The Sword

On the night that Jesus Christ was arrested, he was in the presence of eleven men who had devoted themselves for the last three years to his message and to his life's work.

That night was a dangerous night. Peter, John, and the other guys could smell trouble coming; it was in the night air as thick as dew on dixie. The powers-that-be did not approve of what Jesus was up to, and they were out to get him.

After these zealous men had eaten their Passover meal with their fearless leader, they were talking about what might happen next. The dramatic events of previous days indicated that something terrible was going down. They could feel it in their bones that Jesus and his followers might suffer some dire consequences as a result of the unprecedented works of healing, teaching, and organizing they had been doing among their people. Their trepidation was not just idle paranoia, because Jesus was about to be hauled in to face charges of blasphemy and insurrection.

One of his disciples was a man named Peter. Peter was a fisherman by trade, a man of action, a provider, a doer; he was a go-getter, willing to go out and do whatever needed to be done to make happen whatever needed to happen. So when Peter, impetuous man that he was, discerned that danger was afoot, he began planning in his mind a strategy to act protectively on Jesus' behalf.

Now this little band of brothers had, among their minimal possessions, a couple of swords. Somebody informed Jesus that they they had these two swords, and they were wondering if maybe they should bring them along.

Jesus said: "It is enough."

Now I've been reading and hearing about this historical event all my life. I'm wondering what did Jesus mean by this cryptic, minimal answer when he was asked about the swords (and hence, whether it would be appropriate to use them.)

Think about it. What defense could be implemented with a couple of swords against Caesar's enforcers? Of what use are a couple of blades against the vast power of Roman law in cahoots with local religious power-players?

Jesus was like yeah whatever I don't wanna discuss it now. You don't get it do you, Peter? Just bring 'em along, whatever.

Subsequent events indicate, however, that Jesus was committed to his own strategy of non-violence. He knew what he had to do, and it did not involve taking up the Sword.

So a few hours later, when the actual arrest happened under cover of darkness in the garden of Gethsemane, one of the guys whipped out the sword and used it in Jesus' defense. As a result of that hasty reaction, a slave who was one the arresting officers suffered the loss of his ear. What a bloody omen that must have been to set the tone for what was about to happen.

But then Jesus nipped in the bud what might have been the beginning of a real insurrection. He told the impetuous disciple (many Christians believe the sword-wielder was Peter) to put the weapon away, and he said: ". . . for all those who take up the sword will perish by the sword."

Another cryptic remark from Jesus. Nevertheless, as a result of Jesus' insistence on non-violence on that fateful night, he went on to face charges (from the religious power-players) of blasphemy and (from the Romans) of insurrection.

The next day Jesus was condemned to death, then beaten and crucified. After a couple of days in the crypt, he was raised from being dead, and a worldwide religion was established on behalf of his redemptive life and work.

So we see from scriptures what Jesus did with the swords that his followers had brought along that night. He chose not to use them.

About 600 years later, another world religion was founded, which was to commemorate what Mohammed did.

So here's my question for you to consider: What did Mohammed do with his sword?

Sword of the Spirit

Smoke

From baroque Bach to funky Browne

My friend David Browne just consummated his latest musical project with a loving embrace of grace.


Beneath a canopy of powerfully eternal security, he and Patty had established a home base in our promised land many years ago. From that sacred place of intmacy, they were able to raise up a crop of fine young'uns, even as David persevered in the development of his God-ordained musical gifts. Together, the musician and his proverbs 31 bride smashed the glasses of postmodern musical conventionality, which dictates that musicians must confound their lives with exhaustive tours and frantic pursuits of musical success.

But not David. From a quiet place of intimacy with our Creator, D. Browne has been enabled, over the years, to fulfill multiple responsibilities as husband, father, businessman and good citizen; but he managed this legacy of faithful works while composing and recording a prodigious collection of original music.

Reminds me of J.S. Bach.
David Browne's life does parallel Bach; both have that sort of German knack for exquisite musical precision, although David displays his percussionist heart in a decidedly Abrahamic framework. You may even detect a mezuzah hung somewhere in his mezzo-tenored doorway. But as I was saying, the grand master Bach had managed, about three centuries ago, to glorify God in an intricately constructive way without losing sight of what is truly precious in this life.

As Johann had labored long ago at his clanky harpsichord or on some cloistered organ, so David, in our times, caresses and thumps out a toccata of masterful sound in his garage-top studio near the Atlantic Ocean in North Carolina. Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring gets a funky new rendering a few hundred years after the original.

Listening to the new cd, A Place I Go, is for me a little like opening some hobbit hole of contemporary Christian musical passion. Then this awesomely productive audio entity comes leaping out at you in a sound that's thick with warm, furry layers of complex virtuosity. I think the den of unique creativity in which David's labor of love began must have been hallowed out, originally, somewhere near that mountaintop lane--the one pictured in his cover photo. A swaddled child--one of the Browne kids--is seen in the pic going to that place where David goes, a place where he has wisely taken his wife and children. He will take you there too, if you'll give him a listen.

That place is a place of holy intimacy with the God who created us-- the Yahweh of Abraham, Elohim of Isaac, the El Shaddai of Jacob, whose Son was given as the Word made flesh, nailed to a cross and then resurrected, although David never actually mentions, in his tender dynamism, the name of Jesus. But you get the message. You know who he's singin' about--the One who walks with us closer than a brother.

A Place I Go is a sacrificial offering sent forth from the most holy place of profound grace. From his abode of redemption, the artist sends up a smoky thickness of rock-driven conviction, punctuated with delicate piano and smooth acoustic interludes. He even tosses in a dash of rap on "A Better Way," and a smattering of scatty electro-phased vocal, propelled by retrofuture cultural relativity funk on "When I think of you." My favorite is "Promised Land," which sojourns on the "ancient steps" upon which our great faith is founded.


Check out David's new labor of love; he is a unique composer with an expressive gift, and an intense love for our Creator. He is, however, meshugginah.

Glass half-Full