rites of passage

if we have lost one thing in our modern culture, it is rites of passage.

moving from childhood to adulthood is done quietly and with out much fanfare anymore. there is a recognition of grads...they get to wear their cap and gowns in church. we do celebrate marriage with drunken evenings, but that is about it.

when my son left home and moved out on his own, we had a family service and sent him out to serve the god of his father. i laid my hands on him, blessed him in jesus name and sent him out as a man. just like Isaac did. just like Jacob did. i am not sure it meant much to my son, but i will never forget it.

tonight, we celebrated a friends ordination.

as i laid my hands on him to pray, it hit me between the eyes. we were participating in the same event that had happend to timothy. there is heritage in that, deep roots in the christian faith. a rite of passage.

as we gloss over many of the traditions that have been in our faith, we must remember that it is in the remeberance of traditions that keep us connected. lest we become to modern and forget our heritage and beginings.

i remembered when i was ordained. as i took my place amoung the thousands who came before me and with my brothers who will come, i recall the laying on of hands and fan into flame the fire that is deep within my soul. i was reminded again tonight, the possibility and opportunity to be called a minister of the gospel. i also remembered the heaviness of responsibility, the reality of teaching true biblical principles, the accountability of being ready and righteous. the harsh ness of a confrontational salvation.

some one asked what his calling was. it made me think of my own...expanding the minds understanding of who god his, what his word says, and how i should live in view of those truths.

it is not ours to rewrite what the early fathers have written, only to continue the conversation. it is not ours to leave the church, but build her up in love and leadership.

taking our place amoung the faithful of god ties me directly with the prophets of old, the disciples and great men who have given their lives for the gospel.

i miss the days when stories were told of great rites of passage. i miss the days when it meant something to be part of a community of faith. i miss the stories of great moves of god that were told around a table or a fire.

oh that we would treasure the passages from one phase to another, one age to another.

on another note...my first grandaughter was born yesterday.

meet Ava Rowan...i have not met her, but she has already wrapped me around her finger.

maybe, just maybe, it will be her and jackson that will change the world. maybe they will live with recklace abandon toward their god. maybe...