Philippians 4: 8

         I gazed out the window, pensive, worried about a seemingly impossible decision when I saw my twelve year old, walking across our front yard, with a look of carefree wonderment upon his face that said I am still a little boy and life is good because I am alive and can’t really even conceive of death.  The grass is wet between my toes and mommy is making pancakes in the kitchen. This is my home and it’s too early in the day to be bored.  His expression of exhilaration and contentment took me back to my own childhood because once upon a time (just like you) impossible dreams fueled my imagination, the knowledge that I was secure made me brave, and I couldn’t hate anyone or anything --- at least for long.

         I guess Thomas Merton was right, “when we are alone on a starlit night, when by chance we see the migrating birds in autumn descending on a grove of junipers to rest and eat; when we see children in a moment when they are really children, when we know love in our own hearts; or when, like the Japanese poet, Basho, we hear an old frog land in a quiet pond with a solitary splash - at such times the awakening, the turning inside out of all values, the "newness," the emptiness and the purity of vision that make themselves evident, all these provide a glimpse into the cosmic dance.” 

         In other words, all the beauty in this world reminds us of God who is good and worthy of praise.  Then again, beauty is in the eye of the beholder, isn’t it?  And the fact that cable news details death and decay 24-7, and that people can hate and hate so cruelly (behind the façade of their self-righteous "if you only knew smugness") makes me wonder at times if there is any rhyme or reason to life.  Sometimes I agree with Barbara Kingsolver who writes, “Why does a person even get up in the morning?  You have breakfast, you floss your teeth so you'll have healthy gums in your old age, and then you get in your car and drive down I-10 and die.  Life is so stupid I can't stand it.” 

       I don't suppose such a thought worthy of God, whose truth and goodness and excellence can be seen even within the fallen created order, and most especially in life of a man named Jesus.  In his final comments to the church at Philippi, the apostle Paul encourages his brothers and sisters to think thoughts worthy of God.  Philippians 4: 8 wasn’t written to serve as the gold standard of ethical discussions, nor does this familiar verse promote the Pollyanna, pie-in-the-sky power of positive thinking, but the apostle’s sound exhortation does blunt the negativity of a God-denying world as well as my own deceitful hearts. 

Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.

 

I think I'll give it a try.