I had the good fortune to grow up in a wonderfully healthy and balanced home. Okay, so that mystical myth - "fortune" - had nothing to do with it. I lived in that kind of home because of two faithful and loving parents and four siblings I looked up to and was proud to claim as mine. (I still am, too!) A regular part of my life growing up was church. I'm not sure if this was my brother and sisters' experience or not, but I remember being at church every Sunday - unless I was sick or we were out of town. Sunday School, worship services, cookies and punch in the Fellowship Hall… all memories I hold of those years. All part of the "it's what we do" when I was growing up.
As I got older, my church friends and I were able - and somewhat expected - to do more in the life of the congregation. I served as an acolyte and lit the altar candles as part of the ritual of the worship service - affirming the reminder of the light of God's presence joining us as we worship and leaving with us as we left an hour later to go back into our "normal" life. Other than the goofy white robes we had to wear, it was a pretty cool job… I mean, we got to carry a flame in Church!

Later, as I got into High School, I moved up in my responsibilities and became a Junior Deacon. I served communion, I collected the offering, I even went to our denomination's national conference.

I remember hearing someone at a conference a few years ago describe his childhood religious life much like mine. He said, "Yep, I'm a BUICK Brought UIChristian Knowledge." That was me! I knew all about God. I knew all about the Church. Not only did my family drive a Buick… I was one!

In the first part of the Bible - the section commonly called the Old Testament - there is a story of a young man named Samuel. His early story has some similarities to mine. It has some similarities to yours too, although you may not know it yet.

Samuel grew up in his day's version of Church - literally. He had been dedicated to God as an infant and taken to the tabernacle at Shiloh. Shiloh was the center of Jewish worship in the years before Jerusalem became Israel's capital city and the place where they kept the Ark of the Covenant - the box that contained the Ten Commandments and other important artifacts from the time of the Exodus. Shiloh is where the people would go to offer sacrifices to God. It is where the High Priest, Eli, lived and did his ministry. As Samuel grew up there at Shiloh, he served Eli, working beside him in the service of God.

That part of Samuel's story reminds me of my own: active and serving in the worshiping community. (I didn't actually live at the church, although sometimes it certainly felt like it.) Moving from one level of expectation and responsibility to another. Hearing the stories of God and his people week after week.

But, Samuel was standing at the Edge and didn't know it. He had been living there for quite a while and didn't know it. The interesting thing to me is, it's the very same Edge I found myself facing when I got to college.

Samuel had spent so much time - his whole life - around the things of God. He had been with the people of God, in the house of God, hearing the stories and truths of God, doing all the "right" and "religious" things. Yet, in 1 Samuel 3:7 we read this shocking revelations…
 
        "Now, Samuel did not yet know the Lord..." 

Wait a minute… how can that be? Look at what is said about Samuel before this disturbing verse:

        "But Samuel was ministering before the Lord under Eli the priest." (1 Samuel 2:11)

        "But Samuel was ministering before the Lord - a boy wearing a linen ephod." (1 Samuel 2:18)

        "And the boy Samuel continued to grow in stature and in favor with the Lord and with people." (1 Samuel 2:26)

        "The boy Samuel ministered before the Lord under Eli." (1 Samuel 3:1) 

Yet, in spite of all of this, Samuel - we are told - did not know the Lord. Now that is an Edge! 

Can you imagine spending all your time, pouring all your life into some work - some good work - only to discover that you were missing the most important, most foundational part of that work and of life itself? Can you imagine it?

Some of us don't need to imagine it. We've seen close friends and family members peering over that Edge, having their breath taken away by the dramatically scary, amazing vista that opened up before them. For others of us, this is the Edge we are standing at even as we read these words. Or, perhaps, it is the Edge God is pulling us toward.

I stood on this Edge when I was in college. I had an amazing opportunity that not too many people have. I attended a small, historic Christian college in Oregon. What made it so amazing was that it was there that I met, lived in the dorm with, and went to classes with other young adults - people my age - who spoke about God and Jesus as something, as someone far beyond the Sunday School lessons of my youth. They spoke of Jesus like someone they knew… and not just knew about. I found myself standing on this most important, most basic Edge that anyone can come to. Looking back, I think I can just make out Samuel's footprints in the dirt next to mine.

It was the Edge of owned faith.

Behind Samuel stood all that he had heard and done and experienced during all those years "ministering before the Lord". In front of him opened up the vastness of the Eternal. Before him was God, calling his name, inviting him to a life beyond anything he had every imagined. In the quiet hours of the night, Samuel woke up (literally and figuratively) to the fact that he was at this Edge. To be fair to Samuel, even Eli the priest - the one who was supposed to know all about this God-stuff - didn’t recognize the Edge at first either.

At that time Eli, whose eyesight had begun to grow dim so that he could not see, was lying down in his own place. The lamp of God had not yet gone out, and Samuel was lying down in the temple of the Lord, where the ark of God was. 
Then the Lord called Samuel, and he said, “Here I am!” and ran to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call; lie down again.” So he went and lay down

And the Lord called again, “Samuel!” and Samuel arose and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” But he said, “I did not call, my son; lie down again.” Now Samuel did not yet know the Lord, and the word of the Lord had not yet been revealed to him. 
And the Lord called Samuel again the third time. And he arose and went to Eli and said, “Here I am, for you called me.” Then Eli perceived that the Lord was calling the young man. Therefore Eli said to Samuel, “Go, lie down, and if he calls you, you shall say, ‘Speak, Lord, for your servant hears.’” So Samuel went and lay down in his place. (1 Samuel 3:3-9 ESV)

So, given this guidance from Eli, and a third-time prompting from God, Samuel prays a Prayer from the Edge. His prayer is so simple, yet so amazingly profound - "Speak, Lord, your servant is listening."

It seems like a nothing little prayer, doesn't it? So brief. So plain. It hardly seems like a prayer, let alone something so life-shaping as a Prayer from the Edge. But the truths and affirmations in these six simple words sho how prepared Samuel's heart really was to be facing this Edge.

We'll look at that prayer next time... but, for now, take a look around. 

Ask yourself a pretty tough question... remember, it is the most foundational question you can ask. No matter what your church or religious or spiritual background is... Do you know God? Not just know about God - but know God. As in a relationship... as a real person?
 
Do you yet know the Lord?
 
In one of my notebooks, I have a square card that I have kept there for about ten years. I picked it up at a stationary and art shop in one of my favorite places on earth – Canon Beach, Oregon. The card – in very cool lettering – contains words from the artist who designed it, Mary Anne Hersey. The card reads: 

        Live with Intention
        Walk to the Edge
        Listen Hard
        Practice Wellness
        Laugh
        Play with Abandon
        Continue to Learn
        Appreciate your Friends
        Choose with no Regret
        Do what you Love
        Live as if this is All there is
        Live with Intention 

I like those thoughts… that’s why I take the card out of its pocket in my notebook and read it every so often. I do pretty well with most of those admonitions most of the time – Laugh, play with abandon, continue to learn, appreciate your friends.

There are a couple of lines on that card, though, that take a bit more… well, intentionality for me. One in particular stands out –

        Walk to the Edge

The edge can be a scary place. Nothing to keep you from falling but your own tenuous sense of balance.

Now, some people revel in that. They love climbing up on ladders, leaning over railings, standing with their toes right up to the verge of a cliff. While getting out there may give you a great view… the Edge can give me the willies.

It wasn’t always that way. I used to love to climb up on ladders… I wasn’t so good at climbing trees for some reason. I liked to be up on our garage roof and get out to the edge of some of the drop-offs overlooking Shilshole Bay near my childhood home in Seattle. It all changed for me one day during my senior year at Ballard High School. I was helping some of the cheerleaders change a reader board on the side of the School’s gym building. I used a 24 foot extension ladder to get up to the sign and sat on the eight-inch or so wide ledge below the sign to reach across and change the lettering. Not a problem! I loved it. Then the girls thought it would be funny to take the ladder down for a minute. Now… that was a problem! The ladder was too heavy for them to handle. They dropped it as they took it down and couldn’t lift it back up. Over the next ten minutes or so, I kept myself balanced – half on, half off the ledge – while they ran through the school looking for the custodian to come help them with the ladder. As the minutes slipped by, so did my enthusiasm for ladders, high places, and being on the edge like that. To this day ladders make my knees turn to not-quite-set jello.

But, that’s a literal Edge. That line on my card is pointing to a more metaphorical Edge, I think…

        The Edge of my experience…
        The Edge of what I know…
        The Edge of Myself.

The Edge can be a scary place… but it is a very important place to be. It is at the Edge that we get the best views… both of where we’ve been and where we hope to go. It’s at the Edge that growth happens… good, healthy growth. It’s at the Edge that we can go beyond ourselves and step into a future that God unfolds before us.

To walk to the Edge means to move to the spot between what you know and what you’ve only wondered about. To walk to the Edge means to walk right up to the point where all of your experiences – good and bad – have brought you to look ahead into the unknown. To walk to the Edge calls us to move with trust that the words of Proverbs 16:9 are true… 

        “In his heart a man plans his course,
        but the Lord determines his steps.”
 

And, it seems to me, that to walk to the Edge challenges us to take the next step… not off the Edge – that sounds a bit fatalistic – but the step of faith.

Maybe that’s what makes Walking to the Edge is scary. It takes us beyond ourselves. It deposits us right at the spot where to move ahead means to move beyond ourselves… to move where only faith can take us.

To get there doesn’t just happen… it takes Living with Intention.
 
That's a line from one of my favorite books - "From the Corner of His Eye" - by one of my favorite authors - Dean Koontz. He uses it to describe what one of his characters is experiencing as she ponders some strange and definitely unexpected happenings in the life of her family.

And, it describes well what I hope this Blog will become - a place to faithfully nibble on the mysteries of life, faith, the Bible, meaning, God, purpose, and more.

One of the passions of my life is to help people engage the Bible in a real way... 
         taking it off of the shelf or out of the pew rack and putting it into their daily lives and thinking... 

Sometimes I will be serious with them. Sometimes I will be humorous. At all times, my intention is to be faithful to what the Bible reveals about God and his will for each us as part of his good and dearly loved creation.

One of my favorite quotes comes from William Willimon... it strikes a sympathetic chord in me - and I hope it will in you.

"The good news of Jesus is so odd that we never get so used to hearing it or living in accordance with it that we don't need to hear it again."

What do you think? Can we hear the Good News - the words and story of the Bible - enough? Or is there always room for a bit more?

Something to ponder....
 
There's a burden that comes when you set your life toward God.

Once you've taken those first, tentative steps of faith - not sure what it all means or where it will take you, either in the short term or ultimately - your life is no longer your own.  What you do, why you do it, how and even when you do whatever it is you do has a meaning, an importance far beyond you....

"You are not your own," the Apostle Paul says, "you were bought with a price."  And, what a Price!

When you set your life toward God, your decisions matter more.  "You are not your own..." and neither are your decisions. Or the consequences of those decisions.

When you set your life toward God, your "yes" should be "yes" and your "no" should be "no"... and your "maybe" should not be a simple way to brush someone off or to push a decision down the road for another day.  Your "maybe" should be the opening to prayerful, thoughtful, honest and ethical consideration and seeking.

When you set your life toward God, the burden of significance rests on your shoulders... reminding you that 

     You are not your own
     Your life is not just about you
     Your decisions matter, and 
     The impact of your life sends ripples into the lives of all those you contact.

But - and here's the Good News - when you set your life toward God, the burden is not your's alone to bear.

"My yoke is easy, my burden is light," Jesus says to those who come to him 

     Weary of doing life by the world's definition
     Laden down with the burdens of a self-focused understanding of purpose and even life itself.

The burden that comes when you set your life toward God is the "weight of glory"...

     The pressing in of the Holy Spirit's presence
     The gravity of being conformed to the image of Christ, and
     The substance of the God of the Universe being real and present and involved in your actual life.

The burden changes you.
Thanks be to God.