Old folks and cigars

It occurred to me the other day that old folks and cigars have a lot in common:

1.  Used to be you'd see people enjoying a lot of both on the front porches of homes up and down the street.  Now, not so much.  Seems like "society" has decided that old folks and cigars alike should be kept away from the general populace.  We've set up "designated smoking areas" and "designated old-folks areas" where people may still furtively enjoy one or the other, if they so choose.

2.  Some people think they smell funny.  And some of them do.

3.  Cigars and old folks slow you down.  It takes time to sit and enjoy a cigar, just like it takes time to sit and enjoy someone who just doesn't give a damn about hurrying around at a socially-acceptable, properly-productive rate of speed.

4.  Cigars and old folks have intrinsic value that is unrelated to what they do, or how much they contribute, or how much they cost.  Yesterday I smoked a cigar that I received as a gift.  I have seen that cigar selling for $20.00, though I suppose a savvy shopper could find them for less.  I enjoyed every minute of the 2 hours it took to burn through it.  I didn't enjoy it because it could have cost $20.00 - I enjoyed it because it was a really, really good cigar (My Father 2010 Limited Edition, if you're wondering).  Some people might buy that cigar because it is produced in small quantities, costs a lot, and comes individually-packaged in its own lovely little Spanish cedar box (commonly referred to as a coffin) - a collectible.  If I ever can see my way clear to buy a $20.00 cigar, it will be because I intend to enjoy every puff of smoke it can produce, not because I want to be able to say, "I have a My Father LE Coffin in the humidor."  Old folks - and people in general, of course - aren't commodities or collectibles, though we can sometimes look at them that way.

5.  Some of them really do smell funny.  Oddly, though, many of those funny-smelling cigars taste great, and make great companions for an afternoon smoke.  I wonder if some of those funny-smelling old folks might make the best companions for an afternoon visit.

6.  There's a lot of back-story to each of them.  From birth to death, cigars and people go a fair number of places, and experience a lot of stuff.  You can't just ask a cigar where it was born, where it has been, who has influenced its development.  You have to smoke it, patiently and carefully analyzing and enjoying each puff of smoke.  If you do this well, you can taste the richness of the soil that gave birth to the leaves.  You'll find hints of the long history of tobacco's cultivation.  You'll notice the care of the grower, the harvester, the blender, the roller.  You'll experience the value of proper aging.  You'll understand a little of how mankind turns the God-given elements of earth, wind, fire, and water into an afternoon's enjoyment.  You can't pry this information out of the cigar - it has to share with you on its own terms.  Spend some time with people, and you'll find out that who they are is rooted in who their families have been.  Where they now sit is greatly a function of where they have walked.  You can find out what one person has done with the God-given elements of genetics and environment.  And maybe find more than an afternoon's enjoyment in the process.

Remembrances

He makes grass grow for the cattle,
   and plants for people to cultivate—
   bringing forth food from the earth:
wine that gladdens human hearts,
   oil to make their faces shine,
   and bread that sustains their hearts.     Psalm 104:14-15 (NIV)


For I received from the Lord what I also passed on to you: The Lord Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, took bread, and when he had given thanks, he broke it and said, “This is my body, which is for you; do this in remembrance of me.” In the same way, after supper he took the cup, saying, “This cup is the new covenant in my blood; do this, whenever you drink it, in remembrance of me.” For whenever you eat this bread and drink this cup, you proclaim the Lord’s death until he comes. 
I Corinthians 11:23-26 (NIV)

I find it interesting that of all the elements of the Passover Feast, each with its own deep and unique symbolic meaning in Israel's redemption saga, Jesus gave special significance to the bread and the wine.  Especially noteworthy, I think, because wine was not even part of the original Passover celebration, but was added sometime later.

Perhaps one of these "remembrances" should be this: God gave bread to strengthen the hearts of mankind, and wine to bring joy to their hearts.  And Jesus gave his own body and blood to be the bread and wine that fills the redeemed heart with strength and joy.

Don't get me started on whether a miserable morsel of flavorless bread can in any way represent the strength of God's rich provision.  Or whether a stingy sip of reconstituted grape juice can even hope to bring to remembrance the joy of God's amazing gift.  Spiritually or physically!

Redemption's Dance

And when Jesus had cried out again in a loud voice, he gave up his spirit.  At that moment the curtain of the temple was torn in two from top to bottom. The earth shook, the rocks split and the tombs broke open.  The bodies of many holy people who had died were raised to life.  (Matthew 27:50-52)

The curtain was torn (perhaps from the inside?), and Glory danced out.  His feet struck the ground, ever-so-lightly and gracefully; but still the earth was shaken - so powerful is His step, so holy His touch.  Massive rocks split and shattered beneath His irresistible dancing.  The rhythm of His movements thrummed a sympathetic chord in long-dead hearts, and they began to beat to its cadence.  Graves could not hold back this new life, and they, too, were torn open.  The no-longer-dead sprang from the ground to join the great, eternal dance of grace.

Come, join the Dance!

Redemption's Dance, the great and mysterious perichoresis, is not like taking a few salsa lessons on a cruise ship and then saying, "I've danced."  This is daily, moment-by-moment letting His nail-ripped hands take us, guide us, and hold us in the Dance.  It is daily, moment-by-moment learning to follow His every lead.  It's not just a lifetime of learning and sharpening our skill in - and enjoyment of - the Dance.  It's eternal.

Come, join the Dance!

Redemption's Dance neither began nor ended with some "born-again" moment.  It reached no climactic moment at the point of some mystical experience or healing miracle or outpouring of power.  It began before the earth spun from God's hand.  In fact, in a mysterious way, the Dance gave birth to human life in the very beginning, just as it patiently works, every moment, its intricate designs to give new life to hearts and spirits buried in graves of darkness.  And when those hearts come to life, the Dance calls them to join, to celebrate Redemption's New Life.  Forever.

And ever.

And then some ...

Come, join the Dance!