Wading through life

I wrote this for this past weekend’s services at Westwinds Community Church. They asked three people to write from the perspective of three Old Testament Jews. Mine was to be written from the perspective of the High Priest preparing to enter the Most Holy Place on the Day of Atonement. It was read over the sound system as a disembodied voice in a darkened sanctuary, followed by a time of meditation.

It was somewhat challenging to write, but it was also rewarding and turned into a good personal devotion/meditation time. I rarely take the time to try and put myself into the shoes of a biblical character as I did to write this. It’s obviously all speculation, but I think it’s how I might feel were I to enter into the Most Holy Place.

The thought…unbearable: That I would be petitioned for such a time as this—a time when Yahweh makes atonement for the sins of Israel through me, the high priest. The thought that I alone bear the sins of the nation and make restitution with the Holy God for all—it frightens me; it scares me; it haunts me.

Who am I to bear the sins of many? Who am I to enter into the Most Holy Place, and witness the presence of Yahweh? Who am I to encounter the Ark of the Covenant—which alone can level mountains and part waters?

Worthy or not, the day has come and the petition stands: one must meet Yahweh in the Most Holy Place and that one must be me.

I wash. And I wash some more. I wash until my skin is raw and hurts. The dirt, the smell—they don’t compare to the sin. The sin is what I must cleanse myself of before I enter, for sin is the reason for this all.

Dissatisfied with my purity, I emerge from the water with a heavy spirit; a weight rests upon me I long to abandon. I look about at the stark faces of my people and the weight only increases.

I clothe my skin with linen: tunic, trousers, turban and sash. Priestly garments? No. But holy garments? Quite. This is not a day to be a priest—but a day to be holy.

The system so complex, yet so simple: A God of power and might longs to be with his people—to fellowship with them as in the Garden—but unable to do so because of the rift our choices make. The system requires blood be shed and atonement made to mend the relationship and restore the fellowship.

Dripping with anxious sweat and numbed by nervous chills, I slay a bull, then a ram—all beasts without blemish. I make perfect sacrifice and ultimate atonement for the sins of myself and my family.

I do this not because I understand the mystery of Yahweh and logic of the system. But I do this because the LORD has asked this of me. I do this in awe and wonder and reverence because this is what must be done, lest we die.

A goat must be slain, but not yet. It must wait until after incense is offered. I chose two and cast lots for the last. One will die, one will walk. One will be sacrificed for the sins of all and one will carry them away.

My pulse speeds and my mind races as I prepare the censer with burning altar coals and grind sweet incense. I do this methodically and thoroughly, for I know the cloud it will form will keep me alive. It will be the only barrier between me and Yahweh.

Weak with anticipation, I turn and face the temple. Each step forward exposes the battlefield that is my mind. I long this day to be over, for my encounter with God to have passed. I long for the time when my priestly role will be deemed unnecessary by Yahweh—the day when another system is in place.

As I pass into the Holy Place, I discover new-found strength…but with it new-found fear.

Veils stand before me. The glory of the LORD I can not behold, but his presence saturates the air I consume.

And I enter the Most Holy Place…knees trembling…heart pounding…breathless.

Well, judging from the 5-fold increase of visitors to my blog lately, it seems many followed the Westwinds community e-mail path here to check out some random blog Amy highlighted. It belonged to some Joel guy most of you had never heard of…but she claimed he had his hand in some things at the church.

I guess that’s good in a lot of ways. For one, it proves some people actually read to the very bottom of Amy’s messages since that’s where my plug was inserted. Two: I got some free exposure for my photographs and possibly increased my blog readership another person or two. Three: it will allow some of you to get to know a fellow member of the Body. Four: it places increased pressure on me to come up with something snappy to say on here.

Actually, that’s not really a good thing. Here I am, typing for the sake of typing, spinning my wheels trying to say something useful mostly because I haven’t updated in three days and don’t want people to get bored following my blog.

So, I guess I’ll go back to what I usually write about: what God’s doing in my life. And three things come to mind:

1. I realized–Tuesday I think–that my moods are almost entirely under my control. For a person like myself to realize this is quite freeing. I used to be confused about why I would respond to situations and have the moody days I would have year after year. It seems to be that I’ve simply LET myself.
2. God can often be a Hallmark god for people–including myself. He’s turned to for the special occasions. But you know what’s exciting: he cares about everything, because everything is of eternal significance.
3. And third: I’m rereading Waking the Dead, which we’re working through as a small group. Eldridge often talks about how we’re all special and have a unique role to play in the Great Story God has written. Stuff like that. The revelation came to me that I usually judge how "special" my life is and how significant my role is based on the roles of the people around me. If I don’t perceive my life to be of more significance than person x… well, I must not be that special.

   But I now understand that the role of each person is significant and important because God specifically wrote that character into the script. I’m no playwright, but I doubt many bother to develop characters that are expendable. If the play could be as effective without them–why spend the energy developing them?

   It’s mostly a perspective thing. I’m continually being taught what it means to shift it from man to God. And it’s very freeing.

So, if you’re a new or seasoned visitor, thanks for stopping by for the first time or the fiftieth. I will now spell check to help avoid embarrassing myself.

I couldn’t help but notice parallels between what was going through my head when I wrote my creation statement and what Christ Tomlin expresses in these lyrics for "You Make All Things Well," which we sang Sunday at Westwinds.

Mountain maker
Ocean tamer
Glimpses of You
Burn in my eyes
The worship of heaven
Fills up the skies 

You made it all
Said, "let there be"
And there was
All that we see
The sound of Your voice
The works of Your hands
You do all things well
You do all things well
You do all things well 

Star creator
Wind breather
The strokes of Your beauty
Brushed through the clouds
Light from the heavens
Touching the ground 

Imagination runs wild
And breathes the breath of life
Across the fields
Across the miles

(I drafted this creative statement to accompany my photos at Stir last night in Albion. Read it and check out my pics here: http://photos.joelmaust.com/gallery/404964.)

I create because I was created.

Made in the image of God, our first longing should be to perform the act he first performed: create—and create with love and beauty and excellence, just as He did.

Our creations should be an outpouring of our passions, just like His were. They should reveal intricacies of the creator, just as His do. And they should be warred for and worthy of sacrifice, just as His are.

Our creations should be both complex and simple, both bold and subtle. They should shout and whisper, declare and conceal, cloud and unearth. Both mystery and revelation should emerge from our creations; surprise and understanding should be expected.

Creating is good, good, good, good, good and good. Creating wasn’t so much a choice of God’s as it was a product of who He is. And so it should be with us.

Chesterton says we are "statues of God walking about in a Garden." If creating was one of God’s most effective means of communicating love, then it must be one of ours, too.

The heavens were God’s creative palette—the earth is now ours.

Go, therefore, and create. Create with all the power and majesty and honor bestowed to you by your Maker. Burn for your creations, just as He does. Dream of your creations and love them, just like Him. Fill your days upon days with creativity, as He did.

And then rest and enjoy your creations—like Him.

Create because you were created.

(See me pictures here: http://photos.joelmaust.com/gallery/404964.)

For those of you not fortunate enough to be in the Michigan area, you’ll be unlikely to attend an extremely informal “art show” I have tomorrow. I’m hanging some new work in a church I attend on occasion and several friends attend regularly. They have a coffeehouse bi-monthly and like to feature a different artist each time to help set some atmosphere.

I’ll post a link to the complete virtual gallery upon it’s completion tomorrow night, along with the “artist’s statement” I wrote. But for now, I’ll leave you a teaser of one of my new images.

Directions for those who want the real deal? Plug your address into this handy thing I’ve set up for you.