Monday, August 24, 2020     Feast of Saint Bartholomew, Apostle          (Today’s lectionary)
Jasper, clear as crystal
Jerusalem came down out of heaven and gleamed with the splendor of God.
Its radiance was like that of a precious stone,
Like Jasper, clear as crystal.
That’s our grandson, there, see? Coming down from heaven! Shining in the sun, polished up like a jewel, precious, precious, precious.
After Jasper was born in July last year, Margaret flew off to Austin, while I drove. Taking an extra hour or two, I detoured through Jasper, Texas and took pictures of every “Jasper” sign I could find. It was Sunday morning, and I sat outside the Angelina National Forest beside the largest lake in Texas, listening to Steven Baker’s sermon from the Church of Jasper, which came in as clear as crystal.
Let all your works give you thanks, O God, and let your faithful ones bless you.
We will discourse of the glory of your Kingdom and speak loudly of your might.
Now, a year later, on Saturday night we sat around our backyard campfire with Laura and Cynthia, roasting marshmallows and eating watermelon, recovering from very strong Hemingway daiquiris and incredible, homemade, 15-hours-in-the-smoker pulled pork sandwiches. The August sun set, eight chickens made their way to the roosting bar for the night, and our next door neighbor George, sitting in his car, played a southern gospel-preaching radio station. Loud black preacher-inflections rose and fell to the congregation’s chants of “Thank you, Jesus.” End-time warnings and calls to holiness echoed and rang. The music of that sermon poured right in through my soul.
I remembered my Sunday morning outside Jasper, and driving the Natchez Trace through Mississippi on the way home, and reading about the slaves freed in the wake of Sherman’s March through Georgia, winding their way along, without baggage and singing songs to God, overjoyed with no idea where they were going. No matter, no problem. No food, nowhere to lay their heads. God would provide. They were moving toward the promised land.
It had a massive high wall with twelve gates
Where twelve angels were stationed to protect the children of Israel.
There were three gates facing east, three facing north, three facing south, and three facing west.
Cries of joy and shouts of victory echo through the Angelina National Forest. They echo in our backyard, piped in from next door. They echo in last year’s Mississippi memories, and in my imaginations of Georgia of 1864, and they echo still. Angels beckon, archangels raise their trumpets, we lift our voices into song. Praise God from whom all blessings flow.
We will make known to men your might.
Your kingdom is a Kingdom for all ages
And your dominion endures through all generations.
Jasper was one just a few weeks ago. As he figured out what to do with his sweet smash cake, he let out with more of those victory shouts. Yesterday we saw a picture his mama Andi took of him holding his own first whole kolache, a Saturday morning family tradition. She said he ate the whole thing! Jasper’s smile broke over us like an Austin sunrise. Ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya-ya!
The Lord is just in all his ways and holy in his works.
The Lord is near and we will call upon him in truth.
For the next few years Jasper’s job will be to grow up like a fig tree, like a willow by the stream. His jubilant laughter and shouting will surely slowly clarify into words Japanese and English, single syllables at first, then more.
But words need not obscure mystery. Jesus hangs out with Miles and Jasper, and He says to them as he said to his new friend Bartholomew:
Come out from under that fig tree, my sweet sons. You are about to see great things. Jasper and Miles, you are going to see heaven opened. You will see angels of God coming through the gates from north and south and east and west. The angels will be rising and descending right here, right now.
Do not be afraid. Be glad!
Keep your eyes open, even as they sometimes grow dim with disappointments or confusion or grief. Give them time to clear. See what God has given you to see.
(Revelation 21, Psalm 145, John 1)
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