Russell J. Levenson Jr.

Finding Shelter


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      If we try to stuff anything but God into that God-shaped hole in our lives, we find ourselves discontented and dissatisfied. A passion for God is diluted with other things, and so the fullness of God cannot be experienced. But if we pour into Pascal’s “God-shaped hole” God, our lives begin to take on an order that results in spiritual health, the fruit of abandoning idolatry.

      Notice the brief title of this meditation, “Tending to the Garden.” The likelihood is that all of us struggle with idolatry—and I suspect Pascal, Lewis, and good old Moses did as well. So, it is less of a once-and-for-all kind of practice, and more of a once, and again, and again. This fall, I had to get out there in my garden and uproot some things for the sake of a healthier garden. When it comes to tending the soul that is your garden, what might need rooting out? Tend to your garden.

      img1 A New Leaf img1

      Moses put it out there, “Love God with all of your heart . . . soul and strength.” Our Jewish friends call this the great Shema. It serves as a centerpiece of their morning and evening worship. Moses did not cut any corners—Love God with all, means all—and it does not mean some or most. Use a moment or two to acknowledge what might be getting in the way of that “all,” and then ask God to help you root it out—better yet, ask God to do the work. He is the better gardener!

       A Prayer

      O Lord, let me not henceforth desire health or life, except to spend them for You, with You, and in You. You alone know what is good for me; do, therefore, what seems best to You. Give to me, or take from me; . . . and may [I] equally adore all that comes to me from You; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.

      —Blaise Pascal, d. 1662

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       Stepping Out in Faith

      When the soles of the feet of the priests who bear the ark of the Lord, the Lord of all the earth, rest in the waters of the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan flowing from above shall be cut off; they shall stand in a single heap.

      —Joshua 3:13

      When I was a kid growing up in Alabama, one of the great things about fall was raking up the leaves into a pile and then jumping in with my siblings and friends. Looking back now, it was interesting to see the variety of ways that jumping was approached. I had some friends who would literally dive in headfirst. I was a bit more timid and cautious. I remember one friend who dove in and unfortunately landed on a hard rock hidden beneath the leaves—not much fun in that. Some, perhaps only a few, were reluctant to jump in at all—not knowing what that leap might mean.

      The snippet above from Joshua is a kind of turning point in the history of the Hebrew people. (I would bid you to pause here and read the third chapter of Joshua.) In sum this is what happens: we find the Hebrew people invited to pass through some water—this time, the Jordan River. Of course, it is not the first time they have been asked to do this; that was on the banks of the Red Sea when Moses lifted up his staff and they scurried through the walled-up waters with Pharaoh’s soldiers nipping at their heels. This scene is about forty years later. After wandering in the wilderness, making laws, breaking them, and being refined again and again by God’s hand, the Hebrews are about to make a journey from desert into the Promised Land. Moses is dead, leaving them in Joshua’s charge and then they hit a snag—a big one.

      They come to the edge of the Jordan River—not a trickling Jordan—a river at flood stage. They are going to have to go through the waters again; but this time, God will not do it alone. This time, they are called on to do their part.

      Joshua gathers the people the next morning and tells them they are to put their eyes on the Levite priests, who will lift the ark and carry it down to the edge of the Jordan. Then he says, “By this you shall know that among you is the living God . . . When the soles of the feet of the priests who bear the ark of the Lord . . . rest in the waters of the Jordan, the waters of the Jordan flowing from above shall be cut off; they shall stand in a single heap” (Joshua 3:10, 13).

      That is exactly what happened, we are told—the sun rose, they broke camp, and went down to the water’s edge. The priests hoisted the ark, the visible sign of God’s presence in their midst, and walked to the water’s edge. Nothing happened—nothing at all—until . . . they stepped out and placed their foot into the water. At that moment, the water stopped, the Hebrews left the past, and stepped, literally, into the future. They came into the Promised Land because they followed, and in the end, because they chose to step out in faith. It’s not what they did that enabled them to come into their new home, it was their belief in God—their faith, if you will, that made them put one foot in front of the other. It really is a great story about taking a leap of faith—literally.

      So often we tend to hold back from things we think God might be calling us to do because we are afraid to step out in faith. We know God works in all kinds of ways. For instance, God does many things for us every day about which we have no say whatsoever. (What if you were responsible for making sure your heart beat at regular intervals?) While God may be watching over us, some things he allows us to do on our own. Some things, it seems, God wants to do “with us,” to partner with us if you will—and so before venturing further he may suggest we take the first step—and then he will do the rest.

      Practically, what might that mean? Have you felt God calling on you to do something of late and you have been putting it off because you do not know what would happen should you give it a try? In what way today are you being asked to step into the water and see what God will do through you? Perhaps you are feeling tension in a relationship with a friend, and need to pick up the phone and talk. Maybe there’s a coworker you distrust, but could get to know better over coffee. It could be that your neighborhood is full of isolated and lonely people and God is leading you to reach out to them.

      On a more personal level, maybe it is time to see what life is like without the burden of addiction. Maybe it is time to let go of a destructive or abusive relationship. Maybe it is time to quit making excuses for not praying, or not resting, or not laughing, or not crying, or not being more loving to the one or ones God has given you, or not doing the things God gave you the means to do.

      Just put one foot into the water. I like what Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., said, “You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.” You don’t have to see where the journey will end, just let it begin.

      You