And never be the same...

Pastoral Epiphany

June 10, 2007

A vending machine of God

I am not

No slot for quarters

No chutes of spiritual sweetness

Dispensing divinity

Guaranteed to satisfy

At times people see me thus

I hate it

Mostly when I’m empty

When sweetness is hard to find

Quarters overflow

Yet there is nothing to give

And a line of those who want

Then, in a moment of grace

Insight comes, ripping scabs from eyes and heart

I see the truth

I like it too

Being a source 

Supplying quantities of God yet consuming none

Prepackaged Jesus, clean and sterile

Spiritual truth sealed in bags

A God contained

There is a joy in teaching 

Free from pain of being taught

Truth observed but not encountered

Analyzed, but paralyzed

You do not build another’s stones of remembrance

There is no life in living truth for others

If you handle fire you will be burned

Scars will evidence lessons learned

A vending machine God does not need

Maybe yet, a cup, albeit cracked

Filling, spilling, overflowing

Telling of the God I know

In hopes that they will someday go

To meet Him for themselves

And never be the same.