Puritan thinker William Gurnall shares this insight:

“Joseph’s coat made him finder than his bretheren, but it caused all his trouble; so great gifts lift a saint up a litter higher in the eyes of men, but they occasion many trials, from which thou who are low are exempt.”

It sort or reminds me of Spiderman’s “With great power comes great responsibility”. Gurnall is right. There is an absolute correlation between the intensity of a person’s gifts and the trials they will face because of them. For example people with trucks are constantly asked to haul stuff around for those without them. Or people with huge amounts of money have to constantly consider the motives of those around them.

And in the spiritual economy it’s barely different. The man with an exceptional insight, or prophetic bent, will undoubtedly stir the pot and earn some resentment from those who oppose his opinions. Or the one gifted as an evangelist will eventually have to flee for his life for exercising that gift.

I remember, as a new Christian feeling envious of those that I felt had greater spiritual gifts. Gurnall’s sentiment goes a long way to remind us that our gifts are tailored to each of us. Everyone’s gift comes at a cost and God has been deliberate to give each of us gifts of which we are able to carry the cost.

I’m sitting here at Caribou coffee on the patio outside. About 20 feet from me is a trio of high-school kids out from school for spring break. Two young women and a man. They’re a noisy bunch, so it’s hard not to overhear their conversation. Though I’m not complaining because it’s really interesting.

They talked about partying for a while. Then, they moved, surprisingly, into spiritual matters. One of the girls entered a verbal competition about who was a more hard-core Christian growing up. The girl insisted that she was more hard-core because she went to church every weekend, while the guy insisted that he was more hardcore because he read his bible every day. After not too long though, the girl said, “But you get to a point when you just realize, it’s all BS.”

The guy didn’t agree. But the three continued in their conversation. The girl argued that Christianity started with Catholics, then protestants came from them. She said that they learn in World History class that Catholicism has been proven wrong and that logically protestants must be wrong too.

I really wanted to join the conversation, but that would have been weird. Nonetheless, I learned (or at least remembered) three things from listening to their conversation.

1. It’s hard to argue against the idea that modern academia has a clear bent against religion.

2. The church hasn’t done a good job with the kids who are in their congregations. All three of these appeared to have been regular attendees, yet none of them had a clear picture of Church history, other than the skewed concepts from public school.

3. The church has lost her credibility in the world. Even including simple matters of historical fact, the Church is full of blind faith, while academia is full of facts. Even though this simply isn’t true, the world’s perception is important and the church isn’t fairing too well.

I first heard Engines by Gary Go a few months ago. It’s a good song. It’s clearly about a relationship with a woman. But the more I’ve heard it, I can’t help but drawing spiritual connections and interpretations. Especially after the first verse. But, it’s also just good songwriting.

(Can’t see the video? Watch it on YouTube!)

So this is where the engines start
Oh this is where we find the words I’ll never talk
Is this where the fuel runs out
Or the starting point to turn it round
Lift the brakes lets not waste time cause

Your love is my life
I don’t know why we’re fighting
When we’re on the same side
Stop here we’re stalling
I cant keep looking backwards
Gotta live for now not there
So engines can start again

Oh this is where the penny drops
We only seem to look for it when its lost
Oh there were times we made the traffic stop
But now the bright lights don’t notice us at all
Oh Lift the weights lets not waste time
With the little things that stop us moving

Cause your love is my life
I don’t know why we’re fighting
When we’re on the same side
Stop here we’re stalling
I cant keep looking backwards
Gotta live for now not there
So engines can start again

My happy memory is home
Back when the engines started on their own
Lost in so many different places
So many conversations
Faces I dont wanna face
Without your life in my life
I don’t know where were going
But I cant wait to arrive

Cause your love is my life
I dont know why were fighting
When we’re on the same side
Stop here were stalling
I cant keep looking backwards
Gotta live for now not there
So engines can start
So engines can start
Engines can start again   

I took a self evaluation test today to help develop some observations about my professional habits as a photographer. Here is a short excerpt from the feedback it provided:

“Stay conscious about your attitude. Ask yourself often (even now) what is ruling your heart. Is your good or bad day being determined by things outside of you or by your own decisions? This is a question you need to place at the forefront of your mind until it becomes your default habit.”

Of course, this is talking about my career. But it’s eerily applicable to my day in day out walk with the Lord.

And it does need to be placed ‘at the forefront’ of my mind everyday.

John 6:63:

“It is the Spirit who gives life; the flesh is no help at all. The words that I have spoken to you are spirit and life.”

Jesus has just given his famed “I am the bread of life…” speech to the men and women who were following him. The scripture says that after this, many of them turned away because the saying was so hard to swallow. This is part of Jesus’ response to their unbelief.

He is saying that the words they’re hearing were spiritual words. They were words for those who’d been quickened to hear them.

This follows his words earlier saying that unless they’re “drawn” (from the Greek word, Helkuo, meaning literally ‘to drag’) by the father, they cannot come and that all that the Father gives him, he will not lose (v.39 and v.44).

Jesus is teaching that He alone is the source of Life and that all there are no paths to God found in the flesh, but that without the Spirit of God the flesh is worthless in this venture.

I take great comfort in remembering this. Because the human tendency is to search for God with his flesh. But I know from experience that my flesh doesn’t lead me to God. It never has and, according to this, it never will. So, although I am a consistent failure in flesh, God is a constant victor in his Spirit in me.

This is a drug that I just learned about a few days ago. It’s ancient and was used by shamans and diviners to inspire “spirit walks” for personal revelation. The drug acts like a hallucinogenic, causing people who use it to experience lots of dissociative affects to various degrees. Some are really terrifying, some are peaceful, while some are something else altogether.

Here’s the really interesting thing about it, though. Here in Maryland, the substance is legal—to use and sell. In fact, just about every shop on the board walk in Ocean City sells it. Based on the variety of the affects it can have on users, it’s bizarre that it’s legal (not necessarily a decision I disagree with, but that discussion is for another post).

In my fascination with the substance, I’ve been reading many accounts of people’s experiences with it. It would seem that each person’s hallucination is tailor fitted to their own conscious life experience. For example, one overweight user described having to crawl out of his own mouth in his hallucination. While another, felt himself becoming a variety of household objects.

It’s no wonder that shamans and diviners would use this to send their followers on “spiritual journeys” of self-discovery. It would seem that the drug gives the user some abstract view into an inaccessible part of their conscious. Or perhaps even more.

As a Christian, I’m forced to ask questions about the drug and its application. It is an organic substance, so what design is there in the drug’s ability to do that, if any? What are we to think of the affects? Is there any legitimacy to Christians using the drug as an aid in their own spiritual quests?

Of course, I’m familiar with the answer that would likely come from most of the church today, “Heck no!”. But, I’m in a time in my walk with the Lord that I’m rethinking a lot of the Church’s knee-jerk answers to questions like these. In this specific situation, especially given the drug’s age, If there is spiritual legitimacy to the drug’s affects, it even seems reasonable to think that the drug could have aided John in his revelation, or Paul when he was caught up to the third heaven.

Of course, those are only speculations and, in my opinion, don’t cast doubt on the legitimacy of what they wrote, experienced or saw. But, could theoretically open a door to speculation about the drug itself.

Human beings are not entirely biological, or entirely spiritual. In fact, neither is mutually exclusive. Our physical and mental well being often ties tightly into our spiritual state. That’s why few would argue with the use of Asprin to ease a head-ache or Prozac to curb depression. If we accept these drugs as aids to our physical and spiritual well-being (so to speak) what might be the ramifications of presenting Salvia Divinorum for the same ultimate purpose?

I guess these are just questions that have been rolling through my head for the last few days. Questions that are usually moot, due to legal implications. But this time, they have to be asked. For the record, however, I have no intentions at this time of trying this drug. But for now, because these thoughts and questions remain, I also can’t entirely close the door in good conscience.

I don’t notice when I’m not sick. Inevitably, at least once a year, I think to myself, “Gosh Bill, you’re practically always sick.” This is usually during the worst of a bad cold or, at worst, the flu.

Well, last week I was sick. Then I started to get better. Now, I’m sick again. As I was laying down this evening to take a nap, I caught myself in that annual thought, thinking, “Gosh Bill, you’re always sick! What gives?” Then it occurred to me what was really going on. I only notice when I’m sick. I never lay healthy in my bed at night thinking, "boy it sure is nice to be healthy.”

From that, I thought about spiritual health. Most of the time, if I’m doing “well”, I don’t even notice. Sure, I stick to the basic spiritual disciplines, but my heart only kind of goes into it. But, in the times of struggle—apparent struggle—that’s when the spiritual disciplines I stick to really mean something.

It would seem that the reality is that in times of struggle and (seemingly) uphill battles with sin, the weak but real dependence on God is far greater and stronger and better than all the self-sustained “healthy times” combined. In fact, the times of potent reliance on God because of some trouble—even when I myself am the cause—is usually the real health.

I suppose the real difficulty is in learning to embrace times of difficulty, allowing holiness to grow from it—all the while, not slipping back into spiritual “health”.