Fix Your Gaze Upon Me

Just fix your gaze upon Me,
The Lover of your soul,
I’m the Truth that sets you free,
Restoring joy darkness stole,
Renew in My charity,
Just be still and draw to Me.

I’m the Way that makes you whole,
Alpha and Omega,
The Lamb that breaks the scrolls,
Found in hands of beggars.

Unite in my redemption,
Taste and see what I control,
I Am Life and Ressurction.

Come to me and be lifted up,
And drink deep from my saving cup.

by Chris Clody
7/13/2018

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Screen Door In A Submarine

Truly installing a screen door in a submarine is like faith without works.

Let that sink in…

How many of us have lined-up, bowing our heads in vanity and blindly chosen to silently follow in-step waving this submersible’s one way ticket.

What is the fruit of our works encompassing all our thoughts and prayers, words and actions, and convictions that offer others, regardless of their state of being, a hopeful consolation? How close to the river of charity do we choose to take root in gratitude? Has the political sieve of reason that polarizes our culture justified the conditions that limit the dignity of certain Image-bearers?

Is inherent human dignity mercifully gifted within creation or determined by creation itself as a reasonable right? Would the mind of Jesus be amazed by desire for gratitude or astonished by the disconnect between faith and charity?

If we truly carry about in our body the death of Jesus so His life will bear His reckless love of neighbor towards God, then shouldn’t true charity become the disciple’s overwhelming light that chases away the shadows of our conditional love?

How often my deepest prayers measure my selfless and selfish motivations against the matchless work of divine love.

One day we will all drink that final cup that will curse or bless. In that moment of consumption upon bowed-knees we will instantly see the brightness of our healed souls or dimness of our unworthy judgments through dim eyes. There is no negotiation from silent tongues before the One, Holy voice who joyfully welcomes in friendship or simply says He knew us. How I pray this same voice is familiar to you now. If it is not, seek an answer in humble prayer and desire to taste and see the goodness of God.

His work in progresss,

Chris

Praying Their Tomb Will Be Left Empty


The waters in the Tham Luang cave, that imprisons 12 boys and their soccer coach, continue to evoke my constant prayers. Despite nothing short of human ingenuity and tireless will of rescue efforts, the onslaught of ominous downpours await like the still before a storm.

My prayers are answered in a variety of possibilities that seek to plumb the rationale behind the omniscient gaze of God. I fully trust that His mercy has accounted for every fearful thought as the depleting oxygen drawn in the shivering darkness of this damp tomb.

My endless petitions fervently plead:

“Lord, will you push back these waters like the Red Sea or Jordan River in response to trusting prayer?”

Or,

“Bessed Spirit, will you continue to strengthen the resolve of heart, mind, strength, and soul of the rescuers to negotiate the exodus from this living nightmare?”

Or,

“ABBA! Will You permit the lives of your Image bearers, like that Navy Seal, to be lost for a greater purpose that I may not even understand?”

Ultimately, my prayers bundled with our global family, must necessarily rise to redemption of all souls regardless of the outcome. The patience and true charity that completely composes the matchless love of our eternal Trinity has planned or permits mystifies creation grasping at hope and courageously leaping in faith.

For these desperate and incessant moments of thought to negotiate an understanding is still our reason to give thanks. For when humanity confronts such enormous oppression to our mortality our heart must gratefully rest in divinity’s inexplainable peace. Surely, the Holy God, Holy Mighty One, and Holy Immortal One does not require our understanding to prove His faithfulness. However, like a loving parent and loyal brother, Christ wants to hear our hearts of faith. Let us not despair into our condemnation of a faithless generation but cry out in boldness for even the rocks we walk on know better.

Be brave and trust that God is near and post your prayers today however long our souls united to the souls of the soccer team endures this profound tribulation.

His,

Chris

Not My Jesus?

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I listened to a podcast called Evangibros that I highly recommend.  I encourage all to listen to one in particular regarding the confrontation of racism.  The link is below:

https://www.facebook.com/evangebros/

Why? Because it is challenging, deeply thought provoking, and hopefully uncomfortable.  The hosts, Don M. Schiewer and George M. Benson invite a very close friend’s of Don named Chris Sanchez.  I have intentionally prayed, fasted, and gratefully sat in silence in hopes to see and experience the hurt in not just Chris’ eyes but also through the rejected Nazorean.  The hope of this podcast is to invite all respectful discussion with open ears, minds, and hearts.  For the ‘privileged’, like myself, it is simply best to be still and silent.  And so I have, for many days pleading in silent prayer to combine my experiences with Chris’ knowing we are more like Christ when we seek community despite our various differences.

The first stone cast by Chris towards my already broken glass house of piety crashed in as a reminder of how oppression blossoms within Liberation theology.  Ancient Jewish perspectives, and yes Jesus was a Jew, draws Western Christianity kicking and screaming into the forgotten Jewish mindset of the blood, sweat, and heavy tears wrought by enslaved captivity.  Way back then, daily life was lined with rotting corpses pegged and tied to crosses on many Roman roads dominating this culture of oppression and racism.

I have replayed the words gracefully spoken by Chris over and over in my prayers and recognized that beautiful portion of Liberation theology within my own reality and my personal intimacy with Jesus the rebuilds the castle in my heart starting with a rejected cornerstone.  Dare we consider that all lines measurements and lines founding this church are trued from this one stone? Boldly, I say “Yes!”  I bless the words and work of Chris and will continue to pray towards a reparation for the sins of our own nation.

I cannot help but see that Liberation theology is a very human hope firmly adopted by the promise revealed at Mt. Sinai.  It was a necessary theology of hope of healing the sickness of hate, greed, and power nurturing racism both then and now. My rub with Chris came quickly in the program when he rightfully said, “You don’t have a right to criticize the how he protests nor why (paraphrasing here). Furthermore Chris’ quote preceding this the program stated:

“If your not showing up where the oppressed exists and are moving, then I’m not interested in your gospel; I’m not interested in your Jesus.”

Ouch.

Seriously America, we have wannabe Nazis parading and spewing their hateful rhetoric. When did vomiting this vile ideology that our Nation (was way too slow) to war against now require police protection at tax-payers expense for a sick minority’s freedom of speech? Chris was there protesting. Thank you my friend. Chris also said it felt good to release his anger and yelling at the wave of right hands raised in salutes to “Heil Hitler!”

This is certainly not my America…

My rub with Chris? Protesting is a double edge sword glimmering with both edges of the sacred and profane. My very needed portion of my conversation with Chris is discuss the dark seduction of protesting even he unknowingly admitted to when it felt good to release whatever brought some catharsis.  So what would Jesus do Chris? ( I apologize for what may seem as a very trite question I assure you it is not.)  The sacred consciousness that inspires Chris to protest is surely from above since silence conspires with acceptance of oppression. Yet, I have serious concerns for limiting one’s Christianity to Liberation theology.  Jesus is still doing something new. The work of this living Christ of God is still perfecting holiness within. No?  Does the end justify the means?  Does trading violence with violence beget peace? “Our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.” (Ephesians 6:12)  Did not our Jesus conquer this darkness by solely trusting His Father by offering perfect love as a perfect sacrifice?

So… Do I know a different gospel or a different Jesus?

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His,

Chris (Clody)

 

Hawks on the hill

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Patient, are his long shadows,
spreading like fingers,
resisting the sun.
Until,….
the hunt begins.

Blind are his prey.
That scuttle below,
these Hawks on the hill.
Silent dark sentinels,
staring omnisciently,
blotting out the sun.

Yet,
I and a few souls see them,
we watch
and inevitably wait.

Their gaze,
is a searing burn,
their hungry caw,
soon shivers my soul.

The hour comes,
like a thief,
filling blue sky.
with small black crosses,
swirling above…

Their lethargic prey,
amble nose to ground,
gorging full bellies,
distracted and unaware,
to what plummets above.

Talons spread,
barely whistling,
through the cool, rush of wind.
Immediately crushing,
then piercing,
the hunted.

The quick kill,
is painless,
like a hot knife,
through warm butter.

Yet,
I see their precision,
an exquisite scalpel to the tumor,
and watch,
wide-eyed,
their kill.

Looking up at me,
with satisfied gazes,
that scorch my skin.
Contentment proceeds,
with a quiet laugh,
as my soul takes notice.

The Hawk,
arises with severed flesh,
leaving just a scar,
to tighten skin,
to widen pores,
and pull upon senses.

The hunted are left,
miraculously healed,
that is,
until tomorrow…

Dreams begin,
awakening the hunted,
to a newer normal,
a different reality,
a new way to forage.

For tomorrow transforms,
through stretched skin,
making the hunted,
a little less blind,
and a bit less deaf.

Blessed are the hunted.

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By Chris Clody
3/16/18

Why God?

With recent violent events, doubt of God finds a well worn path into hands clenched in prayer. It also feeds a disparate clarion call to atheism. Both perspectives distill down to an Ancient Prosecutor ironically pointing a finger proclaiming, “Why would God allow evil?” The air-time through social debate continues to rage exploding to a fevered pitch while ignoring the simple physics of an opposite and equal question, “Why would God allow good?” As if “good” simply generates itself and abstract evil is the only worthwhile conversation.

Is that really fair or at least logical? I would wager everything I “possess” in challenging the now prayerfully wounded or skeptical hearts in daring to consider when good things happen. If this contemplation was allowed equal entrance into the weary conscience, fearlessness would replace doubt allowing depthless diving of thought into the ever-expanding nature of a loving God.

So, let’s take a breath in both good and bad times an remember His hope in the logos,Be still and know I am God.”

The First Ecstasy

imagesmarystatueface (1)“Let it be done unto me.” O Mother how your words changed faith to hope. What was it like Mother? To be overshadowed, completely enveloped in the embrace of the Trinity? Reveal to me Mary the warmth and the light that captured you in ecstasy between creature and Creator! Who, but a favored soul, determined before all time, could stand in the rapture of pure love of indescribable joy? To know that your humility would impart innocent flesh to God’s perfect sacrifice requiring perfect love. What was it like to witness the Trinity transfigured about you while infused with the knowledge to hold this moment close to your heart. Still, for those eyes undimmed by doubt, your immaculate heart can be seen like John beholding the Lamb of God for the very first time. Just as it was with Simeon and Anna, the prophetess, who recognized the consolation of Israel when the infant Savior was brought to the temple. Yet it was Simeon who saw your heart, the favored one beating in tandem with the Holy One of Israel. Two hearts, the sacred and the immaculate inexplicably bound, synchronized in love. Foreseeing the very sword that pierced your Holy Son would forever martyr your immaculate one so your thoughts could be revealed to the generations that call you blessed. Hastened by irresistible charity to assist your once-barren cousin at the sixth month of her anointed pregnancy, it was not only Elizabeth that recognized the approach of your favored heart, but her unborn John who leapt at the tandem heartbeats of humility and promise proceeded by the Spirit’s warmth. Just as John the Baptist was pre-elected by the Father to clear a path for His Begotten, Mother, you were deemed ever more so. Simeon and Anna both envisioned the contradiction that you carried, one that would cause the rise and fall of many men. It seemed apropos and justly ironic that your fiat of blind trust to carry this world’s redeemer, for which no hospitality was offered in time of delivery, that you therefore accepted without hesitation in the ark of your favored womb. How you now reveal the wonders of your favor Mother, that transform the Ark of the Covenant with your sacred flesh anointed before time began. How two cherubim surely overlooked your every step preventing any man’s touch to corrupt what God had made holy and perfect. For it was not only your flesh that you imparted to the Begotten in perfect harmony with the Spirit but also your humility that the Father favored you to share.
To have this revealed in words is surely but a shadow… but to live through is pure ecstasy. I can now only surmise the moments of ‘ecstasy’ described in other lives following your God-man’s footsteps are but a tearful glimpse of the moment you and the Trinity joined as One.
Bless you Mother.

His,
Chris