A Holy Kiss

 "Greet all the brothers with a holy kiss." (1st Thessalonians 5:26)

I often wonder about the origins of things. Take for example, kissing. In my cursory research, I found that some social anthropologists believe that kissing actually began between a mother and infant child. It was not about emotions but survival. The mother would chew up food and then push it to her lips, kiss the baby, and push some of the food into its mouth - much like a mother bird would do to its baby in the nest. 

Another theory was that ancient men and women would kiss and taste each others saliva to see if they would be compatible mates. I have slight autism [my daughters diagnosed me] so this is making me a little sick to my stomach just describing this stuff. 

In today's environment there are too many factors that would skew the data - Scope, Tick Tacs, Gum, coffee, bad dental care, etc... I would like to interject at this point that when two people kiss they pass, on average, 80 million micro levels of bacteria. 

It is also interesting to note that Living Science has demonstrated that men and women do unconsciously pick up on taste and smell of potential mates that, subsequently, have proven to strengthen the immune system of potential and subsequent generations produced by the other activities incited by that kiss. In other words, something about kissing helps keep the human race alive and literally, well. 

The earliest written texts about kissing are found in Sanskrit and in the Indus Valley in India. They are texts about a simple form of intimate passion between family members, friends, and lovers. Another interesting thing to note is that the vast amount of kissing being done is not linked to romance but greetings and friendship. It is presumed to have been taken up by the Greeks and Romans and by the West, in general, as a form of greeting but also in the more intimate contexts. 

Not to be outdone, the Church itself took up the practice. In Latin it is called osculum pacis - "the kiss of peace." The Roman Catholic Church changed the name at some point so that it is called, "the sign of peace." I find it interesting that we have adopted something that was the last act of betrayal by Judas Iscariot at the arrest of Jesus in the Garden. "Judas, are you betraying the Son of Man with a kiss?" (Luke 22:47) "Yes, yes I am." 

My first kiss on the lips was not memorable, well, it was...it was by my Aunt Norma at a wedding reception. She came in from a side attack and I couldn't do anything but tighten up and wait for the post arm sleeve wipe. Yuck! I quickly formulated a plan with frontal attack family members. Act like your coming in for the kill and at that last minute turn your head. I honed this skill while saying goodbye to Deb's grandma. I call it my "evasion kiss." Slightly to the side. No lips. All cheek. Still creepy but less offensive than almost throwing up or running away screaming, "I'd rather die!" 

Unfortunately, my like-minded granddaughter for some reason decided she needed to plant one on me. I laughed in panic as this insistent kindergartner tried to kill me. Head moving side to side like a grandpa bobble head on a bumpy road. Trying to avoid the torture of the moment, Gloria Gaynor's song kept running through my head, "I Will Survive." 

Not too many churches that I am affiliated with do the "kiss" greeting anymore. We shake hands. We hug. We tell each other, "You are loved." It is family after all. 

In all seriousness, I write today to remember a brother in Christ who died of Covid last week. He was a beloved friend and colaborer in worship. He loved children like no other and sought to bring them into the kingdom of God. He was an old rock-n-roller who was radically saved and spent his life trying to serve Jesus. Our loss is God's gain. 

I still miss every Sunday morning that I would see him at the front of the sanctuary. Without fail, His 6' 6'' tall frame always bending down a little and my 5' 11'' frame  always tippy-toeing up to him. A bear hug greeting from my brother, Rob. Our kiss of peace in a manly way. "Yous (not a type-o) are loved." Many a Sunday morning that was so desperately needed. Right back at you my, friend, my brother in Jesus. Finally home. Receiving the best kiss of all - the warm embrace of his Savior. I'll miss that on this side of heaven but look forward to it when I arrive. 

Sigh. 

Now back to those germs and years of therapy because of Norma...

Cherries

 "Therefore, I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body what you will wear. Is not life more important than food, and the body more important than clothes? Look at at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable then they?" (Matthew 6:25-26)

My neighbor, Ron, who knows all things neighborhoody, gave me the low down on my newly acquired house when I moved to Logansport. He told me when trash comes, when recycling comes, where to put my brush, where to buy the best compost bags. He told me about ants and bees and deer and rabbits. He gave me the history of almost every neighbor on the street and contractor who built their homes. Who has basements and who does not. 

He told me that the lady that owed the house prior to us was a lover of plants and trees. She just wasn't particular about where she planted them nor was she good at taking care of them. I'll cut her some slack. She was in her 90's. The place looks beautiful in the Spring. Sort of an eclectic menagerie of color in unexpected places but with re-rod stakes and steel hanging pot supports now firmly grown into the living décor. Irretractable. 

"Who in their right mind would plant cherry trees on both sides to the entrance of a driveway?" Ron said in utter arbor unbelief. "Now if I were you, I would cut some of those low hanging branches extending over the driveway and then lift up that canopy a bit. Remember that they come and pick up the brush every other week or so. And...well...don't worry about the cherries. We usually get a good freeze in the spring that kills the blossoms." 

Ron...you're a liar. The trees were filled with cherries this year. It looks like we go out in the night and butcher small animals in the front of our house. Red squished cherry juice all over the place. 

I was out front on the little porch we have one morning, enjoying the early sunshine and warmth, reading the Scriptures, glancing once in a while up toward the crime scene when I began to see the most beautiful cardinals, blue jays, robins, and other assorted fowl landing in my driveway and enjoying the free fruit. Before you know it one, two, then three, playful rabbits found their way out to the feast and enjoyed. I could have sworn that they were having a pit spitting contest but more of my imagination than truth. 

I smiled. I was still. I remembered. 

I remembered that my life is not to be full of worry or stress. I remembered that God loves the birds and the rabbits. He loves them so much that he had an elderly lady plant dirty, messy, cherry trees at the entrance to a driveway so that in spite of the red-stained concrete, His creation would have something to eat. 

I remembered that He loves and cares for me too. I wondered what mess He has provided for me. 

I smiled. I was still. The rabbit sure did taste good grilled.

The Mountain

 
"Peter said to Jesus, 'Rabbi, it is good for us to be here." Mark 9:5

I have been blog absent for the last couple of weeks because of some vacation time. Read a couple of good books in the quiet moments of the day when I wasn't conscripted to be the extra weight needed to go down the larger water slides with the grandkids. Ten flights of stairs with an innertube. Not sure how long I will be able to do that but thankful for the current ability (especially post-Covid lungs). 

Vacations are like little excursions. You head off to someplace different to "get away" and yet bring most of your stuff with you. Humorous. 

One of the things that cause me a bit of stress but at the same time brings me great joy is putting an address in the GPS (Global Positioning System) and taking off trusting that the thing is correct (which, on occasion, is not). So down a different Tennessee road we go. Nicely paved. Winding. Hmmm...who would have thought that Eastern Tennessee University would be out here. Mountains. Streams. And out in the middle of nowhere...shops. Artisans. Potters. Photo galleries. Jewelers. Woodworkers. Herbalists. Tanners. A pleasant day of adventure. Hoping to find some good fudge or hard dip ice cream. 

I am a homebody by nature. I like "stay vacations." I have to force myself to get out of "Dodge" as they say. But when I do, I am reminded of the beauty of  this country and for the most part, of its people. I can't help to think that each new location, each verbal connection with a stranger, is a foreshadowing of heaven in some way. 

As I read the account of the Transfiguration of Christ in the Gospel of Mark I was captured by the statement that Peter made: "It is good for us to be here." I think the text bears witness that it was a bit of nervous energy on his part. He had to say something. He had to acknowledge the unique adventure in some way. And what an adventure it was. 

Jesus took his elite triplets up the mountain: James, John, and Peter. And the Bible tells us that Jesus was transformed before their eyes. His clothes became whiter than any white known to man. His countenance - radiant. And if that was not enough, two other guests, who apparently did not need introduction, showed up for the party: Moses and Elijah. Divine knowledge of a couple of guys who had been dead for over a thousand years. 

I am getting old. My thoughts and values are changing. I long for the eternal, the whole, the next. Moses. Elijah. Not in a morbid way but rather, to see the divine now. To see it in the hills of Tennessee, but also in the traffic jam around Cincinnati. To see it in the stranger at the leather shop making me a handcrafted belt with a cross button affixed as well as in the laughter and screaming of my grandkids as we fly down an enclosed death tube of fast flowing water hoping not to drown. To see Jesus. 

It is good to be here.