Sunday Lunch

Made me some greens today. And bacon-grease cornbread, ham hocks, and a sliced raw Vidalia. Look:

Those are collard greens. Sometimes I get hocks that are so salty they mess up the greens, so today I started boiling the hocks separately, figuring I would get some of the salt out of them before adding them to the greens. Turned out they weren’t salty at all, so this was a total waste of time. I tossed them in with the greens and let them boil down.

I followed Paula Deen’s advice and snuck a little butter into the greens. Butter has a magical quality, as I have often said, mixing and accentuating flavors like no other fat I know.

I replaced a small amount of the bacon grease in the cornbread with butter. In retrospect, I think this was a mistake. Probably better to keep all the bacon grease and add butter anyway.

This was a magnificent lunch. It would have been better if the hocks had had some meat in them. They were almost all fat. This is not a bad thing, when you’ve learned to eat the fat, but the meat is also good.

If you’re planning to do this, it’s simple. Just boil the hocks and greens together. I add salt, a small amount of pepper, and a clove of garlic. Simmer until the hocks are soft, and make sure there isn’t much liquid left in the greens. You want it thick and tasty, especially when you sop it with the cornbread.

Very nice.

I have a nice food-related testimony.

A while back, I had to quit working at my church’s cafe. I didn’t make trouble. I just left and prayed. And I felt like something was telling me, “____ and ____ won’t be around long,” referring to a couple of people who had gotten in my way. I kept praying for God to provide a godly, humble, capable MALE servant to run the cafe.

A week or so ago I learned that a highly talented guitarist who volunteers at church was running the kitchen! This guy plays flamenco like you wouldn’t believe, and he also has some experience working in a restaurant. I finally went in and talked to him today, and he told me how he was going to get the place in line, and how he was putting and end to the slack, unprofessional things that drove me nuts. It was wonderful. I had to let him know about my prayers. I had to share my testimony, so he would know he didn’t end up there accidentally.

I’m going to help him any way I can. It looks like praying for his success is a good start.

The people who made things difficult for me no longer work there full-time. So that “voice” I thought I heard was real.

I am getting great answers to prayer these days. Our church promotes 40 days of fasting at the beginning of each year, and during this time, people who don’t fast can take up other productive things. This year I’m praying in the Spirit for 30 minutes a day, and I’m also spending 30 minutes praying and exerting faith for one particular goal. That goal changes from day to day. I find I run out of stuff to pray for, so I ask people if they have anything for me to send up.

Eight days ago, my friend Alonzo said his wife needed work. She had been out of work for 2 years. Yesterday they said she had two job offers! How about that?

I believe faith is a thing, like heat or charge or mass. The author of Hebrews called it a “substance,” using the Greek work “hupostasis,” which can mean a literal foundation, like the foundation of a house. I believe it’s the fundamental substance of which the universe, natural and supernatural, is built. I think God provides it to those who pray in the Spirit, charging them up like batteries, and I believe we release it when we pray. I think it goes back to God, and he shapes it into the things for which we pray. I feel it leaving me when I pray, like water gushing out of a fire hose. I think this is what Jesus felt leaving him when the lady with the hemorrhage touched his garment.

I also believe that the longer you pray about a thing, the more of this substance you release. Seriously. Think about the blind man Jesus healed. He didn’t just point his finger and yell, “SEE!” He had to give it several tries. God himself, in human form, had to pray for a considerable time to get this miracle done. I believe it works the same way for us. I think that’s why God included that story in the gospels. There has to be some sound reason for including a story which seems to go against the concept of a messiah so powerful he could get anything done instantly. I don’t think Jesus deliberately wasted his time. That would have been foolish and misleading.

He also prayed for a very long time in the Garden of Gethsemane, and he criticized the disciples for being too weak to pray for a solid hour. Think about it. If they had obeyed, would they have been able to go a whole hour without repeating themselves? No way. They had a very simple crisis facing them, not a long list of varying problems. I believe they were supposed to go up there and beg and thank God repeatedly, releasing faith all the while.

So I’m going half an hour at a pop.

So far, the results are consistent with my suspicions. I think the ideas I have are being given to me by God, and that he is leading me into a powerful way of praying. The correct way, probably. I sure hope so. In my own right, I am not fit to judge.

Jesus told us not to repeat ourselves like the heathens. But that doesn’t mean you can’t ask for the same thing over and over for 30 minutes. In fact, he told us to ask for the same things over and over, when he told the parable of the widow and the judge. I believe the repetition ban applied to mumbling prayers that aren’t heartfelt, such as canned prayers from prayer books.

There is no magic in a set of words. You don’t need to use church-sanctioned prayers written by super-holy priests that died decades ago. The faith that backs words up is what gets the job done. I believe that’s what Jesus was pointing out when he told us to avoid vain repetitions. So I think you can pray for the same thing repeatedly and get results. If I’m wrong, God has been remarkably consistent in reinforcing my error. If he keeps that up for the rest of my life, and I’m wrong, I’ll be better off than someone who was right. That would be odd.

I had an interesting conversation with another church member today. He came to me while I was standing in a dark area of the church, alone. He didn’t want to be heard. He started asking me my opinion of a preacher who visited recently. I didn’t know what he was getting at, but I was honest. I said I thought the guy was off course, and that a lot of his spiel was about himself and his own glory. I thought the guy was off into some totally unscriptural Copelandian stuff. “I rebuke this, and I command that, and I release angels.” That kind of weirdness. And my friend agreed completely.

We get preachers who seem completely nutty. They claim they “speak things into existence” and so on. They always talk a great deal about how a bunch of us are going to become millionaires. When they talk about Christians they consider models for us, those Christians are always wealthy people. The congregation laps it up. I think it’s wrong; I believe we’re supposed to be prosperous, but prosperity should be a side effect, not a cure. Jesus said to seek God’s kingdom and his righteousness first.

On the other hand, my friend has a negative view of preachers who talk about supernatural power a lot. I can’t agree. I’ve seen and experienced power, and I see it backed up in the Bible. I think we’re supposed to be a little bit like wizards, except that we’re under God’s authority, and we do our supernatural deeds in humility and awe, and we only do them to please and glorify God, and only at his direction. The Apostles had incredible power. Like John Bevere says, they were mistaken for gods. I think God wants us to wield his power, and I think the power is coming back into the church.

Still, it was great to learn that someone I respected had concerns similar to mine. We have both learned that churches aren’t perfect. Crooks and frauds and egomaniacs are going to show up, and often they’re going to fool people. That doesn’t mean we should leave or make trouble. We should stick around and try to fix things, unless it gets intolerable.

It seems like there are a few people in the church who are scattered around like pillars, holding the place up in maturity and faith. We run into each other by chance, and we come to recognize each other. It’s kind of disturbing that a person with my character limitations would be significantly less wacky and gullible than the bulk of the congregation, but then, God doesn’t have a lot to work with.

When my sister and I used to go to this church together, I told her that some of the best people in churches are in the pews, and now I am taking my own advice. Our pastor never says anything insane, so I think we’re on a fairly good course, and I meet a lot of phenomenal, solid people who work to keep the place running. It won’t kill me if an occasional charlatan drops by and fleeces the congregation. What am I going to do? Die? That’s the only way I’ll join a group of people who worship and serve perfectly.

I always tell people I’ll settle for an 85% church. If I think 85% of what the church teaches is right, that will do.

Stuff is definitely happening at that church and in my life. I keep meeting food people and music people. Now I’m meeting food people who are also professional musicians. What’s THAT all about? I can’t even guess. And we now have three top-flight musicians in the Armorbearers. Something is going on. This is not all coincidence. And I think Mike is going to be moving to South Florida. Another food person.

I still have 50 minutes of stuff left to do today. I’ll keep posting testimonies as they occur.