A Community of Brothers

It's been a while since I sat down to write from the Sparrow's perch.  I needed to do a major renovation on my home in order to accommodate all of my children coming for Thanksgiving. With winter just around the corner, the sparrows don't flit and twitter outside my window, and my office is colder.  During the summer, I can open the window, and turn on the fan, but there is only one way to get warm during the winter.  My work schedule for the day gave me a short breather this morning, and I decided to take advantage of it.

As the Men's pastor for our congregation, I've been blessed to shepherd some of the most wonderful men I know. For the last year, we've been studying a book by Wes Yoder, titled: Bond of Brothers.  (There's more to the title, but it would give away what I'm about to say.) We're in the final chapter, and it is amazing how pertinent it is to what is going on in my own life. I'm in the waning years of my life, and while I'm not concerned with dying, I am concerned with how I exit this life.  If my family's genetics are written on me, and I've not circumvented them with stupid living habits, I should live well into my late seventies, even to my eighties.  Both of my grandmothers lived way past their eighties, and my paternal grandmother lived till she was in her nineties.  Needless to say, I anticipate a few more years, so I'm not being melodramatic when I talk about death.  I've just moved closer to the inevitable exit at the back of the theater.  Wes Yoder brings the important issues of being a Christ-man to the fore-front, and places them in their proper priority.  One of the things he makes so clear, is the Christ community is in trouble.  As I thought on this, I came away with a profound image of the man I want to be.

As anyone who's read this blog should know, I'm big on living in the presence of God. The title of this blog is derived from the Psalms where the Psalmist would sit outside the Tabernacle, and watch the sparrows move freely in and out of the one place men were forbidden to go.  Then, Christ opened a new, and more excellent way into the Holy of Holies.  Now, we can all go freely where only sparrows could go before.  If we want, we can even crawl up into the Father's lap, and say; 'abba'  (Daddy.)  Imagine, you the created, jumping into the Creator's lap, and calling him 'Daddy.'  It is a remarkable place of awe, inspiration, joy, and even provision.  Who better to take care of you than your Daddy?  AND, what a Daddy he is.

As I read Wes Yoders final chapter, it suddenly came upon me that the work of the Cross brought the Presence of God into a different light.  We don't just climb up in the Father's lap alone.  We are part of a larger being, with different needs than our own petty needs.  The community of faith, albeit strained and imperfect, is the presence of Christ.  The men who allow me to lead them, give to me a greater experience of God's presence than I can have on my own.  If I want to know the Father's heart, He gives me brothers to show me His heart.

Knowing the Father's heart without my brothers is a scary thought.  IF, (suppositional)  the Father is compassionate, He will bless me with people who are in need of compassion.  If the Father is kind, He will demand that I show kindness to those for whom the act means nothing.  If I am to learn how to be gentle, He will bless me with brutish men who try my own strength.  Within this body of men I call my brothers, who seek His Presence as I do, the bond of brothers moves me to evaluate my actions in light of their actions.  We encourage, build up, admonish, and teach one another.  Here in the presence of each other, we hone the edge of our relationship, so that our walk through this earthly vale will be as Christ walks.

ALONE, I am not the body of Christ.  It is only as I yield, (or better yet, the ugly word - SUBMIT,) to my brothers, that I find myself in the presence of Christ.  Alone, I do what I do as a member of that body.  I consider myself to be the less comely member, the one that is kept clothed (hidden) and hidden from view.  I know me better than anyone.  I tend to be abrupt, sharp, and to the point. My interests are few, and my tolerance low.  Yet, somehow when I am with my brothers in the Lord, these qualities disappear into a gentler, kinder, and less brutish persona . . . .Christ.    Christ is the Presence of God, and when I am with my Brothers in the Lord, he is more real than at any other time.