, but since I’m neither a scientist nor a Time Lord (Doctor Who reference – check it out, seriously), we’ll just have to make do. Anyway, the sense of hearing is all about making intelligent guesses about the vibrations bombarding us. How does this jive with our exploration of God’s presence? I’m glad you asked.

“No one has ever seen God,” claims the prologue to the Gospel according to John. But throughout the Bible, people certainly hear God. There are three kinds of people who hear God. First, there are the prophet-type people who are so in tune with God that they know God’s words as their own, like Isaiah or Amos. Second, there are the people who would never have expected to hear God because of some perceived impediment, like Moses or Jeremiah. Third, there are the people who are going against God and need a shout (such as the kind your dad gave when you wandered into the street), like Saul who becomes Paul.

In each case, these folks’ hearing of God’s message goes much beyond mere receiving of the verbal stimuli. The sense of hearing translates into the act of listening, which is another way of saying they obeyed. You’ll notice if you look in a mirror that God designed us humans a certain way where hearing is involved. It’s easy to close our eyes, but difficult to close our ears. We have to ram our hands over our ears and press as hard as we can to stop the sound from coming in. Notice also that if you turn around so your eyes are looking the other way, your ears haven’t changed place. God designed us this way on purpose, I think. God is still continuing to speak creation into being, and God has given us the biological reminder that we can always remain open to hearing and then listening to God’s voice.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you have given me the sense of hearing to experience more fully the ways you communicate your creation into being. Help me to listen and obey you when I hear your voice guiding my life. In Jesus Christ’s name pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, ready to see, hear, taste, touch, and smell your presence, that I may be more aware of your movement in my life.

The Sense of Taste (January 18, 2012)

Published on by Adam ThomasLeave a comment

…Opening To…

“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

…Listening In…

Your word is so pleasing to my taste buds—it’s sweeter than honey in my mouth! (Psalm 119:103; context)

…Filling Up…

Scripture is filled with images of tasting, which is our third of the five senses for this week of devotions. Both Ezekiel and John of Patmos eat scrolls with words from God written on them. They taste like honey. Actually, tasting like honey is a big deal in the Bible. In Psalm 19, the Lord’s judgments taste like honey, as does the Lord’s word in Psalm 119. In Exodus, the manna that the Israelites eat in the wilderness tastes like honey as well.

Pair these descriptions with the notion of tasting of God. Psalm 34 invites us to “taste and see that the Lord is good.” 1 Peter assumes we have already done so and reached the same conclusion about God’s savory quality. Honey does, indeed, taste good. I put it in tea to sweeten up the Earl Grey.

But think about the claim we are making whenever we reference these pieces of the Bible. We say that tasting the Lord is good. Therefore, the claim we make is that the Lord is like food, and not just any food, but food that tastes as good as honey. We really should eat food every day to stay healthy; sadly, not everyone in the world has that opportunity. When we don’t eat, we become malnourished. The same is true when we fail to taste of God. We become malnourished spiritually and forget what it is like to be full of the Lord, to have the honey of God’s word dripping from our lips.

But remember that God tastes good. God makes it desirable for us to come to the table for our meal. There’s no wonder that Holy Communion is a feast that we do often – we physically taste of the bread and spiritually taste of the binding and weaving movement of God. (Now I know many of us use the thin, disc-like wafers that don’t taste like much of anything at all, but just go with me here.) So taste and see that the Lord is good. Fill your belly with the word of God that tastes sweeter than honey dripping from the comb.

You may develop a sweet tooth, but it’s a sweet tooth for God, so your dentist won’t complain.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you have given me a sense of taste to experience more fully those good things that nourish my body. Help me to savor your word as I would savor my favorite food. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, ready to see, hear, taste, touch, and smell your presence, that I may be more aware of your movement in my life.

The Sense of Smell (January 17, 2012)

Published on by Adam Thomas2 Comments

…Opening To…

“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

…Listening In…

Let my prayer stand before you like incense; let my uplifted hands be like the evening offering. (Psalm 141:2; context)

…Filling Up…

Yesterday, we began a week of devotions based on the senses. When I got to the point of writing the “Sending Out” section for the week, I listed the five senses, finished the sentence, and then read back over it. Next I laughed out loud. What does the sense of smell really have to do with noticing God’s presence?

So let’s go ahead and tackle “smell” today and then move on tomorrow with a sense that seems to fit better with finding God’s presence. Not so fast, you might say. Perhaps “smell” has more to show us than you, Adam, originally thought. Maybe you’re right. Let’s see. I’m not sure I’ve ever thought to myself, “Wow, that smells like the presence of God.” Incense during church services (if you’re into that kind of thing) might give you a fragrant association with the holy, but that’s all I can come up with.

But here’s where the sense of smell has something to offer. Of the five senses, the sense of smell is the one most strongly associated with memory. Perhaps when you smell chocolate chip cookies in the oven, you are suddenly seven years old again and sitting at your grandmother’s kitchen table with your legs dangling over the side of your chair. Perhaps when you smell your gym bag, you are suddenly back on the field at the end of the big game.

What association, smell or otherwise, brings you more fully into God’s presence? Is it opening your Bible? Or stepping into church? Or smelling the incense? If you are finding it difficult to train yourself to notice God’s movement, try associating it with a memory or a smell. If I thought of God every time I smelled chocolate chip cookies, I think I would be quite excited indeed.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you have given me a sense of smell to experience more fully the world you have created. Help me to seek your presence with all my senses and to associate you with all that is good in my life. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, ready to see, hear, taste, touch, and smell your presence, that I may be more aware of your movement in my life.

The Sense of Sight (January 16, 2012)

Published on by Adam ThomasLeave a comment

…Opening To…

“A man should hear a little music, read a little poetry, and see a fine picture every day of his life, in order that worldly cares may not obliterate the sense of the beautiful which God has implanted in the human soul.” (Johann Wolfgang von Goethe)

…Listening In…

Jesus replied, “Do you believe because you see me? Happy are those who don’t see and yet believe.” (John 20:29; context)

…Filling Up…

In a Bible study yesterday at church, I led a group that discussed all of the visual and auditory language in a reading from 1 Samuel 3. It was a very cool discussion, and now I have the senses on the mind. So this week, I’d like to talk about how God encounters us through our senses. And coincidentally enough, we have five of them, which is perfect to fill a week! We’ll start with sight.

First off, sight is problematic. There are too many Biblical passages that run along the lines of the quotation above: whenever Jesus talks about others believing because they have seen something or need to see something, he seems just a little bit disappointed. This would naturally make us suspicious of the sense of sight where encountering God is concerned. Sight is linked to the need for proof. For some reason, whenever we talk about proof, sight is our sense of choice.

However, there’s another way of looking at sight, and we need not be suspicious of it. Rather than looking for proof of God’s presence, let’s use our vision to see what at first glance seems like proof against that presence. Let’s use of vision to notice deprivations in our communities to which we might normally keep ourselves willingly blind. It’s easy to ignore the homeless man on the street city or the starving child on the TV commercial. We ignore them because they make us feel uncomfortable. But we can’t respond to needs that we don’t see.

So let’s use our eyes, not to prove to ourselves that God is present, but to prove to God that we can be present to others.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you have give me eyes to see your wonders in this world. Help me to be a part of that wonder in the lives of those around me. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, ready to see, hear, taste, touch, and smell your presence, that I may be more aware of your movement in my life.

A Deep Breath

Published on by Adam ThomasLeave a comment

(Sermon for Sunday, January 15, 2012 || Epiphany 2B || 1 Samuel 1:1-20 )

People, including many of you, often ask me how I knew that God was calling me to be a priest. Here’s the story. This week ten years ago, I began the second semester of my freshman year of college. At that time, I was enrolled in a four-semester Humanities class that took a holistic approach to studying Western civilization. The second semester of the class moved from the end of the ancient world through the Middle Ages, so we began around the time of the fall of Rome. The first book we read was The Confessions of Saint Augustine. Now, many of my classmates couldn’t stand Augustine’s introspective, theological memoir, but for some reason, I couldn’t put the book down. What I didn’t realize at the time was that Augustine was teaching me to look deep within myself as he had done all those centuries ago. For me, this book turned out to be much more than an assignment in a four-semester Humanities class.

As I slowly, hesitantly began to look deep within, I began to notice a glowing ember. This ember was the source of the blaze that would become my heart’s fire, but at first the ember was nothing more than the tiniest of flames, the mustard seed of flames. With St. Augustine’s help, I caught sight of that tiny flame. And without realizing what I was doing, I took a deep breath, and when I exhaled, the Holy Spirit rode the wind of my breath into that ember. And the fire began – slowly, hesitantly – this fire that was my call to serve God as a priest in God’s church.

In today’s lesson from the Hebrew Scripture, the boy Samuel is fast asleep on the floor of the temple of the LORD. And God calls to him, “Samuel! Samuel!” This is Samuel’s own glowing ember, the first phase of his call.

The spark, the glimmer that St. Augustine made me aware of was Phase One of mine. Well, from God’s perspective, what I thought was Phase One was probably closer to Phase 23. But to me, the ember was just the beginning. By the end of my freshman year of college, I knew something was going on in the recesses of my being. I knew a flame had been kindled, but I didn’t know yet on what the flame was shedding light. However, if I had been alone, if I had been the only one to notice and nurture the glowing ember, I am convinced there would never have been a Phase Two.

Enter the Reverend Tom Ward, the chaplain at the University of the South in Sewanee, Tennessee. Once a month for my entire sophomore year, I met with Tom Ward, and we just talked. We talked about my hopes and dreams, my fears and doubts, my past and future. And then one day – the day was so ordinary that I don’t even have a clear memory of the meeting – I told him about the glowing ember. I told him about reading St. Augustine and looking within and being surprised to find the glowing. And then, fully realizing what he was doing, Tom took a deep breath, and when he exhaled, the Holy Spirit rode the wind of his breath. And the fire spread out from my gut and into every corner of my being.

In today’s lesson, the boy Samuel is fast asleep on the floor of the temple of the LORD. And God calls to him, “Samuel! Samuel!” Samuel cries out, “Here I am!” And then he runs to Eli, the priest under whom he serves, thinking that Eli had called out to him. “I did not call; lie down again,” says a confused Eli. Samuel does so, but God calls again and then again. Each time, Samuel runs to Eli, thinking that Eli has called out to him. Finally, the third time, Eli realizes that the LORD has been the one calling out to Samuel. So Eli instructs his young charge: “If [God] calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, LORD, for your servant is listening.’ ” Eli understands Samuel’s call, and Eli teaches Samuel how to respond to that call. Elis is Samuel’s Tom Ward, the mentor who teaches the student how to respond to God.

During my junior year of college, Tom Ward gathered a group of six people from the community of Sewanee to meet with me about the fire that God had kindled two years before. Every week, we met and shared stories about ourselves: not just me, but each of us sharing. Some stories had to do with God’s movement in our lives, others not, though you come to realize that every story has something to do with God’s movement. This group tested the fire, attempting to discern if the fire was from God. Through listening and sharing and praying, we decided God was in the flame.

In today’s lesson, Eli sends the boy Samuel back to his bed with a response to God. The LORD stands before Samuel and calls his name. Samuel responds, “Speak, for your servant is listening.” The group that Tom Ward formed for my discernment taught me how to listen – how to listen to their voices and stories, and within them how to listen for the voice of God speaking God’s story for my life.

During my senior year of college, I went before a scary committee in the diocese of West Virginia. We talked through four one-hour meetings, and at the end of the day, they decided to recommend me for postulancy for Holy Orders. Two years of seminary later, I went before the same committee again, though they were less scary this time. We talked more, and at the end of the day, they recommended me for candidacy for Holy Orders. Six months later, the bishop of West Virginia ordained me to be a deacon. And six months after that, he ordained me to be a priest. Of course, discernment of God’s call is never over, so don’t take away from this that my call story ended that day in June, 2008.

Rather, reflect back on these stories I’ve been telling you these last few minutes. Notice how my story and Samuel’s story overlap. In neither case, can we classify these stories as just mine or just Samuel’s. These stories also belong to Eli and Tom Ward, to the group at Sewanee and the scary committee. And these stories belong to you, for you here at St. Stephen’s have always been a part of God’s call in my life. We just didn’t know that a decade ago.

Notice also that nothing in these stories is all that mysterious. Save for the glowing ember and God’s first call of “Samuel! Samuel!” every phase of these stories involves the simple act of talking with other people. God has built this need for conversation, for communion really, into the very fabric of God’s call in our lives. No call from God exists in solitary confinement. No call from God can ignite into full flame without many people blowing on the embers. We need each other to tease out and discover and nurture God’s call because God’s voice most often comes to us in the voices of other people. Why else would Samuel think Eli was calling to him over and over again?

When you are wondering what God might be calling you to, I offer you this guidance. Find a friend whom you trust more than you trust yourself. This person could be a parent or a spouse or another person whose soul is somehow mingled with yours. Ask this person these two simple questions:

“What do you think the world needs?”

and

“What do you think I’m good at?”

As you and your friend talk, listen to her words. At the same time, watch for the glowing ember deep within you. Sooner or later the answers to those two questions will intersect, and the ember will glow just a little bit brighter. And without realizing what you are doing, you will both take a deep breath, and when you exhale, the Holy Spirit will ride the wind of your collective breath and ignite a fire in your heart.

A Little Head Jiggle (January 13, 2012)

Published on by Adam ThomasLeave a comment

…Opening To…

Sonny, true love is the greatest thing in the world — except for a nice MLT — mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich, where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomato is ripe. They’re so perky, I love that. (Miracle Max, The Princess Bride)

…Listening In…

Fezzik: You just shook your head… doesn’t that make you happy?
Westley: My brains, his steel, and your strength against sixty men, and you think a little head jiggle is supposed to make me happy?

…Filling Up…

Westley has been mostly dead all day, but the chocolate-coated pill Miracle Max made to bring him back to life has worked – almost. The former Man in Black can talk and move his eyes and wiggle his finger, but those are the extent of his physical abilities. Inigo and Fezzik bring him back so he could plan a way to break into the castle guarded by sixty men. Needless to say, things look bleak.

Westley indicates the fact that things, indeed, do look bleak by shaking his head, although it comes off as more of a loll back and forth. This is when Fezzik quips the line above. It seems that Fezzik is looking on the bright side, while Westley, who has been mostly dead all day and now must think his way past a gate guarded by sixty men, is seeing no reason for optimism.

He calls it a head-jiggle. How is a little head jiggle supposed to make him happy? We can ask the same question about our lives. The little head jiggles in our lives are those tiniest of blessings that we more than likely miss because we are busy calculating how to get into the castle (thanks for riding this metaphor with me, by the way). But it is these blessings that make up the great majority of the blessings God bestows on our lives. Not every blessing is flashy. Not every one has neon sign that points to itself and says, “Hey I’m a blessing.” Most blessings are like the plankton whales eat. You wonder how a great, big whale can survive on microscopic organisms. Well, it’s because each whale eats about a million a day.

So remember the little head jiggles that make you happy. Write them down. You might be faced with a castle gate and five-dozen armed swordsmen, but each head jiggle is just as important.

…Praying For…

Dear God, thank you for blessing me with the abundance of gifts, both that I see and never notice. Help me to appreciate the blessings in my life so that I can remember them when times are tough. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, knowing that yours is the truest love in the world and that not even death can stop true love.

One of the Classic Blunders (January 12, 2012)

Published on by Adam ThomasLeave a comment

…Opening To…

Sonny, true love is the greatest thing in the world — except for a nice MLT — mutton, lettuce and tomato sandwich, where the mutton is nice and lean and the tomato is ripe. They’re so perky, I love that. (Miracle Max, The Princess Bride)

…Listening In…

Buttercup: And to think, all that time it was your cup that was poisoned.
Man in Black: They were both poisoned. I spent the last few years building up an immunity to iocane powder.

…Filling Up…

The two lines above conclude one of the two most famous scenes in The Princess Bride. (The other is the fight that begins with, “Hello, my name is Inigo Montoya…”). Of course, I’m talking about the “Battle of Wits.” The Man in Black has already bested Inigo at fencing and Fezzik at hand fighting, and now he comes upon Vizzini sitting calmly with a picnic spread before him and a knife at Buttercup’s throat. The Man in Black and Vizzini find themselves at an impasse, so they have the Battle of Wits, in which Vizzini must discover which cup of wine contains the poison.

His dizzying intellect whirs into high gear, and even though he cheats by switching the glasses, he ends up laughing until he suddenly dies. He never makes the mental leap that the Man in Black might have poisoned both cups in order to ensure that Vizzini doesn’t end up killing Buttercup. He doesn’t think that the Man in Black might sacrifice himself so that Buttercup could be safe. Of course, the Man in Black has an immunity to the poison, so he’s not quite as noble as I’m making him out to be. But still.

Vizzini operates under an assumption – that the Man in Black wants to kidnap what he (Vizzini) has rightfully stolen. And this assumption kills Vizzini. He thinks he knows everything or can deduce everything. He is wrong. Sometimes, especially in my low moments, I make assumptions about God. I assume that God can’t possibly be in this situation or that crisis. And it kills me – not physically, mind you, or else I wouldn’t be typing this, but spiritually. The minute I assume God hasn’t or isn’t going to show up is the minute I stop looking for God’s presence.

Perhaps you’ve had similar times in your life. It’s at these times that I have to remember that both cups of wine were poisoned. I have to remember that God is in every situation. And I have to remember never to get involved in a land war in Asia.

…Praying For…

Dear God, you permeate all of existence, including mine, even when I don’t acknowledge you. Help me to practice seeking your presence so that I may get better at finding it. In Jesus Christ’s name I pray. Amen.

…Sending Out…

I leave this moment with you, God, knowing that yours is the truest love in the world and that not even death can stop true love.