Tag: Control

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Twelve Days of Advent – #11 Not a Silent Night

“And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men.’”

Luke 2:13

As a worship leader I get to play a lot of music throughout the year. No time is more enjoyable for me than Advent and Christmas. The songs, the vocals, the arrangements, they all bring the season alive for me.

One of my favorite Christmas Season songs for worship is Andrew Peterson’s “Labor of love” (If you’ve never heard it, find a version here). The song is a unique reinterpretation of the traditional “Silent Night.” Rather than a quiet, peaceful version of Jesus’ birth, the lyrics depict a grittier, harsher world welcoming the Son of Man.

When we look at miniature nativity scenes, do we see something like this?

A radiant Mary, loving Joseph, gentle shepherds leaning on their staffs, perhaps a few wise men looking on with knowing smiles, glorious Angels heralding the miracle, a peaceful donkey and a couple of sheep … all focused on a beaming baby Jesus. A perfectly calm picture of tranquility, sanitized and airbrushed for our consumption.

Yet I imagine the real nativity scene was quite different.

A different kind of night

To begin with, what must it have been like for Joseph to take a nearly full-term Mary the 80+ hilly and winding miles on foot or riding a donkey from Nazareth to Bethlehem in response to the census decree from Caesar described in Luke 2? The tiny village of Bethlehem, by that time a sleepy town of about 300 people, would have swelled in size because of the census, on that night packed and noisy. The crowds were likely disgruntled at the inconvenience of the Roman census, pushing and shoving each other on the narrow streets.

On the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem today. Credit: www.nortonwheeler.com

Or consider the “shepherds in the fields” in verse 8. Imagine being these men, used to watching over their flocks all night, fighting off predators and poachers. They’re in no way timid or meek. Yet nothing has prepared them for the sight of an other-worldly being appearing from the skies and announcing the news of Jesus’ birth. Scripture tells us they were “terrified.”

Fear can be a powerful motivator. It causes us to be mistrustful and hurtful to each other. It closes our minds to those with whom we disagree. It causes us to lash out at those we see as different. We like our worlds to remain unchanging and predictable.

These shepherds had their worlds completely disrupted. Yet the Angel calms them, tells them not to be afraid and is joined a “multitude of the heavenly hosts” joining in praise.

Hardly a quiet night on the hillside.

Back at the stable and the manger, things are hardly more subdued. Unable to find accommodations Joseph was forced to bargain for a corner in a barn, probably suffering disdainful looks from other, more fortunate people who had warm fires and comfortable beds or pallets.

Mary has given birth – likely without a midwife or the comforting hands of her mother – surrounded by the raucous livestock of both Bethlehem’s residents and the visitors also there to complete the census. The scene is chaotic, noisy, dirty, and crowded.

Hardly the picture of a silent night.

Noisy, messy lives

Many of us can relate to this more realistic picture of Jesus’ birth. Like that night, our lives are gritty and crowded rather than airbrushed and pristine. Our days and nights are noisy, messy, often filled with angry voices and disdainful looks. We’re bombarded every day with messages of angst, anxiety, uncertainty.

Hope gives way to fear. Fear leads us to dread the future, uncertain of how we’ll get from day to day. We pray for grace and help while a nagging voice whispers deep inside us “what if He doesn’t answer?” Like the people of Israel during that long pause before Christ’s birth, we question how long we must wait for deliverance.

And so, we retreat inside ourselves, guarded and protective of our hearts, unwilling to engage the world in open and welcoming ways. Rejecting the needs of others, we focus on our own needs.

Credit: Billy Hunt

Hardly the makings of perfect lives.

In the midst of the chaos surrounding her, how did Mary respond? Scripture tells us she “treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.” Mary’s answer to the pandemonium and disorder surrounding her was to praise God for His providence, thankful for the blessing He had bestowed. She prayed and opened this most vulnerable moment of her life to everyone around her, sharing freely the precious gift God and given to mankind.

Forgetful souls

Sometimes, even during Advent and Christmas, it’s easy for us to suffer from what 9th century Irish theologian John Scotus Eriugena called “forgetfulness of soul.” We forget to love, forget to give, forget to extend our hand to others. We sing carols, go to parties, buy tons of gifts but do not, as Mary did, “treasure things in our hearts.”

Today, this Eve of Arrival, let us remember that beyond the celebrations and decorations, the true meaning of Emmanuel, “God With Us” is as close as the next person we see. We were made in God’s image, created to emulate Him and love each other openly, abundantly, and without fear even in the midst of chaos.

God has never been silent, if we have ears to hear. He has never been invisible, if we have eyes to see. He invites us to encounter Him when we protect the weak, lift up the downtrodden, seek peace in the midst of enmity.

The angel proclaimed to the shepherds: “Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people.” As you celebrate this Christmas Eve, this closing of Advent, proclaim the Good News: Arrival is Nigh.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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After the Storm

“Where is your faith?” he asked his disciples. – Luke 8:25

With dawn approaching on Friday September 14, millions watched as cable and television reporters stood in rain gear, bracing themselves against gale-force winds and breathlessly reporting on the landfall of Hurricane Florence. In the aftermath, the stories were all too familiar: multiple fatalities, hundreds of thousands without power, families stranded in their homes.

Hurricanes are vicious, unrelenting, and terrifying. The wreckage they leave in their wake is indiscriminate. They can destroy lives.

And sometimes, they can restore hope and faith.

Luke 8 tells of an episode when during a terrible storm. Jesus had just directed his disciples to set out in a boat across the lake near Galilee where he had been preaching for several days. As they made their way across to the country of the Gerasenes, Jesus fell asleep, likely exhausted from his efforts.

Without warning, a “fierce gale of wind” overtook them, filling the boat with water and potentially sinking them. These were hardened sea-goers, accustomed to rain and wind while fishing or traveling. This “squall” (as one translation calls it) should have been nothing to them unless it was extraordinary and truly terrifying.

“Christ in the Storm on the Sea of Galilee, Ludolph Bakhuizen, c. 1695”

Moreover, the journey from Galilee to the Gerasenes is not a leisurely trip across a small lake. The Sea of Galilee, separating the two, is Israel’s largest freshwater lake, some 13 miles long 8 miles wide. A ship sunk in the middle of this lake would mean certain death to the passengers.

The disciples felt doomed.

Waking Jesus from his sleep, they exclaimed the boat was sinking and they were fearful for their lives. Unfazed, Jesus stood up and rebuked the storm, immediately calming the winds and the raging water. Luke writes that the disciples were “amazed” and cried out “who is this man?”

This story combines everything I love about Jesus and his faith in God. Not only does he remain calm in the very midst of chaos knowing God has a plan to turn all things to his purpose, but reading past the verse 25, Jesus takes no time resting, repairing, or recounting the storm incident. Instead he immediately gets out of the boat and faces down a man with demons, casting them out into a herd of swine who themselves drown in the very same lake his disciples had feared they would die just a few hours earlier.

The lessons we can draw from this are profound and meaningful in the aftermath of Hurricane Florence.

God’s Intentions are Bigger Than Our Storms

God’s plans are bigger than any storm we face. While we fear the unknowns and potential tragedy of loss, God is busy calming the waters ahead of us.

Why? Because there is always another “side of the lake” to reach. God’s intention was for Jesus to encounter the demon-possessed man amidst the people of the Gerasenes, and getting through a storm was part of that plan.

Our personal storms may not be hurricanes. Instead, they may be the unexpected death of loved one. Or we may lose a job and not know how we will pay our bills. Or we may be betrayed by a friend or a spouse.

Our storm may happen when life has seemed to turn against us so much, we don’t know where to turn or what to do. We may even hear the Great Deceiver whispering in our ear, “It’s no use, it will never work. You may as well give up.”

Yet to those who trust in God, the waves and the rain, the despair and the pain – they have no power. His intention is greater than our desperation.

God Interprets Storms Differently

In Luke’s account, Jesus is sleeping through what his disciples believed was a deadly event. Clearly, Jesus was not concerned – he was sleeping soundly as the boat rolled.

How do we typically react in bad times? Do we sleep soundly? I know I don’t! I have sleepless nights, anxious that God needs my help in sorting out my world. I want to take action, jumping into the middle of things.

The disciples saw their storm as a horrifying event that needed to be stopped. In truth, there was absolutely nothing they could do to change the situation. They were powerless, and this feeling of powerlessness impacted their faith.

Credit: The American Conservative

God, however, was not powerless, and did not consider this storm a calamitous event – He saw it as a way to strengthen the disciples’ faith in His sovereignty.

This has ever been so. The prophet Isaiah wrote in Isaiah 55:8-9 “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways, says the Lord. For as heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts.”

Even in the darkest of times, when trouble and hardship crash down on us, God asks us to trust in His Word, claiming His promise for us. We see a storm, God sees an opportunity to bring us closer to Him.

God’s Instruction Surpasses Our Assumptions

We often place enormous faith in our ingenuity and creations. We build houses to withstand the strength of hurricanes – until they don’t. We invent earthquake-resistant buildings which collapse when the Richter Scale is a tick too high. We trust in ourselves when God is patiently waiting for us to place our trust in Him.

“Where is your faith?” Jesus asked his disciples as the storm raged. I imagine it was in many things: the construction of the boat, their own seamanship and experience, perhaps in the strength of the sails to weather the winds.

One place their faith clearly wasn’t – with Jesus and God. In the midst of the storms in our lives, where is our faith? In people? In money? In short term pleasures? None of these can truly save us, and often they can’t show us how to get through the hardships facing us.

Yet God reminds us that He has the power to get us through, to bring us to the other side of the storm. His guiding hand is there, calming the winds and if we listen we can hear His instruction to trust and place our faith in Him.

The aftermath of Hurricane Florence is still unfolding. There will likely be additional fatalities and extreme hardship. God remains here, in our midst, reassuring us His plans are greater than ours, His wisdom infinitely more complete than our imagination.

By placing our faith and trust in Him, we can see the through the darkness and know the truth in Paul’s words from Romans 8:28 when he wrote “God works all things together for the good of those who love Him.”

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Priceless

“Do not store up for yourselves treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal.” – Matthew 6:19

In January 2013, a collector paid $10,016,875, the highest selling price of any coin in history, for a 1794 “Flowing Hair” Silver/Copper dollar, the first dollar coin issued by the newly-formed U.S. Federal Government.

Consider that for a moment – the world’s rarest coin is valued at over $10 million. Ten million dollars. Interestingly, at current trading prices, you could buy the 24 grams of actual silver in that coin for about $13, or 0.0001% of the coin’s selling price. But who’s counting?

A Flowing Hair Silver Dollar, the first silver dollar struck by the United States Mint, Reuters January 24, 2013. REUTERS/Stack’s Bowers Galleries/Handout

We place worth in the oddest things.

No Ordinary Dinner

I was reminded of this when re-reading the encounter depicted in John 12:1-11 describing Jesus returning to the house of Martha, Mary and Lazarus during the week of his eventual betrayal and arrest.

In this passage, as Jesus and Lazarus are having dinner, Mary approaches and opens a expensive jar of fragrant nard, anointing Jesus’ feet and then drying them with her hair. In today’s dollars, the ointment would be worth just under $25,000, about a year’s wages in 33 A.D. That’s a lot of money for a foot rub!

Feigning shock and indignation, Judas (yes that Judas, who was attending the dinner), rebukes Jesus, saying “Why was this ointment not sold for three hundred denarii and given to poor people?” Remember, this is the same Judas who five days later would betray Jesus for $1,000 worth of coins, the same price paid to compensate the death of a slave (Exodus 21:32).

We find worth in the oddest things.

Money in God’s Eyes

Scripture has many references to money. Some mention sacrifices made by the humble, (for instance, the woman with 10 coins in Luke 15:8 who rejoices after believing she had lost one, or the widow who gave her last two mites to the Temple in Luke 21. Others refer to the consequences of valuing money too highly, such as how much easier it is for camels to pass through needle eyes than rich men to enter the kingdom (Matthew 19:24), or how our hearts will be found near that which we treasure (Matthew 6:21).

What struck me about the stories of the $10 million-dollar coin and Judas’ self-righteous outburst followed by his own acceptance of blood money was not the vast difference in their monetary worth ($10 million for a single silver coin vs. $1,000 for 30 pieces of silver) but rather the ironic gulf separating their intrinsic worth.  On the one hand, more money than 99.999% of human beings will ever see is exchanged for the equivalent of 1 ounce of silver.

On the other hand, about 17 ounces of silver is exchanged for the life of Man’s Creator and Eternal Savior.

We look for worth in the oddest things.

Betrayal By Many Names

Judas Returning the Thirty Pieces of Silver, Rembrandt, 1629

For centuries, “scholars” have offered many explanations of Judas’ betrayal for what was, essentially, a few day’s wages, the price of slave. The most common answer is that Judas was simply a greedy coward, hungry for money and weak to temptation.

I’ve always been troubled by this argument for the simple reason that Judas was the acknowledged “purse holder” for the apostles and could have taken money from their mobile bank any time he wished. 30 more pieces of silver would have hardly made a difference in his daily life.

Another theory is that Judas was part of Jesus’ master plan all along, only pretending to “sell him out” to the Jewish authorities in much the same way Luca Brasi pretended to sell out Don Corleone in The Godfather – all part of an intricate strategy to help Jesus manipulate the prophetic scriptures into fulfillment.

“Anyt’ing for you, Don Corleone.”

This argument seems suspect to me on many levels, most notably in that it would require Jesus to essentially be a deceiver of Luciferian proportions and imply the Crucifixion and ultimately the Resurrection were hoaxes.  Not exactly my view.

In truth, Judas – like all of us – was a frail and flawed human, filled with weakness. Regardless of what lay in his heart, God’s magnificent plan unfolded exactly as it had been foretold, exactly on time. Judas’ betrayal became the pathway to our redemption and salvation.

Truly Priceless

What a handful of 1st Century Jewish leaders spent for a betrayer’s kiss in a garden just outside the walls of Jerusalem bought infinitely more than the easy arrest of a rabble rousing rabbi. It purchased the collective freedom of all mankind.

In that sense, those 30 pieces of silver were the most priceless, most invaluable coins in all of history, worth infinitely more than all the combined wealth of all the kings and nations since the beginning of time.

The next time you read or hear about a painting or a house or a rare coin selling for some unimaginable amount, remember this: the highest price ever paid for anything bought the most precious gift ever freely given by God – forgiveness.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Love, It’s That Simple

“I give you a new commandment, that you love one another. Just as I have loved you, you also should love one another. By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.” John 13:34-35

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

A moment ago, the world was ordered. Plans were in place. Victory was at hand. Three years of constant travel to endless towns, encountering people at every turn craving the promise of hope they had waited generations to hear was about to pay off. Adoring crowds had hailed their entrance into the city with an extravagant parade.

The Kingdom … had finally … arrived.

Earlier, the group of brothers had assembled in an upper room away from throngs crowding the city streets below, watching with odd curiosity as their leader stripped off his outer garments, grabbed a nearby basin of water and a towel, and proceeded moving from man to man, gently washing their feet in an astonishing display of humility and service. “Women and slaves do this,” they whispered to one another, “not the Messiah!”

“The Last Supper,” Leonardo da Vinci, 1498

During the ceremonial meal, celebrated each Passover in remembrance of God’s Deliverance of His people from bondage, the man for whom these men had left behind everything and followed shocked them into momentary silence.

“Betrayal?” “Leaving us?” “What about the Kingdom?”

This simply couldn’t be. It was just … wrong.

An Act of Love

Every Christian knows this story from the Last Supper. My high school friend and extraordinary Christian artist, songwriter, and teacher Michael Card penned an amazing song memorializing the moment (“The Basin and the Towel”). The Supreme Savior of the World assumes the lowliest of positions to demonstrate the power of a servant’s heart to his disciples.

Today is known around the Christian world as “Maundy Thursday.” The term comes from the Latin word mandatum in John 13:34 meaning “command.” Jesus instructed his disciples in a new commandment following this episode to “Love one another.” Foot washing, while an ancient custom of hospitality in the Middle East, was redefined by Jesus as an amazing act of service and love.

But it was not the ultimate act of service. That would come later in the evening, foretold during the Passover meal by Jesus. He revealed to his disciples how he would demonstrate an infinitely more meaningful act of love and sacrifice in willingly walking into the hands of the Jewish and Roman authorities to suffer their sham trial, conviction, and execution in atonement for sins of the world.

The last meal Jesus shared with his disciples is described in all four canonical Gospels (Matthew 26:17-30, Mark 14:12-26, Luke 22:7-39 and John 13:1-17:26). In addition to the foot washing episode uniquely depicted in John, the key events in the meal included preparing the apostles for Jesus’ imminent departure, predictions about Judas betraying Jesus, and the foretelling of the upcoming denial of Jesus by Peter. As the evening unfolds, the scales eventually drop from the eyes of the apostles as Jesus calmly, lovingly explains the meaning of all they had seen and heard the prior three years.

He Didn’t Run

He wasn’t running. He wasn’t fighting back. He wasn’t raising an army to storm the Roman garrison housed at the Fortress of Antonia overlooking the Temple. He wasn’t ushering in a sweeping movement of retaliation, or vengeance, or eye-for-eye justice.

Instead, Jesus offered his incredulous apostles an entirely different message. Away from the thousands that followed him wherever he went, Jesus looked into the eyes of his twelve closest friends and brothers and taught them a new meaning of Messiahship: love.

Jesus was blameless. His ministry was built on non-violence, healing, raising the dead, and freeing those held hostage to sin. He brought hope to the hopeless and life to those dying in darkness.

But on this evening, he told his followers the shattering truth: no one would thank him. No one would celebrate his acts of mercy and kindness. In less than 300 minutes, he would be arrested. Within 21 hours he would be dead.

Wrong. Just, wrong!

The smoldering ember Jesus planted in the hearts of his apostles that night in a tiny room a few feet above the streets of Jerusalem was resisted by every man sharing the meal with him. Yet within a few weeks it would erupt in a blazing wildfire that would spread the to the length and breadth of the known world.

The Ultimate Weapon

Because ultimately, Jesus demonstrated how goodness, kindness, and compassion could overpower the oppression and authority of the world more than any weapon or army. He revealed the most overwhelming and radical insurgency movement the world had ever known: a kingdom built on love, not vengeance.

In today’s world filled with sensationalized violence, hatred raised to an art form by endless media and wall-to-wall news coverage, celebrity-inspired self-aggrandizement pouring out of Snapchat, Instagram, Twitter, and Facebook, this simple story of love wouldn’t “go viral.” It wouldn’t last an entire news cycle, shouted down by voices more interested in self-promotion and personal agendas than lasting, profound changes of the human heart.

Muslim protestors, credit Walid Shoebat

But ultimately, Jesus’ story of love transcends all of those things. Because this simple story of love is not about one man but is about all of us. It’s the story of what happens when a world gone mad does everything it can to extinguish hope through violence, and hatred, and fear, and yet is overcome by the triumph of sacrificial love. In the words of Reverend Dr. Emily C. Heath, “It’s a story of love that was rejected and buried, and yet was still too strong to stay in the ground.”

What If?

What if the world knew us as Christians not by the Bible we carry, the cross hanging from our neck or the church we attend? What if Christianity was not defined by size of our amphitheaters or the production value of our music-filled services? What if our faith wasn’t identified by what we say we believe about Jesus, or how self-righteously we portray ourselves in blog posts?

What if, instead, we were known as Christians by our love?  What if we could show the world what Jesus showed his disciples that night, a world where we are united in spirit, walking beside each other, working together to build Kingdom-filled communities founded in love rather than dividing lines?

Tonight, as you reflect on what a simple act of feet washing memorializes, as we pause to join in the solemnity of a Passover dinner shared by a condemned Savior and his weary followers 2,000 years ago, take a moment to remember. Take a moment to remember not just what this night or even the coming weekend of Easter means, but what it means to be a Christian in the world of the Fourth Day, the day after the Resurrection, the day when light emerged from darkness.

Remember what it means to be a truly Christ-centered Believer. Remember Christ’s commandment from John 13 – to love each other as he loved us.

Love, it’s really that simple.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Safe Places and Other Modern Myths

“You will not be afraid of the terror by night, or of the arrow that flies by day; of the pestilence that stalks in darkness, or of the destruction that lays waste at noon.” Psalm 91:5-6

The news hit midmorning on, of all days, the start of Advent and Valentine’s Day: “Active shooter in Florida school.” Every day since, cable news and social media have been wall to wall with saturation coverage, shrill screams of “enough is enough,” student walkouts, and lockstep cries for yet more manmade faux solutions to manmade real problems.

Yet every proposed “fix” seems, in the grand scheme of things, hollow and sadly lacking any real core curative ingredient. Appeals for “safe places” in a world of unsafe reality.

How did we get here? Why do our daily lives seem and feel so much less secure than 10, 20, or 30 years ago? Are there really any safe places anymore?

In times of hardship or tragedy there is a natural desire to seek instant answers, immediate solutions ensuring we can step safely outside our door. We build houses with safe rooms. We pass laws to eliminate every perceivable type of danger. We legislate, regulate, and adjudicate every conceivable facet of life to make ourselves “safer.”

No Safe Places

The truth is no place on earth is safe enough to protect us from the inescapable certainties of life. No amount of money can shield us from the ravages of aging, disease, and death. No one we know, no where we go can ultimately protect us this truth: human life has a 100% mortality rate.

To be sure, we try.

We seek safety in more government oversight from our elected officials. Perhaps we seek safety in our churches and pastors. We seek safety online and on social media, with like-minded people saying like-minded things. Some even seek safety in barricading themselves behind walls and storing entire arsenals for protection.

Is there really safety in numbers?

In each of these, a common thread emerges: we seek safety in ourselves, in human devices. And almost always, we are disappointed and even heartbroken.

Jeremiah spoke of the dangers we face in placing our trust in each other (or even, as seems to be wildly en vogue the last few days, our children) rather than in God:

“Cursed is the man who trusts in mankind and makes flesh his strength, and whose heart turns away from the Lord. For he will be like a bush in the desert and … live in stony wastes in the wilderness, a land of salt without inhabitant.” (Jeremiah 17:5-6)

There is no safe place in surrender to fear. There is no safe place in blaming politicians or organizations for doing exactly what their constituents allow them to do, abdicating the responsibility of citizenship for creature comforts and diversions. There is no safe place in trusting our own so-called wisdom.

Yes, Evil is Real

Here is truth: evil is real. Since the first lie planted in the hearts of man turned us away from God’s perfection in the garden, we – mankind – have chosen to do evil things. It’s hardwired into our collective psyche.

Paul writes in Romans 5:12 “just as sin came into the world through one man, and death through sin, and so death spread to all men because all sinned— for sin indeed was in the world before the law was given.” Insert “evil” for “sin” and the picture gets clearer.

Credit: NBC News

Which brings us back to the events in Florida last week. A nineteen-year old broken soul, barely an adult, chose to live out the evil infesting his heart. He meticulously planned the slaughter, executing his deed with cold precision. He succeeded in shattering the illusions of safe places for those who simply expected another school day. 

No Easy Answers

Should we ask how? Dare we ask why? Of course.

Yet before we look for easy answers from the hearts of broken men and women grasping at something, anything, to prove they are not impotent in the face of evil, perhaps we should look at other things.

No doubt we can question the relatively frictionless accessibility to firearms guaranteed by our Constitution, and whether the time has come to reconsider its intended wisdom.

Or we can study the impact of a disconnected culture addicted to devices in the palms of its hands or at the other end of violent video game consoles.

Perhaps we should look at homes with single parents or no parents at all where boundaries and expectations and love for our children are absent.

Maybe we should explore the impact of ubiquitous psychotropic drugs and untreated mental illness all in the name of nonjudgmental tolerance.

Or even dig into the rise of bullying and the coarseness of society where social media allows anyone to say anything at any time with no consequence.

We should look at all these things and more.  And once we’ve analyzed and scrutinized and examined how man has turned creation into what we read in the headlines every day, we should remember that the influence all these things is not the same as the root cause for human suffering.

Wishes Don’t Work

Evil cannot be wished away, it cannot be legislated into extinction. Like water, it will seep through the cracks of even the most civilized and orderly society. Believing in manmade safe places is, simply, an illusion, a myth perpetrated by an enemy wishing delighted as we shake our fists at the sky saying “Enough! We are in control!”

Simply put, there is only one truly safe place: the will of the living God. As surely evil hides and walks amongst us, this is also goodness in our midst – vastly more than the media or our news feeds will ever tell us.

God has a design for each of us, and while we may not understand, He has a plan for any evil we create or endure. “God causes all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose,” Paul tells us in Romans 8:28.

God’s Purpose Can Never Be Defeated

No one – regardless of how deranged or evil – can succeed in blocking God’s purposes. Yet, when we remove the light of God’s Truth and replace it with the world’s standards, we are left to wander blind on our own paths of disobedience.

And sadly, sometimes that disobedience hurts even the innocents, the bystanders. Such is the consequence for a world in denial searching for safety where none exists.

There are no adequate words of comfort we can ever give to the parent of a child lost so senselessly, just as there is no easy consolation to someone suffering from a terminal disease or a spouse suffering betrayal.

Brothers and sisters, safety is found in the shelter of God’s love. “I the Lord do no not change; therefore you, O children of Jacob, are not consumed,” God speaks through His prophet in Malachi 3:6.

Take comfort in knowing His love never diminishes, His Light is always right there with us.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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A Bad Day

“More than that, we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God’s love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” Romans 5:3-5

I recently had a call from a friend who needed to vent. He was having a bad day. His wife was nagging about how he didn’t help out around the house, one of his kids was having problems in school, his boss was on his back about performance, and his beloved football team hadn’t made it into the playoffs. To top it off, his golf game was suffering. It was truly an apocalypse.

Every day we’re bombarded with stories of hardship. Some of these tug at our heartstrings: mothers losing their children needlessly to senseless crime; cancer ravishing the lives of families who must face unplanned catastrophes; the unimaginably impoverished barely surviving in far-flung places where even food and water are rare.

“Honest, officer, I just needed a quick place to park.”

And then, there are the fabricated stories of hardship. Tales of illegal immigrants who have been deported multiple times but are still being “persecuted” when they return to this country and break the law. Christians who claim they are being unfairly judged because of their scriptural interpretations. Culturally-sensitive types who reject any commentary they find specifically offensive to their delicate psyches.

A Tame World

The world today is, in many ways, tame. Creature comforts we deem as “bare minimums” would have been seen as impossibly extravagant luxuries a mere 100 years ago: large screen televisions in multiple rooms, smart phones permanently attached to our hands, churches wide open on every street corner offering whatever flavor of Christianity a consumer-oriented seeker desires, regardless of how authentically it follows scripture.

Perhaps I’m being harsh. No doubt some might find my framing of this topic already tainted with bias. Yet as I reflect on the unique 21st Century sentiments of those who feel life is treating them unfairly, I’m reminded of the struggles of 14 very real and very specific individuals who pledged their lives to proclaim Truth into the world nearly 2,000 years ago.

When Jesus ascended 40 days after his resurrection around 33 AD, there were exactly 11 Apostles and approximately 500 total followers in the entire world. 511 people who heard the ministry of Jesus and believed his Gospel. Almost immediately, Jesus’ followers were subject to the most horrific forms of persecution. They were hunted, beaten, sometimes stoned, almost unanimously ostracized. They had every reason to run from the call God placed on their hearts for an easier life, but they did not.

Persecuted for Faith

And what of Jesus’ Apostles? Consider what happened to each of those who were closest to Jesus life and ministry in the short 30 years following his resurrection:

  • James, older brother of John, is run through with a sword by Herod Agrippa in Jerusalem
  • Philip is crucified upside down in Asia
  • Bartholomew is skinned alive and beheaded in Armenia
  • Thomas (who doubted the resurrection) is stabbed to death by Hindu priests in Punjab, India
  • Matthew is martyred in Ethiopia
  • Simon and Jude are martyred in modern day Beirut
  • Mathias is stoned to death in Jerusalem after evangelizing in Armenia
  • James the Just (brother of Jesus) is thrown from the walls of the temple in Jerusalem by an angry mob and stoned to death
  • Andrew, brother of Peter, is crucified on an x-shaped cross in Patras, Greece
  • Simon Peter is crucified in Rome upside down
  • John the Evangelist is thrown into a boiling vat of oil, emerging unharmed but then exiled to Patmos
  • Mark is martyred in Alexandria after becoming its first Pope
  • Paul is beheaded in Rome

Credot: www.catholiccompany.com

These men and hundreds of thousands of followers since pledged and gave their lives defending a Truth so many today take for granted. They didn’t look for comfortable lives, easy faith. They didn’t water down Scripture to meet the sensitive ears of the people around them.

John’s Gospel describes the final night Jesus spent with his Apostles during the last supper. Afterwards, he encourages his followers by telling them not to let the coming trials of the world stop them from their mission. “Do not let your heart be troubled; believe in God, also believe in me,” he begins in John 14. “If the world hates you, you know that it has hated me before it hated you,” he continues in Chapter 15. He closes Chapter 16 with “In the world you have tribulation, but take courage; I have overcome the world.”

Life in Context

Friends, my message today is very simple. In the scheme of things, how difficult is your life? An IRS audit? Bills to pay? Your political candidate lost? Grumbling spouses? Someone’s Twitter feed makes you angry? Your preacher said something you found insensitive? These kinds of things are what stand between you and an unclouded relationship with God?

“For our present troubles are quite small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us an immeasurably great glory that will last forever,” Paul wrote in his second letter to the Corinthians. Every hardship we suffer today, even in the worst of times, prepares us for a future in eternity if we remember Christ overcame the world on our behalf.

When we put our lives in context, our “bad days” might be seen as “best days” for others. Instead of looking for reasons why our lives are not perfect, perhaps we should consider how filled we are by the Grace of God’s love and the sacrifice Jesus made at Calvary.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

 

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Of Pride and Prima Donnas

“Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you at the proper time, casting all your anxiety upon Him, because he cares for you.” 1 Peter 5:5-7

There was a time when I loved skiing. When we moved to Boulder in 1999, I was a big skier – a BIG skier. My first year there I managed 43 days on the slopes. Of course, the work thing interfered from time to time, but not much. I got really good, and was very impressed with myself and my skills.

I later relocated to Austin and tried keeping up my love for skiing, organizing semi-annual trips the first couple of years, until life finally intruded. Eventually, I just packed away the heavy weather gear, the boots, the helmets, the gloves, the slinky little underwear, you know the drill.

Then I organized a team “business meeting” in Crested Butte. No, really – a real meeting. In fact, the management at the Lodge was impressed with our ability to meet 9 hours a day for two days with the lifts 50 yards outside!

I couldn’t stay the weekend with the rest of my team, so I got there early to squeeze in a half-day of slope time before the meetings started.

Nothin’ But Pride

A funny thing happens when you haven’t skied in a couple of years. Apparently there’s this brain–body disconnect where the brain believes one thing and the body believes another. To my brain, six years away from skiing was really nothing, just a blink of the eye. I remembered – with pride, course – my glory days. My brain told me I was “Powder Dude” and “Steeps Dude” and “Air Dude.” Of course, my body had already moved out of state and was focused on more important things like lounging in front of a TV with a nice adult beverage.

Needless to say, I got reminded who was boss. After half a day of skiing, nothing too strenuous, of course, I tried one last run, just to prove I still had it. You can guess what happened next. A caught edge, a wonderful somersault, and *splat* “Air Dude” becomes “Crash Dude” with a separated shoulder.

“Dude, I kept my skis on!”

To be sure, the nurse and the doctors and the nice ski patrol guy were all very understanding. They didn’t care much about my pride, though. I, on the other hand, was very concerned. I mean, I’m a skier for 18 years! This doesn’t happen to me!

That’s the topic of this message: Pride. What it is, why it lies at the root of nearly all our shortcomings, how it separates us from God, how it separates us from each other.

The word “Pride” is mentioned nearly 80 times in the NIV version of the Bible. Related topics like “proud” and “prideful” and “boastful” increase that count significantly. Scriptural commentary on Pride is rarely positive.

In the passage quoted at the beginning of this message, Peter is writing to the Elders and leaders in the expanding region of the early Church across Pontus, Galatia, Cappadocia, Asia and Bithynia (collectively known today as the country of Turkey), attempting to encourage new followers who were under severe persecution and wavering in their faith. The younger followers were at odds with their elders, allowing pride to fuel disagreements and arguments about who should lead.


Peter is pointing out a subtle but crucial point. Pride (or its corollary the lack of humility) is at the heart of all sin. It leads us from God instead of running to Him. Arrogance, disobedience, rebellion, mistreatment of others – all are rooted in a lack of humility.

Humility is Hard

Humility isn’t a popular topic in today. It’s not touted on The View or Ellen, it’s rarely mentioned in speeches, it certainly hasn’t found it’s way into the endless blathering from would-be social critics attacking this politician or that celebrity, you don’t find seminars dedicated to finding humility. Take a look at this link on self-help books – not a single topic on humility.

Why is this?

Perhaps because true humility can only exist when God is present. Humility is like a shadow we cast when God’s light shines on us. When we turn from God, the shadow of humility is replaced by a darker, more insidious shadow – the shadow of Pride.

Pride leads us to believe we can define ourselves apart from our “created” nature. Ironically, as we cling tightly to the fantasy of self-importance and self-sufficiency, we begin feeling anxious about anything threatening that illusion. This anxiety fuels the motives leading us into lives of mistakes and shortcomings as we try to avoid the reality that we’re not really in control of our lives.

One area of Christian life where Pride is most dangerous is … faith. Peter saw this among his followers, as the younger men allowed pride to cloud their sense of community.

We’ve all known folks like that – proud Christians who are good people yet who stand on self-made alters of self-righteousness. Their faith is not so much about God as it is about them.

The Self-Exalted Are Humbled

This is wonderfully illustrated in the 18th chapter of Luke. Jesus is teaching when his attention turns to “some who were confident in their righteousness and looked down on everybody else.” In response, Jesus tells the story of a Pharisee and Tax Collector going to the temple to pray. The Pharisee, filled with a sense of his own self-righteousness, thanks God he isn’t like the other men – adulterers, evildoers, even tax collectors. Meanwhile, the tax collector stands in the back of the temple, afraid to raise his eyes to God and begs mercy for his sins. Jesus clinches the story with this line: “I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For everyone who exalts himself will be humbled, and he who humbles himself will be exalted” (Luke 18:14).

Pharisee and the Publican, James Tissot, 1894

Those who exalt themselves will be humbled by God. That’s a powerful message. And we’re just one broken promise, one misstep away from devastation. Getting to the root of Pride lying buried in each of our hearts is hard. Yet as I’ve reflected on how Pride often controls my relationships with God and those around me, I’ve found three ways to attack my own lack of humility. Let me warn you, these aren’t easy to do consistently, and they must be done together. And while they may seem simplistic, they work. This week, I encourage each of you to consciously try them:

1) Be grateful to anyone and everyone. Treat even the things people are expected to do as great gifts. Be grateful for your meals, grateful for the change you get back at the drive through, the smile at the ticket counter, rain, life itself. Thank everyone.

2) Beg forgiveness of God for the sin of Pride. Go before Him in prayer every day or every few hours and implore His mercy. The more this offends you, the more Pride you have.

3) Ask God for a spirit of Humility and Gratitude. Read Philippians 2:3-11 and imitate it. Understand that without God’s Grace, we’ll never cast away our illusions. Ask God to break your pride and vanity using whatever it takes: illness, loss of friends, loss of family, public humiliation. This is unbelievably difficult to request, and every fiber of our being fights it. We protest it is not fair, or “God doesn’t work that way.”

As Jesus reminded us, what good is gaining the world and losing our soul? In the end, all but true love for God is lost, so count all else but God as loss now.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Chasms and Warnings

“If they won’t listen to Moses and the prophets, they won’t be persuaded even if someone rises from the dead.” – Luke 16:31

We live in an age of broken dreams and growing chasms: dreams shattered by chasms in thought, dreams crushed by chasms in civility, dreams unrealized by chasms in our perceptions of justice and fairness. The current political climate seemingly consuming the waking hours of so many of us has only widened these chasms.

Regardless of what we read from our favorite social media pundit or hear from cable news “contributors,” chasms are nothing new to humanity. We are not suddenly “more fractured than ever” as one self-appointed arbiter of righteousness recently posted.

Rather, we’ve had to face and cross chasms throughout history, sometimes more successfully than others.  In virtually every case, warning signs were available … and too often ignored.

Warnings Ignored

There’s a well-known parable in the Gospel of Luke I often turn to when grappling with notions of division, strife, and warning signs.

Shortly after sharing the Prodigal Son story in Luke 15, Jesus then describes the contrasting lives of two men in Luke 16: an unnamed rich man and a poor beggar named Lazarus.

In the parable, Jesus sets the stage by describing how the rich man dressed opulently and lived in splendor every day while Lazarus begged for crumbs from the rich man’s table, covered in sores.  There was a gate separating them, with Lazarus lying outside and the rich man safe within.

After both men die, the rich man is sent to Hades and Lazarus is taken by Abraham to heaven. The rich man begs for relief (much as in life Lazarus had begged for food), only to be rebuked by Abraham who responds “between us and you there is a great chasm fixed, so that those who wish to come over from here to you will not be able, and that none may cross over from there to us.”

Where did this chasm come from?  Did God create an artificial barrier separating us into two camps of Heaven dwellers and Hell sufferers?

Some readers mistakenly believe this parable is about afterlives and whether we end up in Heaven or Hell separated for eternity by a chasm of infinite dimension as punishment for our deeds. Instead, Jesus is describing a different chasm, a divide of man’s own insistent making.

In life, the rich man had maintained distance between himself and Lazarus. He built walls around his life, locking himself inside a prison of self-creation. Over time, this prison became surrounded by a chasm so vast that in death not even eternity could bridge it. The chasm was created by the rich man himself.

But the story goes further.

The rich man also had five brothers, all still alive. After Abraham’s rejection, he pleads: “Father Abraham I beg you, send Lazarus to my father’s house, for I have five brothers, that he may warn them so that they may not come to this place of torment.”

The siblings are apparently unaware of their peril. They need to be warned, urgently. The rich man asks that Lazarus be raised from the dead and sent back to warn the rich man’s brothers to change their ways. Abraham denies this second request, indicating the brothers would not listen to a resurrected dead beggar’s warnings since they continued ignoring the teachings of Moses and the Prophets.

Who Are We?

As you read this story, who are you? The rich man wearing purple and feasting every day?  Or do you identify with Lazarus, the poor beggar covered with sores, lying at the gate?  Or perhaps the siblings?

In truth, most of us are neither that rich nor that poor. Yet in this story, it doesn’t matter – they are both already dead.  Thus, we are the siblings. What Abraham couldn’t do (send Lazarus back to tell the brothers), Jesus does with his parable.

The great chasms in our lives are not imposed by God, but are actually divides of our own creation. Yes, there is a great divide between rich and poor in our world, often a chasm of our own making, and this chasm gets deeper with each act of separation, each act of negligence, each act of violence, each act of indifference.

Like the rich man in Jesus’ story, we build gates and walls, digging moats and chasms. We move into exclusive neighborhoods, send our kids to exclusive schools, add “us vs. them” into our everyday language.

Perhaps we see the Lazaruses in our own lives, maybe sympathizing with their plight. Yet even in our compassion do we actually see them as fellow children of God? We offer them crumbs from our tables but do we offer them respect and hospitality? This is the true chasm Jesus describes.

Credit: www.theemotionmachine.com

There seems to be a lot of division between the “us’s” and the “them’s” in our world – differences based on wealth, or race, or faith, or nationality, or a thousand other distinctions. Jesus tells us these distinctions are artificial and ultimately no amount of warning can save us if we refuse to heed God’s call to turn away from the invented chasms in our hearts.

In Paul’s first letter to Timothy, he warns that “those who want to get rich fall into temptation and a snare and many foolish and harmful desires which plunge men into ruin and destruction.” I would argue the same might be said for rich and poor alike.

False Divisions

Anyone seeking to divide along artificial lines falls into the temptation of believing themselves superior to those on the other side of the chasm, placing their trust in that separation rather than God’s appeal for reconciliation. Rather than being generous and compassionate they become hardened and cold. They don’t prioritize their relationships with God and with others. They reject the life that is true life.

And yes, it’s hard work. Society seems wired to exploit what divides us rather than what unites us. Sometimes it seems the chasms are so great we will never cross them.

Yet we are called to be those people, those chasm-crossers. We’re called to level mountains and fill valleys, straightening the paths that lead to God. Every step of the way, God is beside us, reminding us that His Grace and Love can bridge any gap, close any distance.

Jesus tells us in this parable to listen for the warning. To turn away from digging ourselves deeper into isolation. To hear the cry of those who need reconciliation with us. To love God with all our hearts and our minds and our strength, and to love our neighbors as ourselves. No matter who we (or they) are.

We’ve been warned. What are we doing about?

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Why Transformation is So Hard

“And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, so that you may prove what the will of God is, that which is good and acceptable and perfect.” – Romans 12: 2

Transformers hit theatres in 2007 to the delight of 12 year olds (and some former 12 year olds) everywhere.  Over the next ten years and five movies, the franchise earned nearly $4.9 billion worldwide, proving that colorful toy cars – and Megan Fox – can sell movie tickets.

“I swear that was a ’76 Camaro five minutes ago!”

The heroes, Autobots hiding among humans as vehicles, transform into saviors to fight the villainous Decepticons in a battle for the Earth. This war between Good and Evil has obvious parallels to Scripture – a malevolent force with one purpose seeks to destroy God’s plan for redemption. God’s heroes from Scripture are like the Autobots (go with me on this), ordinary human beings transformed into extraordinary agents of God’s Holy Spirit.

A Common Theme

We’re moved by stories of overcoming challenges and obstacles. For Judeo-Christian Believers, the transformation motif is familiar: David transformed from a shepherd into a King by slaying a mighty warrior twice his size; Job transformed from a wealthy man to a pauper and back again; Jacob’s son Joseph transformed from prisoner to supreme administrator of Egypt; Mary transformed from a scared, unwed teenager into the mother of God’s only Son; Saul the Christian persecutor transformed into Paul the Evangelical powerhouse.

The lesson is the same in each example: the conditions of our human birth don’t define us. We aren’t confined by the things of the world simply because we find ourselves in a place or time we did not choose.

Is Positive Thinking Enough

What separates those who break free from their origins from those who don’t? In almost all cases the answer is “attitude.” Secularists call this the power of Positive Psychology (“positive thinking”), but regardless of the label, the evidence overwhelmingly suggests an attitude of positive energy and optimism defeats a dark view of the world.

There’s a great deal of angst in the world today, especially among those who see the past year’s events as apocalyptic. Social media and blogs are filled with the naysayers preaching dire circumstances and end times-like catastrophes. These are the same folks who speak so highly of self-identification and positive affirmations when the political winds blow a different way.

Credit: www.yourerc.com

They just can’t break free from mindsets holding them captive to a world to which they’ve conformed.

Amidst a deluge of self-help gurus, libraries filled with how-to books, endless diets and financial systems, exercise plans for every body type, why are so many of us unable to every truly transform? Why do we continually jump from half-measure to half-measure?

If the power of transformation lies in the application of attitude, how do we remain unchanged?

Where We Place Our Belief

Perhaps the answers lies not in what we want to believe but rather in where we place that belief. Paul reminds us in Romans 12 that when we entrust our belief in things of this world (“conforming”), we receive things of this world. Still we crave more – a new body, a bigger house, a more expensive car, a better personality. We’re never satisfied because we are never transformed.

Christians are no different than non-Christians in their need for transformation. Yet we struggle as well. Why is this the case? Perhaps because this need for transformation is the single barrier the Enemy has to keep us from God. The less satisfied we stay, the more we need rather than experience transformation, the the greater hold Satan has on our lives.

In my own journey, I’ve found four areas I must continually revisit as I strive for Transformation. These are mine – yours might be different.

 1.  Insisting on my will, not God’s.

It’s tempting to think of God as a kind of spiritual ATM: we deposit spiritual credits and we withdraw them on demand. The more “x” we put in (the more we give to the church, the more we show our “goodness,” the more mission trips we take), the more blessings we’ll receive. But the world doesn’t play fair. It pushes back, asking for more every time we give.

God doesn’t equate transactions with transformation. To receive God’s transformational grace we must first understand and seek His will, not our desires. Until we ask God for discernment into His will we will remain untransformed.

2.  Looking to the Church to transform me.

Today’s church can be a wonderful, affirming, and catalyzing place for transformation. But the church itself is not the source for that transformation. In Galatians 6, Paul reminds the congregation in Galatia that the church – both traditional Jews and Gentiles – is nothing except the affirmation of God’s power to transform: “For neither is circumcision anything, nor uncircumcision, but a new creation.”

When we look to the Church rather than to God for our fulfillment, we miss His point that we should be focused vertically first, not horizontally.

 3.  If I try a little harder, I can make change happen.

As a professional and an executive, I’m all about the power of initiative and effort. Yet when I allow that to spill over into my Faith life, I’m often disappointed. Life pushes back. People resist. Our efforts are thwarted.

We can’t force Christianity to transform either our lives or the lives of others. It never works that way.  Instead, we should follow Paul’s advice in Galatians 5:25: “If we live by the Spirit, let us walk with the Spirit.” Following the Spirit enables us to bear the fruit Jesus describes in John 15.

4.  Earning my way to transformation.

Think of the caterpillar metamorphosing into a butterfly. The process is effortless for the caterpillar once it starts. The caterpillar is living on the outside what it knows to be true on the inside. The same is true for us. When we believe ourselves undeserving of grace in our hearts, we often attempt to overcompensate in our actions, trying to earn God’s love. Or worse, we try to earn acceptance from other sources.

The truth, and the truly Good News of the Gospel is that God has already done the heavy lifting. He’s already completed the hard work of transformation. We can add nothing to the perfection of His forgiveness. No effort on our part can “earn” what has already been freely given – we simply have to receive it and let it happen.

Paul writes in 2 Corinthians 3:18 that we are all being transformed into God’s image when we take off our masks and contemplate His glory. Not our will, but His. Not our church, but His Spirit. Not our efforts, but His work.

In the end, we’re not simply Hollywood-created Autobots who magically transform ourselves into humanity-saving heroes. As Christians, we need reminding just as the new church did in Paul’s time that the only true transformation comes through the Will and Spirit of God.

This week, let go of your belief in self-transformation. Remember that God has already done the work. Simply allow that work to change you, spread your wings, and fly.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Twelve Days of Advent – #11 Not A Silent Night

“And suddenly there appeared with the angel a multitude of the heavenly host praising God and saying, ‘Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace among men.’” (Luke 2:13)

As a worship leader I get to play a lot of music throughout the year. No time is more enjoyable for me than Advent and Christmas. The songs, the vocals, the arrangements, they all bring the season alive for me.

One of my favorite Christmas Season songs for worship is Andrew Peterson’s “Labor of love” (If you’ve never heard it, find a version here). The song is a unique reinterpretation of the traditional “Silent Night.” Rather than a quiet, peaceful version of Jesus’ birth, the lyrics depict a grittier, harsher world welcoming the Son of Man.

When we look at miniature nativity scenes, do we see something like this?

A radiant Mary, loving Joseph, gentle shepherds leaning on their staffs, perhaps a few wise men looking on with knowing smiles, glorious Angels heralding the miracle, a peaceful donkey and a couple of sheep … all focused on a beaming baby Jesus. A perfectly calm picture of tranquility, sanitized and airbrushed for our consumption.

Yet I imagine the real nativity scene was quite different.

A Different Night

To begin with, what must it have been like for Joseph to take a nearly full-term Mary the 80+ hilly and winding miles on foot or riding a donkey from Nazareth to Bethlehem in response to the census decree from Caesar described in Luke 2? The tiny village of Bethlehem, by that time a sleepy town of about 300 people, would have swelled in size because of the census, on that night packed and noisy. The crowds were likely disgruntled at the inconvenience of the Roman census, pushing and shoving each other on the narrow streets.

On the road from Nazareth to Bethlehem today. Credit: www.nortonwheeler.com

Or consider the “shepherds in the fields” in verse 8. Imagine being these men, used to watching over their flocks all night, fighting off predators and poachers. They’re in no way timid or meek. Yet nothing has prepared them for the sight of an other-worldly being appearing from the skies and announcing the news of Jesus’ birth. Scripture tells us they were “terrified.”

Fear can be a powerful motivator. It causes us to be mistrustful and hurtful to each other. It closes our minds to those with whom we disagree. It causes us to lash out at those we see as different. We like our worlds to remain unchanging and predictable.

These shepherds had their worlds completely disrupted. Yet the Angel calms them, tells them not to be afraid and is joined a “multitude of the heavenly hosts” joining in praise.

Hardly a quiet night on the hillside.

Back at the stable and the manger, things are hardly more subdued. Unable to find accommodations Joseph was forced to bargain for a corner in a barn, probably suffering disdainful looks from other, more fortunate people who had warm fires and comfortable beds or pallets.

Mary has given birth – likely without a midwife or the comforting hands of her mother – surrounded by the raucous livestock of both Bethlehem’s residents and the visitors also there to complete the census. The scene is chaotic, noisy, dirty, and crowded.

Hardly the picture of a silent night.

Noisy Lives

Many of us can relate to this more realistic picture of Jesus’ birth. Like that night, our lives are gritty and crowded rather than airbrushed and pristine. Our days and nights are noisy, messy, often filled with angry voices and disdainful looks. We’re bombarded every day with messages of angst, anxiety, uncertainty.

Hope gives way to fear. Fear leads us to dread the future, uncertain of how we’ll get from day to day. We pray for grace and help while a nagging voice whispers deep inside us “what if He doesn’t answer?” Like the people of Israel during that long pause before Christ’s birth, we question how long we must wait for deliverance.

And so, we retreat inside ourselves, guarded and protective of our hearts, unwilling to engage the world in open and welcoming ways. Rejecting the needs of others, we focus on our own needs.

Credit: Billy Hunt

Hardly the makings of perfect lives.

In the midst of the chaos surrounding her, how did Mary respond? Scripture tells us she “treasured all these things, pondering them in her heart.” Mary’s answer to the pandemonium and disorder surrounding her was to praise God for His providence, thankful for the blessing He had bestowed. She prayed and opened this most vulnerable moment of her life to everyone around her, sharing freely the precious gift God and given to mankind.

Forgetful Souls

Sometimes, even during Advent and Christmas, it’s easy for us to suffer from what 9th century Irish theologian John Scotus Eriugena called “forgetfulness of soul.” We forget to love, forget to give, forget to extend our hand to others. We sing carols, go to parties, buy tons of gifts but do not, as Mary did, “treasure things in our hearts.”

Today, this Eve of Arrival, let us remember that beyond the celebrations and decorations, the true meaning of Emmanuel, “God With Us” is as close as the next person we see. We were made in God’s image, created to emulate Him and love each other openly, abundantly, and without fear even in the midst of chaos.

God has never been silent, if we have ears to hear. He has never been invisible, if we have eyes to see. He invites us to encounter Him when we protect the weak, lift up the downtrodden, seek peace in the midst of enmity.

The angel proclaimed to the shepherds: “Do not be afraid; for behold, I bring you good news of great joy which will be for all the people.” As you celebrate this Christmas Eve, this closing of Advent, proclaim the Good News: Arrival is Nigh.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Twelve Days of Advent – #7 Stormy Weather

“Consider it all joy, my brethren, when you encounter various trials, knowing that the testing of your faith produces endurance. And let endurance have its perfect result, so that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.”—James 1:2-4

I was recently at dinner with a few guy friends. Predictably, we talked about typical guy things. Because we’re all of a “certain age,” our “guy things” talk was relatively tame. Relatively.

Credit: www.wisebread.com

However … one member of our party broke an unspoken “guy” rule in my crowd: don’t complain about the weather. Not the real weather, of course. Rather, the weather of our relationships, the weather of lives. The weather we can’t control but we can certainly anticipate. “Don’t blame the weather for getting wet when you forgot to bring an umbrella,” one of my, um, “older” guy friends fondly says.

Life is tough.

Look, life is tough. We live in a world where the deck appears to be stacked against most of us. In Christian terms we call this a “fallen world,” a world where a very real and present enemy works to stain every part of our lives with fear and doubt and uncertainty.

Glass breaks. We get old (yeah, I know that’s hard to hear). Marriages fall apart. Loved ones get addicted to Opiates. Parents forget our names. Sexual harassment becomes an accepted norm. Alcohol and drugs are so common our children need rehab at 14 years old. A gun becomes a more persuasive argument than reason.

Credit: New York Times

In 1944 Ella Fitzgerald and the Inkspots released a single called “Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall.” They borrowed the title from the poem “Rainy Day” by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Both Ella and Longfellow spoke truth. But I prefer the original truth from Ecclesiastes 3 “For everything this is a season.”

Storm clouds are always on the horizon. Life pushes back. This is especially hard to accept during seasons of anticipation. Seasons like Advent when God may seem silent and unreachable. Seasons where we are asked to wait and trust.

The War Inside Us

The stormy weather of our lives should not be surprising, especially for those of us actively attempting to reject the temptations of the material world, the seductions of a physical life. It’s not easy to resist.

Paul tells us of the “Conflict of Two Natures” in Romans 7, a war being waged inside each of us. He reflects that in Galatians 5:17, writing “For the flesh sets its desire against the Spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh.”

Credit: www.kingdomrice.wordpress.com

The temptations of the world, particularly in seasons of waiting, are like tornadoes in Kansas. We anticipate the storm clouds, we feel the wind, we eventually see the funnel hit the ground yet sometimes we don’t seek shelter.

While we live in a fallen world and bad things happen to us, we always have control over how we respond – whether we bring an umbrella or head underground or simply give in.

Yet in every instance of adversity or waiting, we have a choice. We can choose to look backward or we can move forward. Notice we can’t actually go backward, only look there. And we really can’t stay where we are as life moves on around us. So, we can look back or move forward.

Storms Strengthen Us

James tells us in the verse I began with that the testing of our faith builds perseverance. Surviving storms makes us stronger to future storms. Meeting and defeating temptation and doubt tempers us, transforms us, like hardening steel with fire.

We see this transformation in our choices. We can feel joy or bitterness. We can forgive or hold onto anger. We can trust or be suspicious of everyone. We can be filled with faith or plagued with fear. We can love or we can hate. We can offer mercy or seek revenge.

We can fill our hearts with hope. Or we can sink into despair.

Stormy weather and hard seasons are not meant to weaken us, but rather to strengthen us. They offer us opportunities to reinforce our trust and faith in God by hearing His voice and rejoicing in His salvation. Especially when the clouds are darkest…

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Twelve Days of Advent – #3 Why?

“The righteous person may have many troubles, but the Lord delivers him from them all.” Psalm 34:19

Pain. Loss. They’re difficult.

In the past 14 months I’ve lost my beloved mother, my amazing father-in-law, four high school and college classmates and two friends from church. Eight losses in such a short span of time. And if my social media feeds are any indication, multiple other friends and acquaintances are suffering from any number of afflictions.

In many ways, this Advent Season feels very much like a Season of Suffering.

It’s in times of suffering and loss that many of us get closer to God. Or, sadly, farther away. Things happen. Sometimes unexpected. Sometimes expected but dreaded. Sometimes pointless and preventable. Sometimes unspeakably tragic.

As Believers, how do we cope with such losses? Our immediate and understandable reaction is “Why, God? Why did you let this happen?” Often, we echo the words of the prophet Habakkuk who wrote 600 years before Jesus’s birth:

“How long, O Lord, will I call for help,
And You will not hear?
I cry out to You, ‘Violence!’
Yet You do not save.” (Habakkuk 1:2)

It’s natural to want explanations, to seek answers. If we can understand God’s Will and His purpose, we can accept His plan. When we don’t have those answers, we often remain trapped in a cycle of “if only” and “I/he/she/they should have.”  Without an explanation, our lives can splinter into 10,000 fragmented pieces impossible to put back together.

Answers give us closure, and closure allows us to move on.

Unthinkable Trust

It often seems God asks the impossible of us. To simply trust Him when we have no way of understanding how or why. To turn our lives over to Him in complete obedience, submit to His sovereignty when nothing is certain. To accept His purpose even when we can make no sense of what He wants.

Unthinkable trust. Unreasonable faith. Unfathomable belief.

This isn’t what many of us expected when we accepted the baptismal call. God never mentioned trust in Him might require surviving illness, death, shattered marriages, lost jobs, ruined finances. With every tragedy, our faith is tested, raising the familiar questions of those around us who don’t share our beliefs. “How can a loving God let this happen? Why do you believe in fairy tales? Why don’t you realize the truth that we’re alone in this world?”

Freedom Through Trust

Trust us difficult. Trust requires unnatural reactions to what the world throws at us. We want to question, to revisit, to blame. With every passing moment, our efforts to understand make us more anxious, more angry, more hurt. The very thing we try to help us through the pain makes that pain more real.

Yet with every moment God is whispering to us that His will is in motion, His purposes are at work. If we simply trust. Eventually, through acceptance and trust and submission and belief something amazing and transformational happens – we begin to heal.

The Sacrifice of Isaac by Caravaggio, 1603

It’s a mystery, a paradox. The same process we fight against is the very process that frees us. Jesus tells us in John 8:32 “and you will know the truth, and the truth will make you free.” That truth, the only real Truth, is that when we trust in God and His infinite wisdom – as hard as that might be – we find peace and purpose.

God is the Answer to Our “Why?”

As strange as it seems, suffering invites us to see God in ways we’ve never imagined. Just as Job learned to trust in God more deeply and completely after his trials and tests, we learn how possible it is to trust God with our own lives through grief and suffering.

When we place our trust in God, even in the face of things and events we may never understand, a beautiful transformation takes place. Although we may not have a concrete answer, we’ll find peace that God truly does cause “all things to work together for good to those who love God, to those who are called according to His purpose.” (Romans 8:28)

There are always “whys” to our suffering, no matter how difficult that suffering might be. While we may never fully understand the reasons for our grief, during this Advent Season we can take comfort in one ultimate truth. When we surrender our “whys” to God, He will always answer with the perfect answer: Himself.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

 

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Not “My” Sin

“I acknowledged my sin to You, and my iniquity I did not hide; I said, ‘I will confess my transgressions to the Lord;’ and You forgave the guilt of my sin.” – Psalm 32:5

“Look – it’s not like I don’t know it’s probably wrong, but God understands me and He knows I’m gonna sin anyway. So I’m ok.” The words hung thickly in a  noisy coffee shop as I listened to my companion unpack his story of infidelity, hoping I might offer the equivalent of a spiritual high-five.

It took a moment and another sip of coffee for me to absorb the depth of the comment from this friend I’ve known for a number of years.

“I’m ok.” Two simple words that, used in the wrong context, plunge countless souls over the cliff of false security. You may have heard this sentiment under different phrases: “God loves me just the way I am,” is a popular claim. “Why would a loving God send anyone to hell? As long as I accept Christ I don’t have to change,” argues another. And “Jesus never actually said that,” is the current rage with the Progressive Christian crowd.

How can self-professing followers of Christ hold such seemingly contrarian views to clear and unambiguous guidance from scripture? A couple of answers come to mind.

Confess and Carry On

For centuries, the role of confession has played a prominent role in both Protestant and Catholic denominations. Canons 12 and 13 of the First Council of Nicaea in 325 hint at the necessity of confession. In 459 Pope Saint Leo the Great (the very same Pope who turned back Attila the Hun’s attack on Italy) wrote “It is sufficient … to have first offered one’s confession to God, and then also to the priest, who acts as an intercessor for the transgressions of the penitents.”

Credit: www.epicpew.com

The argument for confession is that when someone unburdens themselves through sharing their deepest, most desperate secrets they form a private and intimate trust with God’s intermediary, thus opening the door for God to restore their relationship.

Unfortunately, in the case of my friend – like so many others – confession often replaces repentance, becoming a substitute for a truly changed heart. Substitutionary confession proclaims “There, I said it. I’m good now until it happens again. See ya next week.”  In these instances, words replace transformation and the “saved” soul is just a “guilty conscience.”

We see a lot of this in today’s culture. Politicians discovered taking bribes, only to admit their sorrow at how they disappointed constituents. Celebrities caught in years of sexual harassment, explaining away their behavior as a “generational” thing. High school teachers accused of having inappropriate relationships with students, apologizing for any pain experienced by colleagues or parents.

What’s missing? Actual repentance. No real change of heart, just regret at being exposed. Their actions aren’t the problem, the consequences of those actions are.

Paul cautions against this belief in Romans 6:1-4: “What shall we say then? Are we to continue in sin so that grace may increase? May it never be! How shall we who died in sin still live in it?”

God’s grace and forgiveness isn’t offered as a reprieve from the “all you can eat” sin buffet, continually filling our plates and indulging our appetites while having our weekly spiritual purge. Rather, He offers grace to entirely change the menu.

Scripture is Misunderstood

This argument is a bit more difficult, mostly because it’s so charged with identity politics. The approach typically follows the path of “Jesus never really said that,” or “the Old Testament was written before science understood XYZ,” or one of my favorites: “words don’t really mean what they seem to mean.”

Underlying this belief is a passage found near the very beginning of scripture, in Genesis 3: “The serpent said to the woman, ‘You surely will not die! For God knows that in the day you eat from it your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil.’”

“God doesn’t really mean what He says,” Satan whispers to Eve. Why? Because if God is serious and humans understood that sin creates eternal separation from Him, the power of temptation would evaporate.

Since mankind’s Fall, we’ve tried to re-interpret and “refine” God’s explicit instructions. The Old Testament is essentially the chronicle of our repeated failure to obey God’s commandments through the unfolding story of the nation of Israel, while the New Testament records the ultimate rejection of God’s law in the Crucifixion of Christ.

Yeah, it’s in there…

We’ve not really evolved much as 20th and 21st Century believers. Falling into sin remains, at its core, the rejection of God’s sovereignty. Instead of finding our identities in God’s design, we define God through our identities. Rather than adhering to God’s will, we demand our will.

In creating our own identities, we open the door to any and all interpretations of God’s plan, based solely on what we feel and believe about ourselves. Thus, we self-label as “true” Christians regardless of how many fundamental tenets we reject simply because we don’t believe they apply to us.

This philosophy claims my sin is not really sin if I believe it defines who I see myself to be – for as we read in Psalm 139:14 “I am fearfully and wonderfully made.” Therefore, God must love me because He made me this way.

Credit: 412teens.org

Any call to change who I am – regardless of what may be found in “outdated” scriptures – would imply God made a mistake with me. Being perfectly unblemished and perfectly tolerant, God would never make that mistake. So what you call sin, I (and my God) call self-realization. In the words of celebrity pastors such as Hillsong’s Carl Lentz, “People just have to live out their own convictions.”

There’s so much to unpack there it would take volumes explore. Yet God, in His infinite and mysterious mastery of grace, allows us our freedom to fall or to soar, to enter or reject His Kingdom saying “ok then, not My will but your will be done.”

The clearest mission

As Christians, we’re charged with a clear and unambiguous mission – love each other and those around us while focusing every ounce of our faith and belief on God’s ultimate sovereignty over our lives. Then, share the Good News of Salvation through Christ, confronting errant or false teachings with candor and honesty.

This can be terribly difficult when what we believe about ourselves conflicts with what God has revealed to us as His Truth.

After my friend shared his story I paused, not sure how real he wanted me to be. I could see his desire for approval, but I also felt called to hold up a mirror.

I reminded him that God never smiles on sin, that infidelity is called out directly as an affront to His desire for us. I shared the words of Christian apologist Ravi Zacharias: “When a man says ‘I do’ to his wife, he is simultaneously saying ‘I don’t’ to everyone else.”

True confession results in what Paul refers to as “Godly sorrow,” bringing repentance “that leads to salvation” (2 Corinthians 7:10). Without repentance, there is no changed heart. An unchanged heart is simply our way of going through the motions, asking God’s permission to continue in our sin without being accountable for the results.

Sin is not what we choose it to be. The world’s definition of the Good News is what A.W. Pink described as “Salvation by character.” Once we give up our belief in our own sovereignty and choose God, Salvation reveals itself as something entirely different: a character built by, and because of Salvation.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Trust Has Consequences

Jesus said to them, ‘They need not go away; you give them something to eat.’ They replied, ‘We have nothing here but five loaves and two fish.’ And he said, ‘Bring them here to me.’ Matthew 14:16-18

A friend recently asked if I played Scrabble. Now admittedly it’s been years since the game even crossed my mind, so I headed to the game closet and found a dusty boxed set. Spreading out a fistful of random letters from the box I was surprised to see the first five were “U-R-T-S-T.” Rearranged, they spelled “Trust.” And it occurred to me that there was a message in that. A message that had been pounding away at me for a while. A message about trust.

Born trusting

Ever noticed the look in a five year old’s eyes, wide as blue saucers and filled with laughter when you tell them something – anything – that captures their imagination? Hope and belief shine so bright from their faces it lights up the room. The light of trust.

Trust is born into us, as strong and real as our five senses. As children we ooze trust from every pore, holding onto it with blank-stared wonder, like the deer I see every day in Austin crossing the road with fearless (sometimes mindless) conviction that my two-ton vehicle will not transform them into early morning road kill.

This kind of trust is beautiful in its simplicity, inspiring in its breadth. Our parents worry constantly, fearing we’ll trust everyone, including the wrong people, until we eventually wind up as little pictures on milk cartons.

Yet somewhere along the way, jammed between crushed middle school hearts and broken promises from grown-ups who never quite understood that soccer games – even when we lose – are just as important as conference calls; sometime before the fairy tale wedding but after Santa’s last visit, trust is often replaced by something else.

“What is this trust thing you speak of?”

My erudite friends back East (the ones who’ve made art forms out of weekend brunch and the methodical dissection of the Sunday Times) would call this replacement of trust “discernment” or “sophistication.” Not for them the naiveté of innocence and faith in stuff or people unknown or unseen. Rather, they view all things through the jaundiced eye of cynical skepticism, confident in their abilities to see through the motives and fabrications of the world around them.

“Why, really,” they say between sips of mimosas and bites of fresh pastries, “no one ever takes anything at face value anymore.”

On the other hand, my seasoned pals in Tejas (for ya’ll Northern types that’s local slang for “God’s Own Backyard”) might put it another way: “Wise up, bro – everybody’s got an angle.” Then they’d tell me to work on my bluffing skills ‘cause they “just feel awful” taking my money at Wednesday night poker.

Chronic suspicion syndrome

Most of us eventually lose our innate ability to trust, replaced by a very grown-up attitude: chronic suspicion syndrome. CSS usually creeps into our lives silently, unseen, in devious ways. We begin questioning this or that and eventually find ourselves suspicious of everything and everyone around us – their motives, their actions, their words. We sometimes even lose our trust in God. Unchecked, the lack of trust can rage out of control, destroying relationships and lives.

Funny thing is, while we lose the ability to trust others, we’re offended and hurt when those around us don’t place their trust in our every word. We want their belief, we crave their trust. That has certainly been true in my case. I even thought about inventing a magic elixir once to give me that special “trustworthiness” scent. Just spray on a squirt or two of every morning and everyone I meet will trust me.

“I’ve found it! The magic elixir to make everyone trust me!”

Turns out somebody beat me to it! A laboratory in New York claims to have bottled “trust” in a special formula called Liquid Trust. Yes, it sounds a bit over the top, but there really us a product called Liquid Trust. It contains nothing more exotic than a natural and odorless hormone called oxcytocin that plays a large role in childbirth, breast-feeding, and romantic love. Oh, it also throws in the pheromones Androstenone and Androsterone for good measure.

The trust deficit

Magic potions aside, we often seem trapped in a “trust deficit” keeping us looking over our shoulders and double-checking our locks. Why is trust so rare? Why do we want so desperately for people to trust us while we can’t seem to trust them? Why does it seem in the dialogue between trust and suspicion, suspicion usually seems to win?

Trust is one of the crucial questions facing humans, believers and non-believers alike. Think about something as common place as today’s politics. The mistrust between Democrats and Republicans has led to a toxic environment in which every word is scrutinized by the opposing side for ulterior motives. Or a broken relationship where an honest mistake by one person leads their partner to question every action they take.

We see the impact of eroding trust it in the rise of violent crime, civil litigation, breakdown of family structures (neighborhoods, churches, unions, clubs, charities), lack of shared values with neighbors, etc. It surrounds and penetrates us.

Yet there is an antidote, a remedy as close as the nearest bookshelf or nightstand. Scripture offers a compelling lens through which to view the human condition, and how trust in ourselves rather than God’s ability to provide almost inevitably leads to disillusionment and emptiness.

The episode from the passage in Matthew at the beginning of this message is a clear illustration of how God calls us to trust in His abundance rather than our own ability to provide. Interestingly, the story of 5,000 being fed from five fish and two loaves is one of the few episodes from Jesus’ ministry outside the crucifixion and resurrection to be recounted in all four Gospels. Matthew’s version opens with Jesus hearing of the beheading of John the Baptist. Jesus’ response is not surprising: he withdraws. Not only is he grieving over the death of his cousin, but he is sorrowful that John’s death is a precursor to his own.

The local people who have begun following Jesus with fanatical devotion pursue him to what Matthew describes as a “deserted place” implying no nearby inns or places to rest and eat – after all, the nearest McDonald’s drive through is still 20 centuries away. When evening comes, the crowds need to eat. Jesus’ initial response is to tell his disciples to give the people food, prompting the disciples to remind him they have only five fishes and two loaves and suggest instead sending the crowd away. Jesus ignores this seemingly logical suggestion and calls for the fishes and loaves to be brought forth. After blessing them, he gives the food to the disciples who in turn distribute it to the crowd, eventually gathering twelve baskets of leftovers.

Credit: https://www.pinterest.com/swallowdale

What happened here? What is God telling us about trust? A couple of things. First, God is saying anything is possible if we believe in His will. Jesus faced a seemingly impossible challenge and yet never thought of scarcity. Instead, he trusted in God and believed in abundance. God is saying “don’t tell Me what you lack, tell Me what you are moved to do.” If we take our needs to God He will provide.

Second, we’re being compelled to take action. Deuteronomy 9:23-24 implores us to “Trust and obey” God in all things. Not “trust when you feel like it and obey when you can” or “trust or obey” or “trust, then perhaps obey” – it’s trust and obey. In the episode from Matthew, the disciples neither trusted nor obeyed when Jesus said “you feed them.” Instead, Jesus had to make obvious for them what God asks from each of us.

Restoring trust

The natural question then, is “how?” In a world immersed in distrust, how can we let go of our suspicious nature and trust in the ultimate authority and power of God’s will? Here are three suggestions that work for me:

  1. Turn to trustworthy sources. For believers, there is no greater source of truth than Scripture. The Book of Psalms (specifically Psalms 11, 16, 23, 62, 121) are great sources for strength. Other passages I’ve found compelling are Jeremiah 17:7, Isaiah 26:3 and 1 Peter 5:7.
  2. Give up on the illusion of Control. One of the hardest lessons I’ve ever learned is there is a God, and I’m not Him. I’m not in control. I have never been in control. I never will be in control. Not of everything, not of anything.
  3. Put trust at the very heart of faith. As a Believer, my perspective on the world is one of radical trust, a willingness to trust God and, therefore, an ability to trust others. As a body of Believers we must personify this trust. Our evangelism to a postmodern culture must proclaim a God who can be trusted to take care of us, to take hold of us, to heal us, to save us, and a community that can itself be trusted.

A word of caution. Living a life built on trust has consequences. You actually have to believe in others, and accept that they believe in you. And be prepared when they do. Be prepared when their belief in you sometimes exceeds your belief in yourself. Be prepared when God believes in us even when we’ve lost all hope in Him.

There’s a $1 dollar bill pinned to a board next to my desk as I write this. On the back are the words “In God We Trust.” Four simple words. Can we really live by them?

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Shibboleths and Bigger Tables

“Then said they unto him, Say now Shibboleth: and he said Sibboleth: for he could not frame to pronounce it right. Then they took him, and slew him at the passages of Jordan: and there fell at that time of the Ephraimites forty and two thousand.” – Judges 12:6

 Polish-born American rabbi Abraham Joshua Heschel, one of the leading Jewish theologians and Jewish philosophers of the 20th century, wrote: “Speech has power. Words do not fade. What starts out as a sound, ends in a deed.” Rabbi Heschel knew the impact words have on the world.

Those closest to me know my love of words, and their power to create, shape, hurt, divide, and even destroy. Shibboleth – a term originating from the Hebrew word shibbólet (שִׁבֹּלֶת‎) and referenced in the passage from Judges 12 above – has long been a word used to divide and separate. In today’s language, shibboleth has also taken on a wider meaning, referring to any “in-group” word or phrase distinguishes members of a group from outsiders.

Credit: Faithandleadership.com

I was reminded of shibboleths this week while discovering a new website recently launched to “score” churches on how affirming they are of the current en vogue shibboleth: gender/sexual orientation. This site, whose leadership team is composed entirely of individuals rejecting anyone not speaking into their view of truth on the subject of unqualified acceptance and advocacy, is similar to other outspoken proponents on this topic ranging from pastors hoping to demonstrate enlightened cultural sensitivity to outright opportunists with impressive sounding credentials like “20-year ministry veteran trying to love people well and to live out-out the red letters of Jesus” who seize on cultural events to advance their personal need for adoration. As if those truly called to ministry ever exit as veterans (see 2 Timothy 4:7 on an authentic view of ministry).

I’ve referenced neither the site nor the pastor(s) in question – they don’t need additional promoting here and some of you may already know (or even follow) their teachings. My issue is not their belief structure, but rather a seemingly myopic and unrelenting insistence that Scripture is inherently wrong or misunderstood on this subject. And a demand that Christians clarify where they stand or be labeled as intolerant and “phobic.”

Their basic reasoning goes something like this. Scripture, while divinely inspired, has been “misinterpreted” by man. The writers of the 66 books in the current Protestant Canonical Bible wrote with a limited understanding of biology and science, with no way to fully appreciate the fluidity of gender identity and sexual expression afforded by 2,000 years of scientific advancement. To ascribe “truth” to the teaching of Biblical writers is, well, simply unintelligent and backward.

Good old-fashioned fundamentalism

One could spend an entire 3-years of seminary dissecting the intellectual flaws in this argument. Perhaps I’ll tackle that in another post. For now, I’ll make a different case. Proponents of single-issue Bible errancy is nothing new. Pick your pet doctrine and throughout history there have been those who will argue that the Bible is wrong because their belief is different.

In many ways, this is no different than good, old-fashioned fundamentalism. Endless versions of fundamentalism exist across Christian belief but one of my favorites to highlight is the King James Only movement. Essentially, these folks believe the King James Version of the Bible is the sole authentic and accurate English translation from the most reliable Greek New Testament manuscripts (the Textus Receptus or Majority Text). According the KJV-only advocates, all other translations have been corrupted either through negligence or intent.

Codex Vaticanus 354 S (028), an uncial codex with a Byzantine text

Fundamentalism of all stripes (but especially these two types) suffer from a number of strikingly similar problems, especially for Christians searching for a true and faithful walk. Here are a couple.

Rejecting historical truth for culturally-acceptable litmus tests

Those who believe a single translation from 1611 (or 1769) is the only legitimate English translation of the Bible ignore common sense and the rigor of sound scholarship born out over hundreds of years. Those advocating Biblical neutrality on gender relations simply misread or misinterpret the literal writing of scripture. Either way, in both cases advocates begin with a point of view and then search for justification rather than starting with the source text and reading for discernment. And often the “experts” they bring to their arguments are either self-taught, have qualifications unrelated to Biblical scholarship or determine they can play arm-chair psychoanalysts on scripture writers.

 Grounded in Gnosticism

Flourishing throughout the Mediterranean world in the second century AD, the Gnostics believed they alone possessed “secret” knowledge that made them somehow more enlightened. Modern stepchildren of Gnostic beliefs are convinced they are purveyors of the single truth and those disagreeing with them are unenlightened, uneducated, or heretics. KJV-onlyists believe they’re in on a conspiracy to corrupt the original intent of Bible writers driven by a diabolical agenda. Gender-neutralists argue they alone have determined the true, enlightened meaning of the Bible on this subject and those who disagree are morally inferior or simply unenlightened.

Single issue dividing lines

In both cases, their chosen issue is the “single greatest question” facing the Christian faith – a modern shibboleth, as it were. To the KSV-onlyist, a fellow Believer reading from a translation such as New International Version, Revised Standard Version, New English Translation, etc. is receiving heretical teaching from contaminated Bibles created by liberals bent on perverting the Word. To gender neutralists, the modern church is anti-God if it doesn’t embrace with unquestioned acceptance their definition love.

To be clear, I assume no evil intent from either of these camps. Unlike some strains of fundamentalism that maliciously twist religious dogma to fit a worldview of domination or enslavement, these folks aren’t executing a veiled, hidden agenda to challenge God’s Word or authority.

They instead claim a special interpretation of scripture which fits their view of the world rather than the divinely inspired will of God. They then use that interpretation to determine who can be inside their group, and who is excluded because of their moral or religious shortcomings.

A recent book by one of these advocates with a title evoking expanding the table of grace (again, I’ve decided not promote either of these camps here) makes the argument that God’s Love is not the “limited view” described in scripture but is rather something larger, a place where no one is rejected, no one is asked to change who they believe themselves to be, a place where sin has no clear definition.

What struck me when I read the book (which I did), was how the very thesis of the work itself was negated in the Introduction, where the implication was given that anyone not subscribing to the author’s worldview was somehow “outside.” The author went further in a blog post from a few days ago suggesting anyone who questioned his vehemence was unwelcome at his Bigger Table.

The true bigger table

We read in Luke 5 that after calling the tax collector Levi to follow him, Jesus joined Levi’s friends (fellow tax collectors and other identified sinners) for dinner. When confronted by fundamentalist Pharisees and scribes to explain why he was socializing with sinners, Jesus offered an answer that beautifully reconciles the notions of invitation, grace, repentance, and redemption: “It is not those who are well who need a physician, but those who are sick. I have not come to call the righteous but sinners to repentance.”

God’s invitation and His table are, indeed, open to all – regardless of where we stand on this or that social issue, no matter how far from grace we may have strayed. The choice to “pull up a chair” is, indeed, ours.

Yet unlike the no-consequences theology of many in the modern “acceptance” movement, or the narrow single-issue theology of fundamentalism, God’s invitation has a single explicit price – repentance. We can come as we are, but to stay we must change, turning away from the life of denial and rebellion where He met us.

“Go and sin no more,” Jesus told the adulteress in John 8. Notice that he didn’t say “Welcome to the party, woman – now go and sin some more.”

Accepting a seat at God’s Bigger Table implies changing our hearts. It means leaving behind our insistence on pursuing the transgressions always whispering to us, the erection of walls to separate us from each other, or the belief that anything we do must be from God and is therefore acceptable in His eyes.

Shibboleths protected the Gileadites in their battle against the Ephramites at the fords of Jordon. Today, they simply serve as obstacles to a fully-realized Kingdom.  Jesus’ invitation is simple:

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Still Here…

“For this reason you also must be ready; for the Son of Man is coming at an hour when you do not think He will.” – Matthew 24:4

I opened my eyes this morning and … the world was still here. Now granted, I wasn’t expecting the rapture but there’s been so much hype around September 23, 2017 and the Revelation 12 Sign, the mysterious Planet X, earthquakes in Mexico City and Los Angeles and Japan, the endless Category 5 Hurricanepocolypse of 2017, Donald Trump addressing the United Nations, North Korea and their nuclear ambitions , Super Mosquitos spreading Super Malaria … it’s felt like we were in the middle of a Matthew 24 end times prophecy from Jesus.

Not quite the end

Of course, this is clearly not the end as so much of Jesus’ end of days depiction has not yet materialized and I’m apparently still able to write this. For instance, even though persecutions of Christians have increased around the world, they haven’t yet risen to the apocalyptic proportions of the Left Behind series. And while we’re on that subject, I didn’t see Drudge Report flashing the sudden disappearance of millions of people overnight.

Nor have we seen the Abomination of Desolation standing in the holy place. And with all respects to Rick Warren’s PEACE Plan, the gospel has surely NOT been “preached in the whole world as a testimony to all the nations.”

“Aren’t we there yet, God?” (credit: nowtheendbegins.com)

Now that we’ve established the world hasn’t ended and our best efforts to guess at Christ’s return have once again been thwarted, let’s have a word of honesty. Go ahead, lean in on this one.

The central, yet least understood foundation of Christian faith is the return of Jesus Christ to establish his kingdom. “Then they will see the Son of Man coming in clouds with great power and glory,” (Mark 13:26), (Luke 21:27). Yet, “(Of) that day or hour no one knows, not even the angels in heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone.” (Mark 13:32).

Almost since the day following Jesus’ ascension, many have tried to second guess the Mark 13 passage.  In 500 A.D. Hippolytus of Rome, Sextus Julius Africanus, and Irenaeus predicted Jesus would return based on the dimensions of Noah’s Ark.  German monk and mathematician Michael Stifel  published a work stating categorically that Christ would return at 8:00 am on October 19, 1533 (presumably local time).  In 1844 American Baptist preacher William Miller proclaimed Jesus would return on October 22. His slightly missed guess came to be known as The Great Disappointment. And then there was Harold Camping’s famous prediction the world would come to a fiery end on October 21, 2011. Other near misses can be found here.

“No, really – set your sundial. 8:00 am for sure.”

Yet still, Jesus told us what to look for. We will have signs, we’ll actually see Jesus return, but no one knows when. Folks are going out to dinner, getting married, watching TV, working their jobs, arguing about politics, posting their uber-filtered pics on social media – in other words, everything will be absolutely normal, until the moment it isn’t. Sounds like a perfect recipe for prophetic sensationalism.

Scripture tells us to prepare

Fortunately for Believers, scripture also tells us to prepare. “You must also be ready,” Jesus said in Matthew 24:44. “The day of the Lord will come just like a thief in the night,” Paul writes in 1 Thessalonians 5:2. “But the day of the Lord will come like a thief,”  declares Peter (2 Peter 3:10). The message is clear – we should stand ready for the Christ’s return every day of our lives.

Sadly, the vast majority of people in the world – even many Christians – live their lives as though Jesus never promised to return. If you and I were honest, we might admit to our own negligent view of the future.

“The Agony in the Garden,” Andrea Mantegna 1458

In the moment of his most significant trial, Jesus took three disciples with him to the Garden of Gethsemane (Peter, John and James). Asking them to stay vigilant, Jesus stepped away to pray. Returning, Jesus found them sleeping and said “So, you men could not keep watch with me for one hour? Keep watching and praying that you may not enter into temptation,” (Matthew 26:40-41).

This happened three times and on the third instance Jesus chided “Are you still sleeping and resting? Behold, the hour is at hand,” (Matthew 26:45).

Lulled into complacency

Idle speculation, dramatized rumors, false predictions, endless distractions – these and a thousand other diversions lull us into complacency. The decades pass, Jesus still hasn’t shown up and we get busy with other things. We sleep while God extends His hand. We ignore the signs around us, unable to “analyze this present time,” as Jesus told the crowds in Luke 12:56. We search endlessly for signs of what God has already revealed.

The Greek Christian Bishop Origen Adamantius wrote in 212 A.D. “In a certain sense, the end of the world has already come for the person to whom the world is crucified.” In other words, for those of us who are dead to worldly things, the day of the Lord has already arrived – we are just awaiting Christ’s return.

And yet, his return is not quite here. The charge is not to awake from our slumber, but to stay awake with watchful endurance. Jesus calls us to be ready, or in a different sense, always be becoming ready. We find certainty based on the dependability of God’s character, not the accuracy of our predictions. We prepare for Jesus’ return not to figure out a puzzle, but rather to trust in a promise from God.

God wants us to be vigilant for Jesus’ return not because we know the specific date, but because we trust His promise. We see our future and are comforted because “not one word of all the good words which the Lord your God spoke concerning you has failed” (Joshua 23:14). We live our lives as though Jesus has already returned.

Three ways to live

What would this look like? How would we act if we lived as though Christ had already returned and we were walking in light of truth? There are hundreds of possible answers in scripture but here are three:

  • Live the Word. God is not just a spiritual concept locked away in an ancient book of writings to be studied while ignoring the very people we are called to serve- God is real and active in our midst today, as we should be. After healing the cripple in Bethesda on the Sabbath, Jesus was challenged by Jewish leadership for doing works on the Sabbath. He answered “My Father is working until now, and I Myself am working” (John 5:17). He goes further, admonishing the Pharisees and Sanhedrin that their substitute of studying the law rather than living God’s word out in the world condemns them: “You do not have His word abiding in you, for you do not believe Him whom He sent. You search the Scriptures because you think that in them you have eternal life; it is these that testify about Me;  and you are unwilling to come to Me so that you may have life.” (John 5:38-39) Jesus is telling us that studying the Word is only the first step – we must go further in actually live the Word out in communion with those around us.
  • Convert, don’t condemn. Every corner of our lives today seems filled with condemnation of something or someone. In the Beatitudes, Jesus teaches “You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you, so that you may be sons of your Father who is in heaven.” (Matthew 5:40-45). When we convert those who hate us to a life of love, we demonstrate the foundational Kingdom principle of forgiveness rather than the earthly principle of retribution.
  • Love God, love each other. When challenged by a lawyer on how to inherit eternal life, Jesus responded in terms the lawyer would understand: “What is written in the Law? How does it read to you?” And he answered, “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” And He said to him, “You have answered correctly; do this and you will live.” (Luke 10:25-28)

Knowing where God is taking us, knowing what comes after the end of this world, truly understanding that there is a lasting and eternal life awaiting us, we can be at peace and live in confidence. And even if we may not know the day and hour, God tells us to stay vigilant. 

Are you still sleeping? Behold the hour is at hand …

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Living in Pits

“Which one of you will have a son or an ox fall into a well, and will not immediately pull him out on a Sabbath day?” – Luke 14:5

Ok, I admit it – I loved Christopher Nolan’s “Dark Knight” Trilogy (aka “Batman”). Everything about the series was amazing. Yeah, Heath Ledger stole the show as the Joker in the second installment, but each film had its moments.

One of my favorite scenes from the trilogy was the intense build up to Bruce Wayne climbing out of the pit in “The Dark Knight Rises.” For those who’ve not seen it, click here – but come back!

The most interesting thing about this scene isn’t Wayne’s final emergence, but rather how he got there. Up to the moment of his escape, he believed he could be freed by relying on man’s inventions – the safety of a rope, the practiced skill of his own hand. It was not until he let go of his own contrivances that he could escape the prison of his own shortcomings.

How often are we like Bruce Wayne in that pit, relying on our own efforts, our own “good works” to free us from the pits and wells into which we inevitably fall?

We need saving every day

In the passage from Luke I began with, Jesus is explaining curing a man of dropsy on the Sabbath, a high sin in the eyes of the Pharisees. Jesus’ message was clear: saving a lost soul is never wrong even on the Sabbath.

Yet as I read this passage my sense is that Jesus’ point was not so much about his actions, but instead about our needs.  That is, man needs saving every day, including the Sabbath. And God, in His righteousness, saves us every day, including the Sabbath.

“Good God, man! Don’t you know it’s the Sabbath?”

Jesus often used the Sabbath to point out our dependence on God’s hand. Notice how he cast the unclean spirit out in Capernaum on a Sabbath (Mark 1:21-18). Or healing a crippled man at Bethesda (John 5:1-18). Or healing the woman in the synagogue (Luke 13:10-17).

The common thread in all of Jesus’ encounters – both on the Sabbath and other days – is how inadequate our role is in our own healing. Can our works or personal efforts save us? Do we really need God to work out our salvation? Where is faith?

Paul addresses this question beautifully in Ephesians 2, specifically verses 8 and 9: “For by grace you have been saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God; not as a result of works, so that no one may boast.”

We simply can’t pull ourselves from the “miry clay” of existence (Psalm 40:2). We need God to provide us His hand, His grace.

Works without faith are empty

There’s a long-standing debate (particularly between Catholicism and Reformative Protestantism) regarding the roles played by works vs. faith in salvation. For some, the question is in the interpretation of Paul’s writings from passages such as Romans 3:28 and Romans 4:5. These folks will split hairs over works of good vs. works of law. That’s the subject of a different post.

Others will point to the epistle of James where he writes in 2:26 “For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so also faith without works is dead.”

Which is it? Do our works earn our salvation or are we saved simply by faith in Jesus Christ as the one true way to God the Father, repenting of our past?

“The Sacrifice of Isaac,” Rembrandt van Rijn, 1635

This confusion is around context. In both instances, James and Paul use the Genesis 22 story of Abraham being asked by God to sacrifice his son Isaac to illustrate their meaning. Yet even as some might argue James and Paul disagree, they in fact support each other.

In the case of James, he isn’t claiming we have the ability to work out our own salvation but is instead distinguishing between legitimate and illegitimate faith. Both are in a sense “faith,” but “perfected” faith goes beyond easy social media labels such as “#lovetrumpshate” and “#sharingiscaring” – instead, it extends into a way of life. Works without faith are empty.

James teaches that authentic faith is demonstrated by our actions, not that our actions win our salvation. Abraham’s righteous deeds (James 2:21-22) earned him nothing. However, his obedience to God proved his faith was genuine, “And Abraham believed God, and it was reckoned to him as righteousness.”

Right faith leads to right actions

Right faith leads to right actions. Paul contends that without trusting in God, Abraham could never have offered his son on the altar. He uses Abraham’s story to show that people are justified on the basis of real faith rather than their own efforts; James shows that Abraham’s faith was proven to be real because it worked itself out in his actions. Two halves of the same whole.

We each occasionally finds ourselves at the bottom of a soul-pit. All too often, we fall there through our own actions and decisions. Failed marriages, addictions, abusive relationships, depression, anger we can never seem to let go of, hatred of another because of their skin color or language or yes, even their definitions of love.

While it’s true that we can stop doing what dropped us into this pit or that well, an unrepentant heart relying on its own efforts is simply blind to the next hole into which it stumbles.

Without God’s extended hand to lift us from these self-made pits of the soul, we inevitably fall back into them, never truly escaping. Salvation doesn’t come from temporary acts of kindness trying to soothe our guilty consciences or show our Goliath-sized compassion, but by turning over our lives to a God willing to accept repentance, trusting in His will.

Bruce Wayne’s man-made ropes could never set him free. Nor can ours. Only faith – the right kind of faith – opens the narrow door to God’s forgiveness and our ultimate freedom.

What rope are you clinging to?

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Living to Die

“I know your deeds, that you have a name that you are alive, but you are dead. Wake up, and strengthen the things that remain, which were about to die; for I have not found your deeds completed in the sight of My God.” – Revelation 3:1-2

A year ago today my mother died. Her passing was peaceful, surrounded by the family she loved. Tears were shed, hands were held, prayers were shared. After fighting an extremely rare and debilitating disease, mom slipped away in the early hours of the morning on September 10, 2016.

To be clear, her doctor had not originally declared she was terminal. At the time, the prognosis seemed to suggest potential recovery. But the physician eventually saw the signs.

Mom was diagnosed with anca vasculitis at age 75, a rare, vicious, relentless disease. She died five months before her 80th birthday.

The origins of my mother’s illness were years in the making, buried in her body, slowly working their way into her immune system until they appeared as irreversible symptoms.  By the time she was diagnosed, there was not much anyone could do … she had been slowly dying for years and no one knew.

Something feels missing

Credit: Credo Magazine

Many churches today suffer from a similar malaise – literally dying slow, gradual deaths.

In some cases, like my mother neither they nor their congregations seem to realize how sick they are. All appears well on the surface – plenty of bright shining faces in the pews, a vibrant children’s ministry, bouncy sermons from popular preachers with catchy series names. Yet deep beneath the surface something just feels … missing, hollow.

In all too many other churches, the diagnosis is plain but not acted on in meaningful ways. Membership has been declining for years, former longtime members have moved to newer, fresher churches, the average age of the members is closer to retirement than from having that first child.

For these churches, “change” is not in their vocabulary as they continue serving the call God placed on the hearts of their predecessors 20, 30, 50 or more years before. “This is who we are,” they say, comfortable in discernment they feel is exceedingly true.

Why does this happen? Why do some churches march solemnly down the road to extinction? Why aren’t they bold in the face of a changing world?

“I’ll take the first option…”

The challenges facing today’s church leadership teams are more complex than any time in modern history. While I volunteer as a worship leader at my church, I’m not on staff nor have I ever been.  My career experience is in the secular world, but I’ve used that background to observe a number of churches over the years and spoken at length with their leaders either privately or at leadership forums. Here are a few thoughts on why churches fail to turn from the pathway leading to shutting their doors.

Leadership doesn’t recognize the problem

Recent statistics indicate church membership across the U.S. has dropped 15% over the last 10 years, with nearly 85% of U.S. churches either declining or have plateaued. In my own denomination alone, total membership is down nearly 20% in five years. Some individual churches have experienced declines in attendance by over 80%. 

Do churches actually impact their communities?

I would be curious where the gospel witness is for these churches within their communities when nearly half of people asked say today’s church has no positive impact. How many new believers do they bring to Christ (other than child baptisms)? How are they actually impacting the lives of the unchurched or reaching the six in ten young people walking away from the church altogether?

To some of these churches, there is no problem, just a resigned recognition that things aren’t like they used to be. Others have faced the changing tastes of their congregations by watering down their teachings, making themselves less offensive. But always keeping the offering coffers filled.

Paul, in writing to the Galatians, warned against such attitudes of denial when he said “I am amazed that you are so quickly deserting Him who called you by the grace of Christ, for a different gospel; which is really not another; only there are some who are disturbing you and want to distort the gospel of Christ” (Galatians 1:6-7).

Leadership admits there’s a problem, but it’s not their fault

These folks blame the community. People should be walking through the door, but they’re simply not. The culture is changing, and they shouldn’t have to adjust to the new ethnic make-up of their cities. “We’ll just shepherd our current members,” they say. Or, it’s the fault of the previous four pastors who just never quite fit in.

“Really, you can’t blame us. We’ve always done church this way!”

Facing our problems is crucial if we hope to overcome them. When David was called by God to confront Goliath he didn’t blame Saul’s army. Instead, scripture tells us “Then it happened when the Philistine rose and came and drew near to meet David, that David ran quickly toward the battle line to meet the Philistine” (1 Samuel 17:48).

Only when we’re willing to grapple with our challenges can we hope to stem the hemorrhaging of congregants.

Searching for “Superman” pastors

They prayerfully offer that if the Search Committee will just find that perfect Senior Pastor, everything will turn around. After all, the Superman Pastor works for us, right? He (or she) will make it happen. Yet for one reason or another, pastor after pastor leaves after a 2-3 year stint. Rinse and repeat, nothing changes. 

“Here I am to save the day…”

This approach to church leadership directly contradicts scripture, in that it denies the role each of us plays in a healthy church. In his letter to the Ephesians, Paul instructs “And He gave some as apostles, and some as  prophets, and some as evangelists, and some as pastors and teachers, for the equipping of the saints for the work of service, to the building up of the body of Christ; until we all attain to the unity of the faith, and of the knowledge of the Son of God, to a mature man, to the measure of the stature which belongs to the fullness of Christ” (Ephesians 4:11-13).

We all play a role in a living church

We are meant to unify as co-leaders in our churches, not place the burden on a single figure. Why? To go make and disciples of the world (Matthew 28:19).

Why can’t we just go back?

“Remember when Pastor Steve was here? Things were perfect then.” It’s a common refrain. Turn the clock back 10 years, or maybe 20. That’s when the church felt alive. Can’t we just go back to doing church like we did then?

This attitude reminds me of the exacting discipleship Jesus demanded – not looking back, not reminiscing, not thinking of the past. When asked by a would-be follower if he could go back and bury his dead father Jesus replied: “Allow the dead to bury their own dead; but as for you, go and proclaim everywhere the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:60).

Churches like this are everywhere, and growing in number. Too often congregations turn inward when faced with change, fearful of what that change might bring. Culture responds. Is your church among them?

Sadly, too many churches are dying – some slowly, others more rapidly. While God can intervene when a faithful congregation cries out, the church must turn its face to Him, walking away from prior preferences, desires, and even treasured traditions. In other words, repent (or “turn away”). As Peter is quoted in Acts 8:22-23 “Therefore repent … and pray the Lord that, if possible, the intention of your heart may be forgiven you. For I see that you are in the gall of bitterness and in the bondage of iniquity.”

Churches cannot program, cajole, or buy their way back to life. As humans, neither can we. Instead, we must face our challenges head on, adapting when we can, accepting God’s direction when we can’t.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Where is God?

“We went through fire and through water, yet You brought us out into a place of abundance.”- Psalm 66:12

The videos, livestreams, social media posts, and photos pouring out of Texas and specifically Houston in the wake of unprecedented modern-day flooding from Hurricane Harvey continues evoking sorrow, compassion, sacrifice, and introspection. Many find it difficult to imagine the impact of 9 trillion tons of water falling on a relatively small area of geography in a short period of time, and the havoc it wrecks on the lives of those in its path.

Rescue boats fill a flooded street at flood victims are evacuated as floodwaters from Tropical Storm Harvey rise Monday, Aug. 28, 2017, in Houston. (AP Photo/David J. Phillip)

Disasters like Harvey create crises. And they also create questions. “How could this have happened?” “Why didn’t people evacuate?” “Why weren’t we better prepared?” These and hundreds of additional questions will be asked in the coming months as politics and emotion creep into secular government oversight. The usual dance will play out, blame will be assessed, and Caesar’s due will be rendered.

A more interesting question from many is “How could a loving God allow this to happen? How should we respond as Christians?” 

How Should Christians Respond?

Scripture often provides us comfort in times of crisis. One excerpt I’ve returned to during moments of uncertainty is Psalm 66. Written as a song of praise, this Psalm illustrates the man’s dependence on the omnipotence and omniscience of God during trouble times. Throughout Psalm 66, the psalmist offers counsel on how those who “fear God” should respond to crises.

Reflecting on the aftermath of Harvey, here are a few thoughts on how a specific passage from scripture can guide our response as Believers.

First – Acknowledge God’s Sovereignty: “Come and see the works of God” (Psalm 66:5)

Disasters, like unexpected illnesses, the loss of a child, or tragic accidents, naturally raise questions about the nature of God. Recall the experience of Job, tested for months on end by God. He was tempted to question yet never surrendered his belief in God’s sovereign power.

Gerard Seghers: The Patient Job (1650)

Sadly, many of us face disaster with a skeptic’s response, ignoring the greater Truth that God, in Job’s words, “destroys both the guiltless and the wicked” (Job 9:22).  For instance, atheists assume life is random and meaningless, nothing more than selfish genes multiplying and reproducing. Natural disasters are, well, just nature. Sad but meaningless.

The philosopher might argue God cannot be all good and all powerful.  He would deny that God “does not turn away our prayers” (Psalm 66:20) and is not susceptible to the temptations of evil (James 1:13).

Not all grief is a consequence of sin

Modern legalists, like the Pharisees of Jesus’ day would say all human misery is a consequence of our sin. While moral failures can and often do lead to suffering, not all grief is a consequence of sin. Natural disasters can strike the just and the unjust alike, mush as Jesus said God “causes His sun to rise on the evil and the good” (Matthew 5:45).

Liberalists provide answers falling into a handful of flawed categories. Some blame God, assigning evil intent to God. Others, like Christian Scientists, claim the physical world is merely an illusion and argue God is not at work at all in the world. Still others, like Open Theists, belittle God’s power and omniscience by claiming He could never envision a future and so cannot know the effects of natural disasters.  This belief is directly contradicted by Paul in Ephesians 1:3-4 where he tells us “Blessed be the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who … chose us in Him before the foundation of the world, that we would be holy and blameless before Him.”

On the other hand, Christians trust God’s infinite the wisdom and sovereignty without assigning Him blame. “I cried out to Him with my mouth” the psalmist writes in Psalm 66:17.

During times of tragedy or natural disaster, Believers must access God’s very throne for guidance: “Therefore let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need” (Hebrews 4:16).

The writer of Psalm 66 cried to God, his words a plea of urgent desperation. Faithfully, God listened: “But certainly God has heard; He has given heed to the voice of my prayer” (Psalm 66:19).

Who should we pray for?

Who should we pray for? Social media popularizes generic slogans such as “Pray for (fill in the blank).” Believers are called to pray more deeply and specifically. Pray for those personally suffering, who have lost lives or livelihoods. Pray for those fearful they have nowhere to turn. Pray for those questioning why God would let this happen. Pray for those risking their own lives to save the imperiled. Pray for those who give of their time and resources to help. 

Second – Trust God: “Who keeps us in life” – Psalm 66:9

Crisis tempts us to doubt. Believers find faith in God’s guiding hand even in the midst of trials. Consider what scripture tells us: “Every good thing is from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shifting shadow.” (James 1:17). God’s hand doesn’t waver.

God also comforts us through our disbelief. “Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me” Jesus tells us in John 14:1. Our faith allows us to survive the trials of uncertainty, even in times of uncertainty.

And God’s love never leaves us, as Paul writes in Romans 8:38-39: “neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor things present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor any other created thing, will be able to separate us from the love of God.”

Asking “why God?” in times of tragedy leads us down a path of endless questioning. God sometimes intervenes in natural disasters, and sometimes He doesn’t. Some are healed while others are not. This one is spared while that one is not. We don’t know God’s ways, as He tells us through the words of the prophet Isaiah: “For My thoughts are not your thoughts, nor are your ways My ways” (Isaiah 55:8). 

Ultimately, God’s sovereignty does not mean causality. While God certainly can choose to cause an earthquake or send a flood to accomplish His greater purpose, it is folly to assume God is the “architect” of tragic or evil actions. He rules over all things to conformity them to His will. As Paul writes: “God causes all things to work together for good … to those who are called according to His purpose” (Romans 8:28).

Simply put, our best and most faithful response to hurricanes, disasters, or tragedies is to lift our prayers in trust of God’s wisdom even as we lift our hands to love and help each other.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

 

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Fantasies of Obedience

 “Professing themselves to be wise, they became fools.”- Romans 1:22

Take 10 seconds and answer this question: what was your most lasting fantasy from childhood – the one you held onto longest (perhaps secretly still do) or the one that most vividly sparked your imagination?

True confession – here’s mine for the first time anywhere: when I was twelve I fantasized about joining the Jackson 5 as their bass player and 6th vocalist. The year was 1970, and the J5 had just released “I’ll Be there” in August. By September, I knew my life plan – I’d somehow be discovered by Berry Gordy and whisked away to the magical land of afros and bellbottoms.

Looking back, there were so many things wrong with this fantasy I don’t know when to start! To begin with, the only song I could play on bass at that time was a bad version of In a Gadda da Vida, but that’s another story.

We all have fantasies, things we wistfully cling to. As we grow up, most of us put away our fantasies (or so we tell ourselves), replacing them with grown-up concerns of daily life: landing that “real” job, getting married, picking up a mortgage, having a kid or two … you know – the whole “responsibility” thing.

Faith is no longer something we live, but rather something we squeeze in on Sunday mornings

For many of us, letting go of childhood fantasies gradually transitions into also replacing other so-called “fantasies” in our lives. We give up believing in Santa and Easter Bunny, and soon enough lose the belief in a sovereign God who guides our lives. We lose our fear of monsters in the closet only to find we no longer fear an Enemy looking to deceive us from a path to righteous living. Faith is no longer something we live, but rather something we squeeze in on Sunday mornings between pancakes and football (or Saturday nights for the sleep-in crowd).

And sometimes we not only give up fantasies, we replace them with new, “improved,” more comfortable and convenient fantasies: “someone else will provide for my needs;” “I’m not to blame for my own poor life choices;” “I’m the maker of my own salvation;” and one of my favorites – “I’ll be fine if I just play by Man’s rules.”

I call this last one a “Fantasy of Obedience” and it finds its roots at the very beginning of Man’s history … the Garden. Not satisfied with the perfect order created by God, Man listened to the whispers of the Enemy, believing obedience to his own flawed human will was superior to obeying God’s perfect design.

Comfortable theology is designed to obey our desires

How often do we fall victim to this?  “I don’t want to offend anyone so I’ll just agree,” one person says. “Well, the experts say the writers of the Bible didn’t know today’s science so …” says another. “Everyone says society has evolved and the Bible needs to catch up,” still others argue. And “I don’t need fairy tales to live a good life,” say those who reject the Word altogether.

Go ahead … take a bite!

Convenient and comfortable theology designed to obey our desires – theology eerily reminiscent of Paul’s warning in 2 Timothy 4:3: “For the time will come when they will not endure sound doctrine; but wanting to have their ears tickled, they will accumulate for themselves teachers in accordance to their own desires.”

Paul was not the only voice cautioning against Man’s obedience to Man. Peter wrote in his 2nd Epistle: “There will also be false teachers among you, who will secretly introduce destructive heresies, even denying the Master who brought them.”  John wrote in his first letter: “Beloved, do not believe every spirit, but test the spirits to see whether they are from God, because many false prophets have gone out into the world.” Jeremiah warned that false teachers filled their followers with false hopes, leading them “into futility.”  Ezekiel proclaimed in his prophesy that God’s hand “will be against the prophets who see false visions and utter lying divinations.”

And Jesus himself warned his followers of the same in Matthew 24 when he taught about false teachers during the last days: “For false Christs and false prophets will arise and will show great signs and wonders, so as to mislead, if possible, even the elect.”

Sound familiar? Visit the Religion section of any bookstore and you’ll find book after book from “Christian” authors justifying any and every interpretation of desire-based belief.

Humans are hard-wired to obey … and rebel

Humans are hard-wired to obey … and rebel. We obey when it’s comfortable or convenient and rebel when it’s not. The Pharisees and Herodians tried to trap Jesus in this very question as reported in Mark 12: “Teacher, we know that You are truthful and defer to no one; for You are not partial to any, but teach the way of God in truth. Is it lawful to pay a poll-tax to Caesar, or not?”  Jesus, avoiding the trap replies: “’Whose likeness and inscription is this’ And they said to Him, ‘Caesar’s.’ And Jesus said to them, ‘Render to Caesar the things that are Caesar’s, and to God the things that are God’s.’ And they were amazed at Him”.

Joachim Wtewael – The Tribute Money (1616)

We increasingly seem to render our obedience to man-made rules but fail to render our obedience to God. Man’s rules, filtered through polls and focus groups and public opinion and social media, are designed to manage our obedience rather than guide our righteousness – just enough to keep us paying our taxes and enabling those in power to maintain their positions, but not enough to offend our personal desires.

We render to Man’s rules because “out there” in the world we desire an earthly reward – the best looking, the most gifted athletes, the richest business icons, the most talented performers … if we just obey the rules society sets up we can become one of these privileged few. The world becomes our prize.

Ultimately these are little more than misguided fantasies. We gain adulation through obeying the world but lose something immeasurably more valuable – our souls.  We become like those described by Paul in  Romans 1, our hearts darkened, exchanging truths for lies, obedient to our own desires and “Professing to be wise, (becoming) fools.”

My childhood fantasies of singing “ABC” with the Jackson 5 may have been amusing. Our fantasies of defying Righteous Truth are, in the end, sadly ruinous.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Bandwagons, Idols, and Charlottesville

“For even though they knew God, they did not honor Him as God or give thanks, but they became futile in their speculations, and their foolish heart was darkened.  Professing to be wise, they became fools,  and exchanged the glory of the incorruptible God for an image in the form of corruptible man .” (Romans 1:21-23).

During the mid-1800’s, circus impresario Phineas T. Barnum (yes, that P.T. Barnum) attracted the public to his legendary circuses with elaborate parades through town, complete with riotous noise and garish “bandwagons.” The showmanship worked, attracted countless thousands to pony up $0.50 or $1.00 in exchange for huge spectacles of tigers, elephants, horses, and trapeze artists.

“Jump on board! The band’s great!!”

Never ones to miss a sure thing, late 19th century politicians picked up on this way to attract crowds and began using bandwagons during their campaigns. In fact, Teddy Roosevelt created the modern usage of “jumping on the bandwagon” in a letter from 1899 where he wrote: “When I once became sure of one majority they tumbled over each other to get aboard the band wagon.”

Not much has changed.

Idols and bandwagons distract us from what matters

Yet, bandwagons are not recent inventions. They’ve been around as long as man has drawn breath and we know them by another name: idols. Simply put, idols (like bandwagons) are devices used by others to focus our attention away from what should matter, and onto what they want us believe.

God knew exactly why idols were to be avoided. After bringing Israel out of the bondage of slavery in Egypt, He realized mankind’s flawed nature and our tendency to believe in our own infinitely limited ability at self-salvation.

Hear God’s own words on this subject: “You shall not make for yourself an idol, or any likeness of what is in heaven above or on the earth beneath or in the water under the earth. You shall not worship them or serve them.” (Exodus 20:4-5)

Left to their own inclinations, a fallen people would soon forget it was God and not Man who overcame Pharaoh’s enslavement and instead build inert and powerless monuments into which their focus and worship were channeled. And one man’s idol would likely become another man’s heresy. Eventually, dissension would lead to chaos and violence as the people fought over which idol was more powerful, forgetting God altogether.

One man’s idol is another man’s heresy

Does this have the ring of familiarity? When the recent events in Charlottesville unfolded live in real time, my very first thought was of the Second Commandment. My next thought was of its embodiment in Jesus’ words from Matthew 22: “And He said to him, ‘You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your mind.’ This is the great and foremost commandment.”

Without devolving into yet one more blogpost about who was right or wrong, and fully acknowledging the insidious behavior and words of those who would uphold so-called White Supremacy, I believe the tragedy that marked Charlottesville was both avoidable and predictable.

Nicolas Poussin, “The Adoration of the Golden Calf,” 1634

Here, in summary, is what happened: On August 12, extreme white supremacist groups of the political Right flocked to Charlottesville for the fourth time in as many months, protesting the decision to remove the statue of Confederate General Robert E Lee from one of the city’s parks. This time their protest attracted a counter-protest group including members of Antifa, an equally extreme faction of the political Left. The ensuing clash resulting in injury and death, and has virtually paralyzed a nation in debate and 24 hours news coverage.

Those are the essential facts. But what can we say about what was really the underlying truth of Charlottesville? Simply put, the clash of idols. Those on one side put their faith and trust in symbols and flags and monuments (idols), inflaming those on the other side who saw these idols as representing evil, racism and hatred.

The only power idols have is what we give them

I will leave to others the debate over which of these perspectives was and is more incendiary. For me, as a believing Christian seeking guidance in the Word, I can say this: I place no status or emotional investment in symbols or idols of any kind. As a citizen of the United States, I honor our flag, but if forced to choose I would proclaim the Word. Symbols are meaningless unless we imbue them with power. Both the defenders of the statue in Charlottesville and those supporting its removal suffer from the same lie: that these idols have any power whatsoever. The only power they have is what we give them.

The greater tragedies of Charlottesville, Berkley, Ferguson, Baltimore, Dallas, Paris, Nice, Boston, Barcelona, Berlin … is that the world has descended into an endless battle over idols.

  • “My (little) god is bigger than your (little) god.”
  • “My prophet is more powerful than your prophet.”
  • “My wealth makes me more righteous than your poverty.”
  • “My skin color makes me more entitled than your skin color.”
  • “My tolerance makes me more noble than you.”
  • “My flag is more important than your flag.”

These and 10,000 other idols consume our attention daily. As evangelist D.L. Moody declared, “You don’t have to go (far)to find false gods.  Whatever you love more than God is your idol.” These substitutes become modern-day bandwagons we jump on for a sense of belonging and meaning. They distract us from focusing on God’s charge: to love Him with every fiber of our being and to love each other as we love ourselves.

“Quick, kick it one more time to make sure it’s dead!”

American Pastor A.W. Tozer once wrote: “An idol of the mind is as offensive to God as an idol of the hand.”  Idolatry begins with an ever-diluted understanding of God.  We devalue His worthiness, ignore His holiness, reject His love, water down His truth, or dismiss or even ridicule His sovereignty (see this clip of Bill Maher in prime form).  We begin erecting idols in our minds and with our hands as our focus drifts from living in God’s Word, placing that focus in other thoughts and things.  Pastor John Piper refers to this as “the first dark exchange” in his commentaries on the first chapter of Romans.

God points us down the right road in times of strife like those we currently face. He speaks through the words of David in Psalm 46: “Cease striving and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth.”

The path to peace lies not in slogans or flags or statues or bumper stickers or hashtags or cable news talking heads or memes. We cannot follow a painted bandwagon to Utopia. When we place our trust in idols we remove our trust in God. And God’s parade is the only parade that matters.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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And the Verdict Is…

“Judge not, that you be not judged. For with what judgment you judge, you will be judged; and with the measure you use, it will be measured back to you.” Matthew 7:1-2 

I had a love-hate relationship with forensics in high school and college.  For you CSI fans, the forensics I’m referencing have nothing to do with crime scenes and dead bodies (although my debate partner and I did slay quite a few teams in our day).  Rather, I’m talking about competitive public speaking.  Yes, I was one of those guys – cocky, obnoxious, with opinions on everything. Some people might say not much has changed over the years…

To be sure, I loved spending summers at places like Northwestern University in Chicago or Michigan Seven Week honing my debate skills and preparing thousands of 3×5 cards with perfect snippets of cited quotations proving every conceivable angle of any potential topic.  And writing an original oratory speech that made me seem erudite and worldly was a blast at 16 and 17.

The “hate” part involved that scourge of every competitive public speaker: the judge.  Not to say judges were bad people, mind you.  For the most part, they were pleasant enough folks who volunteered their time to sit through generally self-indulgent puffery from young know-it-alls like me.  The problem was, well, we usually did know more than the judges.  All you had to do was ask us!

“The faster I talk the more convincing I get!”

For 8-10 minutes (depending on the event), we’d pour our hearts out on one topic or another, only to wait for what seemed an eternity in some high school or college hallway for a runner to post our fate, determined by someone we’d usually never met before that round and who often told us nothing constructive in their lofty remarks about “deportment” and “fact checking.”  Sheesh!

The interesting thing about judging another’s performance, technique or even their behavior is that for the most part our judgment is subjective.  We see their actions through our eyes.  Not always, of course.  There are clear winners and losers in track and field where the fastest athlete wins, or in a NASCAR race where the fastest car takes the flag.  But in most human endeavors, judging means rendering an opinion on someone else’s actions.

Which brings us to the topic of this post – Judgment.

Courtesy USAToday

As I write this, the news is filled with stories about the mistrial in the Bill Cosby sexual predator case. A lot has been written on both sides and my purpose here is not to render a personal view on Mr. Cosby or his behavior.  There are plenty of voices doing that.  Rather, let’s consider the implications of judging the actions and motives of others.

The Cosby trial is instructive because so much of the case is hearsay and based on the appearance of actions rather than clear-cut proof. “Consensual” turned out to be a very difficult thing to define and the non-verdict was ultimately reached based on what we (the jurors) believed to be true about Mr. Cosby.  How we (the jurors) judged his actions and the motives they imply.

What if the person “on trial” is your friend and the judge and jury turn out to be you?

A sexual predation trial in a civil setting is one thing.  But what if there’s no civil trial involved?  What if the person “on trial” is your friend, or your neighbor, or an acquaintance?  Or perhaps someone you don’t even really know?  And the judge and jury turn out to be … you?

The passage I opened with is an admonition against self-righteousness.  Political dialogue in recent years provides endless examples of smug opinion-sharing in social media and endless “news” outlets. Everyone has an opinion and if someone disagrees they are (fill in the epithet).

Sadly, we find similar self-righteous attitudes pervasive in our faith today.  When asked their opinion of American Christians many respondents overwhelmingly respond “judgmental.”  Not “caring,” or “empathetic,” or “loving.”

Why are Christians often labeled “judgmental?”  I believe it goes to the very heart of what Jesus taught again and again when confronting hypocrisy and self-righteousness.

First, let’s be clear – Jesus did not consider all judgment wrong.  For example, in verse 6 of the Matthew passage Jesus cautions: “Do not give dogs what is sacred; do not throw your pearls to pigs. If you do, they may trample them under their feet, and turn and tear you to pieces.”  Here the reader is cautioned to discern where to focus his or her faith in others to protect against what Jesus refers to in Matthew 7:15 as “false prophets.”

Elsewhere, Jesus instructed his followers to “judge correctly” rather than by appearances only (John 7:24), and Paul goes further in 1 Corinthians 5:9-13 to hold those of the Faith accountable while not judging those outside the Faith.

Christians veer onto dangerous ground when they judge others without sufficient discernment.  Jesus cautions in Matthew 7:3-5 that we should remove the plank from our own eye before attempting to clear the speck from another’s.  His point here is that too often we attack someone else for many of the same faults we find in our own hearts.

I have a friend, about my age, with a similar background.  For 28 years he was married to the same woman, raised four children, was a strong leader in the church.  What few people knew was that he and his wife had experienced marital problems for years.  After many attempts to repair the relationship, my friend determined their differences were irreconcilable and filed for divorce.

Those not knowing the facts spent considerable time condemning my friend.  One went so far as to suggest my friend should consider finding another congregation, that his actions were “inappropriate” for his church family.

Courtesy RELEVANT Magazine

Candidly, stories like this churn up the wrath of overturning temple money changer tables in me.  While I hold no ill-will against those judging my friend, their criticism comes from a place of self-righteousness, rather than love.  My friend’s decision was somehow not acceptable to these individuals’ view of what church should be.  Alas, my friend did leave.

I suspect had he been sitting in on the conversation, Jesus would have looked at his accusers and simply said “You who are without sin cast the first stone.”

Self-righteous judgment has no place in the Kingdom if we are to live in love and mercy.  Jesus teaches us in Luke 6:36-37 “Be merciful, just as your Father is merciful. Do not judge and you will not be judged. Do not condemn, and you will not be condemned. Forgive, and you will be forgiven.”  Later, Jesus’ brother James would write “Mercy triumphs over judgment,” meaning that anyone who judges without mercy will receive the same.

Self-righteous judgment has no place in the Kingdom if we are to live in love and mercy. 

Many of us struggle with this.  I know I do.  Why do we find it so hard to extend grace and mercy to others?  Two potential and rather obvious reasons come to mind.

First, many of us continually compare – we compare ourselves with others, we compare others against one another.  Differences often make us uneasy and it’s easier to “fit” in with each other, to be the same, share the same views.  With some exceptions, most of us don’t want to stand out.  This is true in Christian circles as well.  We have “acceptable norms,” and those who step outside those norms are looked at with suspicion.

Yet the church was never intended to turn out assembly line, cookie-cutter Christians.  We don’t all have to look alike and sound alike and think alike and act alike.  For example, as parents we naturally compare our children to others, trying to get them to do the same things, often forcing them to be something they were never meant to be.  Unfortunately, in the body of Christ, we do the same thing — trying to get everyone to speak and act the same way, forcing them to be something they were never intended to be.  This tendency to compare and get everyone to fit certain “acceptable norms” hinders the miracle of grace.

The second reason is our tendency to control.  As some of my older friends can attest, I’ve struggled with control issues most of my life.  I don’t like loose ends.

“Control” by itself isn’t necessary a bad thing – controlling a flood after a dam bursts, or controlling one’s spending.  The problem occurs when we browbeat those around us into compliance, to control their actions, to fit our view.  Those we attempt to control either submit and become less than what they are intended to be, or rebel and push us away.  Neither of these is an example of grace and mercy and forgiveness.

What can we do to extend grace and forgiveness to those around us rather than rushing to judgment?  Three ideas come to mind (borrowed from Chuck Swindoll in his commentary on Romans 14).

  • Accept others as they are.  In the context of Romans 14, the issue was the eating of meat.  Paul tells his readers to “accept others,” meaning meat eaters and non-meat eaters should co-exist.  Not too controversial these days, except perhaps with ardent vegans.  Consider other, touchier subjects facing Christians today.  To drink or not drink alcohol, to watch certain types of movies, to get tattoos or not, to allow ordination of men and women who are same-sex oriented.  Each of these and a thousand other issues can divide us.  Paul tells us to allow for these differences with discernment.
  • Not dictating to others allows GOD the freedom to direct their lives. While we’re all family, and I may urge you to be cautious in certain actions in your life, grace means I give you the freedom to choose.  God is fully capable of guiding each of us – some to one lifestyle, others to a different lifestyle.
  • We’re not qualified to judge others. God tells us He alone is qualified to judge; who are we to judge someone else?  We’re notoriously inconsistent.  We can seldom read the motives of others, finding it hard to be totally objective.  How often do we jump to wrong conclusions, make judgmental statements, only to later learn of off base and insensitive we were?

Loving others requires us to allow for freedom of choice without judgment.  We may disagree, we may not choose that path, but our charge as Christians is to love our brothers and sisters in the midst of their own choices and let God take them down the path He will.  Sometimes that path leads to and through hardship.  We must love them regardless.

I encourage you to see where you may be rendering harsh judgment against others.  Look into your own heart.  Ask yourself if you are qualified to sit on that judgment seat.  I suspect you’ll find that your first best role is to simply offer guidance, and accept the outcomes with love, grace, and humility.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Beakers and Bibles – God vs. Science

Electric pickles, homemade snow and slime – just the stuff boyhood dreams were made of (at least my boyhood with the chemistry set mom gave me for my 9th birthday). I loved experimentation and discovery, the reduction of things to smaller things, getting to the “heart of heart,” as a one of my junior high science teachers once said.

For our next experiment, let’s create the known universe from these five ingredients!

Eventually (as with all things in my life) this experimentation and discovery journey led me back to God, the original source of all truth. I wish there had been a book like Tina Houser’s “Beakers, Bubbles & the Bible” back then! Nothing like experiments with magnets and paper clips to explain God’s love for us.

Which brings me to a recent post I made reflecting on a few thoughts around Good Friday. As usual, I ran the full social media spectrum spread including FB, Twitter, email, and other sources.

Apparently it got some traction, probably because I mentioned Brussels Sprouts in the title! Someone (not a follower of mine) saw it on Twitter and re-tweeted to their timeline.  At some point, someone else makes a comment (including my Twitter name) ridiculing the post asking “Why the hell is there religious s%$t on my timeline?”  Not to be outdone, someone else replied “They’ll probably follow up with a Bible verse,” followed by a third comment saying “They can’t help themselves, for them it’s faith over facts.”

Faith over facts…. Now, I’d normally ignore silly comments like these but hey, it was Good Friday.  So I messaged all three individuals saying I’d be delighted to discuss facts and faith with them anytime.  As is typical with what social media folk refer to as internet trolls, only one actually got back to me with a tired attempt at a pithy comment about not needing fairy tales but still gave me his email address with a comment something to the effect of “bring it on!”

This was my reply (if this gets a little eye-rollingly dense because I was attempting to speak to a guy professing an understanding of science, feel free to skip to the end):

“You know, @SokhavySheik” (not his real Twitter handle), “I was raised by an ardent atheist father and have had to defend my views on faith since I was in elementary school. I get the whole ‘I’m too smart to believe in mythology’ stuff, I really do. Heck, I did a stint during college in comparative world religions and even went through my staunch Deist phase.  Perhaps you did, too.

There must be an answer…

“So let’s try this a different way, a way which might appeal to your need for facts versus Faith. I have no conflicts in believing the Universe came into existence some time around 13.8 billions years ago (we don’t really know, of course), and at just around the 10−43 seconds  mark (that’s about one quintillionith of a second) into this new Creation quantum mechanics engages, generating dynamic cosmic inflation which in turn creates quark-gluon plasma, eventually (over the next 299 seconds) leading to the supremacy of matter over anti-matter, and then sometime around the first 300 seconds forms helium, lithium, and heavy hydrogen (deuterium and Helium 3) from nascent protons and neutrons by a process called nucleosynthesis.  From there, nature sort of starts the chain reaction of laws balancing laws and matter reacting to matter and *boom* here we are debating the nature of reality (told you I was once a Deist).

“Center ball can do it all …”

“Yet I also have no conflict believing a creative life force (aka “God,” aka “El-Shaddai,” aka “Jehovah,” aka “Yahweh”) purposefully willed all of this into being and has been personally interacting with Creation over those same last 13.8 billion years. To believe that, I ascribe extra-natural causation. To wit: ‘In the beginning …’ and so forth.  This approach doesn’t negate scientific law but rather allows for intent and design. If you’re a billiards guy, think of it as the pool cue striking the cue ball with just the right angle, velocity and trajectory to set the table in motion.

“You, on the other hand, believe in a science maintaining that for eternity there was nothing except, perhaps, an infinite expanse of quarks and leptons swimming in helium-4, helium-3 and deuterium which somehow spontaneously coalesced into what we refer to as this same Big Bang, combusting into everything we know today including that keyboard you spend so much time with.  Your scientific basis for this (if you didn’t already know) is founded mostly on Heisenberg’s Uncertainty Principle, an essentially unsolved equation requiring the introduction of quantum potential (a sciency-like term basically saying ‘we don’t know but we think it could be this or that’) and a probabilistic explanation for the nature of reality.  Your equations rely on unquestioning belief in String Theory (by definition unprovable and for which to-date there remain no predictions that can validate its truth) and hypothetical Planck-length particles. See all the conditionals here? Hoo-boy.

“Setting aside little questions like ‘where did the quarks, leptons, helium-4, helium-3, and deuterium come from?’ I’m struggling with your equation that ties it all together. Did your guys ever solve that inch-long ‘Theory of Everything’ equation Einstein couldn’t figure out?

“Better yet, let’s try something a little simpler, something your chemistry-set religion can surely solve.  I believe God is the sole author of all Creation, existing uniquely outside the constraints of our 4-dimensional minds (and I’m including time here just to keep things interesting), yet capable of reaching into Creation at will. You believe in the intention-less superiority of science.

“So here’s my challenge: show me how your science can spontaneously grow a single strand of human hair using only the basic elements of 18 amino acids, lipids, sterols, fatty oils, sphingosine, triglycerides (yeah, that stuff your doctor probably told you was too high), squalene, melanin (you pick from eumelanin or phaeomelanin), some water (I won’t ask you to create Hydrogen or Oxygen – that’ll be a gimme between the two of us) and a few trace mineral elements.  You know, kind of an ‘Iron Chef’ competition for Creation.

Ultimately, science resolves into the same “unknowns” as Faith

“And no, I’m not talking about duplicating Angela Christiano’s 2013 experiment of taking cells from the scalps of prematurely balding men and grafting them on the backs of mice to mimic hair growth. I’m talking the real deal – take some beakers of raw materials, work your sciency magic and grow me a strand of hair.  Then we can talk about faith vs. facts.”

Yes, I know I threw a lot at @SokhavySheik. But as I mentioned, it was Good Friday, so there’s that. And the response to date? Crickets. Because ultimately, science simply resolves into the same “unknowns” as Faith. I just choose to believe there is a benevolent, loving, intentional God at the center of Creation rather than random noble gases and theoretical particles.

Here’s the thing. Believers need never fall into the faulty-logic trap of arguing God over Science. Our God is big enough to provide us brains to hypothesize any Universe we care to imagine. Or, in the words of Baylor University Distinguished Professor of Electrical and Computer Engineering and proponent of intelligent design Robert J. Marks: “Saying the Bible is not a book about science is like saying a cookbook is not a book about chemistry.” They’re sort of the same things (at least certain parts, such as the entire first chapter of Genesis). And that God is patient enough to allow our ponderings and debate and arguments and science-ing until we find ourselves intellectually exhausted and right back where this story starts: “In the beginning…”

The events of Good Friday (and of the entire Biblical Story) are about an entirely different metaphysical currency: the currency of Redemption. There is simply no science, no hypothetical phantom bits, no equation, no String Theory, no Quantum Effect, no Multiplex Universe that will ever explain the circumstances and aftermath of Calvary, nor fully describe the simplicity and infinite complexity of John 3:16.

I kept my chemistry set a long time, along with the super cool physician-grade microscope by dad bought me when he still had hopes I’d grow up to be a doctor (sorry, Dad).  I never forgot the lessons of wonder these instruments of man taught me. And the love for accepting the unknown universe around me, allowing room in my tiny brain for the greater recognition that God was, is, and will be all things.

Try sliming that, @SokhavySheik!

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Brussels Sprouts, Minding Medicine, and Good Friday: Four Reflections

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.” – Matthew 16:21-25

Growing up there were two things I absolutely detested: Brussels Sprouts and a certain type of medicine for a certain type of embarrassing infection for which the treatment was – from my 6-year old perspective – worse than the symptoms! Fortunately, my mother was a saint and taught me to eventually savor the Sprouts and mind the medicine. Gotta love moms.

For some Christians, Good Friday is a bit like that. Or, as another pastor once put it, asking followers to embrace Good Friday is little bit like asking them embrace torture – or nails on a chalkboard!

Truth is, Good Friday is perhaps the most curiously circumspect day in Christendom’s Liturgical Year (fancy term meaning “calendar”). It doesn’t have an entire season of shopping, “bracket” holidays, and mangers with wise men surrounding it like Christmas; it doesn’t have the Joy and Celebration of its big brother Easter just two days later; nor does it have the sacrificial appeal of Lent, where we get to give up something for 40 days (but nothing too hard, of course).

To be sure, nowhere in Scripture are we instructed to build sacraments around the Friday before Easter. Early Christians remembered it as a day of sorrow, penance, and fasting, which is represented in the modern German tradition of Karfreitag (“Sorrowful Friday”). But Jesus never said as he was being led off to trial “Remember this day whenever you gather.”

Still, from my perspective Good Friday is a profound day of revelation, of contemplation, and while dreadful in how it ends, portentous in what it foretells.

This Good Friday, here are four things that come to mind when I reflect on this day and what it represents.

1.  Good Friday is the narrow gateway to Easter Sunday.

For most of us, Good Friday is about the crucifixion of Jesus – pure and simple: black-draped crosses, somber faces of mourning, even Good Friday services with sound effects recreating the hammering of nails into the wrists and feet of Eternal God incarnate.

As followers, we are called not to the tomb, but to the Cross.

Yet it strikes me that we often focus too much on the end of the scene rather than the backstory, the full narrative.

As followers, we are called not to the tomb, but to the Cross. Remember, Mary is asked by the messengers at the empty tomb: “Why do you look for the living among the dead? He is not here; he is risen!”

We rush to the tomb, to Easter morning, to the Resurrection without fully embracing that without Good Friday there is no Easter Sunday. The pathway to redemption runs straight through the one-way road of what happens on that fateful Friday.

Consider how much of the story of God and man occurs on that single day. The second-guessing of God’s sovereignty and kingdom plans, the interplay of temptation vs. submission, the secularized mocking of Jesus as the Living Word, the rejection of salvation in favor of personal gain … the list is virtually endless.

Simply put, the entire Biblical story is replayed in the hours before the main event (the Crucifixion), and the most compelling and redeeming aspect of Good Friday is how faithful Jesus stayed to his calling, even in the hours of praying in Gethsemane, even as he was paraded before the Sanhedrin for a sham trial, even as Herod goaded him to provide a single miracle for entertainment value, even as Pilate debated him on the nature of Truth, even as he hung on the Cross.

The story of Easter is the story of perseverance and trust. There can be no Easter Sunday without Good Friday and overcoming the spiritual warfare of that pivotal moment. Without the Cross, and the devotion to walking through the narrow gateway leading there, there is no resurrection. Good Friday is our only path to Easter Sunday.

 2. The Cross is still a problem.

How must Jesus’ arrest and execution have been seen through the eyes of his followers? In less than 12 hours, his entire 42 months of ministry, perhaps even the whole of Messianic prophecy appeared to collapse, to be proven false. Where was the Kingdom? Where was the triumphal Messiah? The power he used to help others completely failed him during these dire hours. He was, it seemed, outwitted, outplayed. How could that happen?

Yet both Jesus’ followers and his accusers completely missed the real message of his life, as Jesus himself told Andrew and Philip in John 12:24: “Unless a grain of wheat falls into the ground and dies, it abides alone, but if it dies, it produces many.” In deed as well as word, Jesus lived out the very parables he taught.

Even today, some Christians have a problem with the Cross. To have meaning, the Cross must show us miracles and power. It must demonstrate right now the ability of God to take away our pain and suffering. It must reveal wisdom and truth.

Ultimately, God first offers us the Cross through Jesus, the road of surrender, then salvation. In writing to the Corinthians, Paul calls this “the power of and the wisdom of God.” (I Corinthians 1:24). It is the power and wisdom of Jesus in surrendering his will to God that leads him directly to the Cross.

Many Christians today prefer not to think about suffering. In fact, entire ministries are built on the concept of God as a force of comfort, with no sacrifice or suffering required. According to this view, the Cross was not actually necessary, just a prop used to wake up the knuckleheads too dim-witted to see the God in all of us.

The real meaning of the Cross is that our own power or reason or abilities are never enough to earn our way to salvation. Jesus relinquished his will, and so, too, must we.

3. Good Friday is the beginning, not the end.

It’s been said that all change happens in an instant – only our agonizing over the decision takes time. This is no truer than the events taking place on Good Friday and culminating at the Cross.

From the moment of man’s fall in the first garden, our history unfolded as a long, slow, tortuous dialogue with our own consciences, with each other, and with God over how we should respond. We warred, we railed against God’s plea to turn from iniquity, we excused and rationalized our brokenness.

On Good Friday, God stepped into His creation and offered the “instant” change we could not find in ourselves. The Cross is that change. God allows us to put His sovereignty over our lives on trial. He allows us to mock Him. He allows us to beat and debase Him. And yes, He even allows us to hang Him from the Cross of our own imperfections.

Yet, through all of this He remains faithful, inviting us to join Him at the very Cross we created, the very Cross to which He was nailed that we might be free. He compels us to see the broken and bloodied body of His Son. And to see our own broken and bloodied lives hanging with him.

Good Friday is the moment of that change. It is the Beginning of a Redeemed Life. This is the meaning of Jesus’ death, and of the rending of the Temple veil described in Matthew 27:51, Mark 15:38, and Luke 23:44. God is no longer separated from Man, the price of our falling away has been paid.

In our rush to celebrate the empty tomb of Easter, we cannot overlook our own complicity in the agony and cost of the Cross. Good Friday is the beginning of the change within each of us. 

4. Faith always prevails, even when we doubt.

Finally, there is a moment – a crucial moment – at the Cross; a moment unlike any other in Scripture. Throughout his ministry, Jesus had been tempted and tested. Obstacles and roadblocks had been thrown in his path. In Gethsemane he asked God if there was another way. Yet through all of that his faith never wavered.

Then came these four words: “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” meaning “My God, My God, why have you forsaken me?” – the one and only time in the New Testament where Jesus does not refer to God as his father. Yes, he was quoting Psalm 22:1, perhaps reminding those gathered at his feet of the foretelling of this very moment. But deeper than that, it was the one moment in his entire earthly existence where he truly become just like us – separated from God, alone in the sea of a sinful world, filled with the desolation of being unconscious of His Father’s presence.

And yet, a few mere breaths and heartbeats later the isolation passes and just as the Psalm 22 ends with hope and praise, Jesus utters these words “Father, into your hands I commend my spirit.” Even in death, Jesus shows us how faith triumphs. What his disciples failed to grasp time and again about his ultimate destiny, Jesus finally demonstrated – literally – in the flesh. And all through faith.

Jesus knew what lay before him. The comfort of a promised resurrection did not calm the fear of a painful, humiliating death. Yet in his death as in his life, Jesus models for us what faith and trust in God’s plan really means.

On this Good Friday, pause and consider what God is asking you to surrender so that His love might heal you. Perhaps you’ll find your own way to “savor the Sprouts and mind the medicine!”

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Easter Thoughts: They Were No Heroes

“And the Lord turned and looked at Peter. And Peter remembered the saying of the Lord, how he had said to him, ‘Before the rooster crows today, you will deny me three times.’ And he went out and wept bitterly.” – Luke 22:61-62

Note: This post was originally published in 2016.  I’ve condensed it here in honor of Easter week. It may take a strange turn or two, but stay with me.

David Bowie.  Whoa – that’s not a name one normally associates with Easter.  But follow me here and we’ll make the connection.  I grew up loving Bowie’s work – from Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders of Mars to 1983’s Let’s Dance his music shaped my own formative love of creating and playing music.

Later, I would appreciate how influential Bowie has been on musicians across the spectrum.  Artists as varied as The Killers, Jay Z (that’s right, Mr. Beyoncé),Stefani Joanne Angelina Germanotta known professionally as Lady Gaga, Radiohead, Lorde, Fall Out Boy’s Patrick Stump, Arctic Monkeys, and countless others attribute much of their direction and style to one phase or another of Bowie’s career. 

(Parenthetical sidenote: for an entertaining read, check out this tongue-in-cheek story from the UK’s Mirror on how Bowie eerily predicted the Rise of Kanye West and the Destruction of the World. But I digress.)

Every year at this time, Christians remember their most sacred and Holy week: an ecstatic, triumphal entrance into Jerusalem laden with prophetic symbolism; the crescendo of confrontations with authorities; the somber and mysterious Thursday night dinner where Passover’s traditional ritual meal was replaced by a New Covenant; the poignant retreat to the Garden of Gethsemane symbolizing a fallen Garden of Eden for a final plea resulting in betrayal, arrest, and further betrayal; a sham middle-of-the-night trial before the self-important Sanhedrin and ending before a pompous Roman magistrate cowered into accommodating the mob; the humiliation of public flogging; a mocking, agonizing procession through the very streets so victoriously entered six days before; nailed and hung from a cross reserved for the most vile of offenders while guards laughed, drank and gambled over the very clothes worn during the ordeal; a final gasp and then … death, burial and sorrow.  Three days later, the impossibility of a promise fulfilled – resurrection and the defeat of death.

This is the story we share each Easter.  Filled with more excitement, intrigue, politics, violence, and redemption than the best Hollywood film.  Our focus is usually the same with each telling – Jesus’ destiny with his accusers and his overcoming their most heinous intentions and conquering sin.

Credit: Masayoshi Sukita

So what, then, is the connection between Bowie and Easter?  This is where we go on a bit of a journey.  In 1977, Bowie released his twelfth studio album, “Heroes.” The album and its title track “Heroes” remain among my favorite pieces by Bowie.  The original version, an up-tempo rocker, became an anthem of sorts, even though the lyrics have always been a bit murky.

In the 2013 feature film Lone Survivor I developed an entirely new appreciation for the song.  The final credits rolled over Peter Gabriel’s updated version and I began considering how the lyrics, with a bit of rewriting, could poignantly describe the experience of the first Apostles during the last hours of Jesus’ life.  And here we begin the connection.

How might that week have looked through the eyes of those closest to Jesus? We certainly get a glimpse in the Gospel stories, yet these retellings are always in the third person.  What must it have felt like to be Judas in the moments after he realizes the great tragedy his betrayal would hold; or Peter in the very moment of his denials; or Mary heading to the tomb Sunday morning not filled with hope but instead openly weeping and mourning?

The Calling of Peter and Andrew – Bernardo Strozzi

These were not extraordinary men and women – a few fishermen, a tax collector, a thief and liar, a Zealot or two with delusions of defeating Rome, a tent maker and Pharisee, a probable prostitute, a possible outcast from an ancient royal bloodline, various tradesmen, hangers-on from the lowest rungs of first century Palestinian life.  Broken sinners all – like each of us.

In the eyes of the Jewish Levitical Priesthood and their Roman overlords, a laughable, motley rabble of would-be revolutionaries; hardly the stuff of regime change.  Pontius Pilate thought Jesus was simply misguided saying “I find no basis for a charge in this man.”  Herod Antipas, the puppet ruler of Galilee and Perea, ridiculed Jesus and draped him in an ornate robe before sending him back to Pilate.

Yet the men and women making up Jesus’ inner circle each shared a common and ultimately unbreakable bond – they followed a leader whose unstoppable presence and force-of-will would topple empires.

During the weeks and months leading up to Jesus’ final week, their enthusiasm and confidence – perhaps even arrogance – emboldened them.  They were in the presence of the Messiah and the overthrow of earthly oppression was surely imminent.  It’s easy to understand how they would be emboldened. Jesus had calmed the storm, healed the sick, restored sight to the blind, raised the dead, fed the multitudes, rebuked the hypocrites … why should Jerusalem be any different?

Albert Einstein is credited with many sayings.  Two of my favorites are “Adversity introduces a man to himself” and “The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.”

I’m reminded of these in reflecting on the aftermath of the Jesus’ trial and execution.  Those same men and women buoyed with faux confidence saw their true characters revealed, and knew fear and shame and humiliation.  Not the traits of heroes, but more like the actions of frail, flawed, imperfect humans – just like each of us.

Jesus’ followers were not heroes from their actions before the Resurrection – they became heroes as a result of their surrender to the grace and salvation evidenced by the life, death and Resurrection of Jesus.

To believers, the miracle of the Resurrection is manifest and 2,000 years after the event a foregone conclusion.  Of course Jesus triumphed; what other outcome could there have been when the Spirit of God Himself takes on human form? But to the men and women of Jesus’ time, and to Paul, Timothy, Silas, Titus and hundreds and then thousands of disciples who followed them, their strength was anything but inevitable.  They were not heroes from their actions before the Resurrection – they became heroes as a result of their surrender to the grace and salvation evidenced by the life, death and Resurrection of Jesus.

Nearly all of the original Apostles and early disciples of Jesus followed him into death or exile.  They did so not with preordained knowledge of Cosmic Supremacy but through that uniquely, divinely-gifted human trait of Faith.  They believed and then were empowered to spread the Kingdom of God. They found the heroes within themselves when faced with the greatest tragedy they could ever have imagined.

If I were to rewrite Bowie’s “Heroes” I wouldn’t change that much.  I might alter
the 3nd verse to reflect Judas or Peter in the Garden.  Or perhaps the 2nd verse to reflect how the Kingship of Jesus redeems the Lost.  And maybe change the line “We could be heroes, just for one day” to read “Now we can be heroes, every day.”

The power of God’s grace can make heroes in faith of us all.  If we simply believe, accept, listen, and act.

One coincidental footnote – Bowie played a cameo role as Pontius Pilate in Martin Scorsese’s 1988 film “The Last Temptation of Christ.” I doubt he connected the dots…

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Five Things You Think You Know (But Really Don’t) – #5 BAD THINGS

“For we know in part and we prophesy in part, but when completeness comes, what is in part disappears. For now we see only a reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.” – 1 Corinthians 13:9, 12

12:39 AM, July 20, 2012. The first calls come into 911 dispatch in Aurora, Colorado. 90 seconds later, police arrive on the scene at theater 9 at the Century 16 Cinemark multiplex located at 14300 E. Alameda Avenue in the Town Center at Aurora shopping mall. What they find is nothing short of horrific.

Eighty-two casualties were reported on the scene, including twelve fatalities ranging from a 6 year-old girl to a 51 year-old father. Seventy people were hit by bullets while four people had eye damage from tear gas and eight were injured trying to flee the theatre.

“If God really existed, this would never happen.”

The public outcry was immediate and unanimous.  “How could this happen?” some asked. “Why didn’t someone see this coming?” others questioned. And then there was the ever-present chorus from the non-Believer choir: “If God really existed, things like this would never be allowed to happen.”

All of these reactions are normal.  Inoperable disease, mass murder, unwanted divorce after 30 years of marriage, an inexplicable automobile accident in the middle of the night, an airplane crashing into a mountainside during a snowstorm … so many innocent, good people senselessly hurt, lives destroyed.

How could a loving God allow such pain and sorrow to exist? Perhaps there’s no God at all, or maybe stuff just happens, even to Believers. “Why, God? Why me? Why us?”

This is the heart of our fifth and final installment of things we think are in the Bible but really aren’t:

#5 BAD THINGS HAPPEN TO GOOD PEOPLE

On the surface, it actually makes sense.  “Good” people are tested by God and “bad” things happen to them for lessons to be learned.  There must be a reason.

Addressing this subject, Rick Warren writes: “This ‘why’ question is human nature, and we all ask it. We have this misconception that if we understand the reason behind our pain, then it will make the pain easier.” As rational beings living in the Post-Enlightenment Age, we can explain anything if we just understand it.

Yet, this very same “why” question isn’t new; it goes back millennia.

It was asked by Job and by David in Psalms; Jesus cried it out from the cross; Giovanni Boccaccio wrestled with the question during the Renaissance; and it was especially relevant during the last century, with global conflicts including two World Wars, the massacre of Jews and others at the hands of the Nazi regime, genocides in the Soviet Union and China, seemingly endless famines in Africa, the Khmer Rouge killing fields, the scourge of AIDS, the travesty in Rwanda and ethnic cleansing of the Kosovo War.

And this century didn’t start much better. First came 9/11 and now the Syrian slaughters, and on and on. Why do all of these horrific things happen if there’s a loving and powerful God? Why do bad things happen to good people?

The straight answer is this: except in cases of His direct intervention (for instance, the Creation Event, or the Flood Event, or the protection offered to Moses in fleeing Pharaoh, or especially the birth, ministry, execution and resurrection of Christ), God does not directly cause or prevent either the “good” or “bad” things that happen to humans, natural or manmade.  Let’s explore this with three quick observations.

First, God is not the creator of evil and suffering.  While God exists eternally as Father, Son and Holy Spirit entwined in a perfect relationship of love, humans were created with free will to either experience or reject that love.  Love requires a choice.

We ask: “But doesn’t God know before hand? Can’t He stop it?” The question, while real, misses the larger point: even in situations where we may be the innocent victim of someone else’s madness or a savage disease, the reality of free choice must run its course, otherwise we humans are little more than mindless automatons.

Second, evil and suffering, while tragic,  are used by God for His greater purpose in drawing humans to His presence.  As Paul writes in Romans 8:28: “We know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose.”  Notice Paul doesn’t say how God creates good from bad circumstances, or when any of us will personally see how it plays out. Nor does God promise this to everyone. He makes the covenant that our suffering can be turned to good if we commit to following Him.

Finally, we each decide if suffering makes us bitter or strengthens our faith. In times of deep crisis, especially after we’ve prayed as deeply and most convicted as we can, it’s natural to feel disappointment, anger, or even disbelief when those prayers are not answered. The death of a child to  cancer, a heart attack in the middle of the night, a business failure leading to bankruptcy … senseless pain.  Why, God, why?

On May 3, 1980, 13-year-old Cari Lightner, was killed by a drunken hit-and-run driver in Fair Oaks, California. Her mother, Candace Lightner, could understandably have fallen into endless despair and grief, bitter at the world. Instead, she quit her job four days after the accident and founded Mothers Against Drunk Drivers (MADD). She turned tragedy to good by taking action. “In all things God works for the good of those who love him.”

Jesus said in John 16:33: “I have told you these things so that in me you may have peace. You will have suffering in this world. But be courageous! I have conquered the world.”

God doesn’t want us to need an explanation; He wants us to need His strength, to need a Savior, to need comfort and support.  He wants us to trust His will completely.  He asks that we surrender everything to Him – even our grief.

Tragedy will strike; suffering will come; we will struggle and wrestle with pain. But if we run into God’s grace, we’ll discover peace in our hearts for today, strength for tomorrow, and the staggering assurance of eternal life.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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The Greatest Fixer of All

“‘If you can’?” said Jesus. “Everything is possible for one who believes.” – Mark 9:23

I’ve always been a fixer.  It’s kind of what I do.

When something’s broken, I fix it.  See a cracked or chipped place in the wall?  Patch it up. Leaky faucet?  Yep, that’s me with the wrench (well, in truth I’m not much of a plumber but I’m dynamite with a cell phone so I know who to call).  Broken relationships?  Bring ‘em on.  Thorny problem at work?  Send it my way.  And don’t even get me started about crooked pictures.  Tip: if you ever invite me over for a cup of coffee or bite to eat, don’t be surprised to find me wandering around your house looking for crooked pictures, smudged windows, out-of-place books.  It’s a curse.

The “original” James T. Kirk”

One of my great childhood heroes, one of the guys on whom I modeled myself, was  Captain James T. Kirk.  Kirk defined the idea of the ultimate fixer.  He never believed in the no-win scenario.  Yeah, I know he was created by Gene Roddenberry and only lives in films, but Kirk could fix anything!  I wanted to be just like him.  And don’t get me started on the Shatner vs. Pine claptrap.

Of course, with age comes “wisdom” – that grown-up sounding word too often serving as a proxy for “acceptance” in place of “perseverance.”  We learn of consequences.  We learn of fallibility.  We learn of our own shortcomings and inadequacies.  We learn of the brokenness in our hearts and how sometimes no matter what we do, we can’t fix the problems right in front of us.

It’s a hard realization for someone convinced of their own invincibility.  Someone like me.

I have a friend, a very close friend who has recently been struggling; wrestling with internal voices and external pressures and doubts and uncertainties.  Many of the same issues a lot of us face every day.  There are times when these voices and pressures and doubts become deafening, drowning out the real truth: my friend is, in ways large and small, amazing.  As a parent, as the child of parents, as a friend, as a sibling, as a human being. Absolutely, utterly amazing.  A miracle – just as we all are.

The fixer in me wants to help, to rush in and begin barking orders, to repair the brokenness. But I can’t.  It saddens me, and hurts my heart.

How many of us have faced this, a situation where we’re seemingly powerless to solve the pain in someone else, wanting to solve the problem but unable to make the rescue?  It’s a sobering, humbling experience.  And sometimes, it causes us to doubt.

A story very early in the Bible, from the book of Genesis, reminds me of this scenario.

Abraham and his wife Sarah had wanted a child for years, yet they had never conceived.  Sarah, assuming she was simply not meant for motherhood, had long ago put away her hope.

One day God appears to Abraham, in the form of three men standing under a tree.  Abraham instructs Sarah to prepare a meal for the strangers and visits with them.

During their conversation, God asks Abraham where his wife is. Then He says something incredible: “I will surely return to you about this time next year, and Sarah your wife will have a son.” (Genesis 18:10).

Nearby, Sarah overhears their conversation and laughs out loud, saying she and Abraham were too old and she would never have the pleasure of a child.  She had given up.

When God heard Sarah’s laughter, He said to Abraham “Why did Sarah laugh and say, ‘Will I really have a child, now that I am old?’ Is anything too hard for the LORD?”

Is anything too hard for God? We each face challenges and difficult situations in life. And in the midst of them God asks, “Do you think your problem is too hard for me to fix? Or do you believe I can work it out for you, even though you think it’s impossible?”

Jesus reminds us in Luke 18:27 “What is impossible with man is possible with God.”  How many of us really believe this?  How many of us accept that God can perform the impossible in our lives, in our families, in our jobs, in our futures?

Of course, we’re quick to counsel others that He can. We tell others to pray, to have hope, to believe in the impossible because God is the doer of the impossible.  But do we really believe these truths for ourselves?

You won’t read that in the Presbyterian Book of Order, the Church of Christ Book of Worship, the Baptist Manual of Theology Christian Doctrine Church Order, the Methodist Book of Discipline, or even the Catholic Book of Canon Law.  Astonishingly, it’s the ultimate Truth of our faith.  God is not simply the Creator, the maker of all things, who acts and then sits back watching it unfold.  God is also an action-oriented DO-ER yearning to do the impossible in our lives.  The message of Scripture is clear: if we don’t believe this about Him, we don’t believe in Him at all.

Yet, how many of us at one time or another have lacked belief?  That kind of response points to only one thing: we’ve bought into The Lie. The Lie of Hopelessness.  The Lie of Impossibility.  The Lie that God is powerless to help us.

Friends, no amount of counseling or shoulder-leaning or therapy in the world can help us unless we absolutely believe God’s word: Nothing in our lives is beyond His ability to fix. Otherwise, our faith is in name only, futile and impotent. The unspoken truth underlying our faith is this: we can’t really believe in God until we believe He is God of the Impossible.

I’m a father, blessed with two amazing, beautiful daughters for whom I would do or give anything.  So I relate very well to a story told in Mark 9:14, where a distraught father brought his demon-possessed son to Jesus’ disciples seeking deliverance.

This boy was considered hopeless. Both deaf and speechless, he spewed out only guttural sounds. He foamed at the mouth like a mad dog, and physically he was skin and bone, emaciated by his awful struggle. His father had to hold onto him continually, because the demons constantly tried to cast him into the nearest river, lake or open fire, wanting to kill him. His situation was dire.

Unspoken Truth: we can’t really believe in God until we believe He is God of the impossible.

While the father asked the disciples for their help, the boy’s demons began manifesting themselves as he foamed at the mouth, rolling on the ground, contorting and gyrating wildly. Scripture tells us the disciples prayed over him – perhaps for a long time – but nothing happened.

It must have seemed an impossible situation. Soon the doubting scribes crowded around, asking, “Why is the boy not healed? Is this case too hard for your Lord? Is the devil more powerful here?”

And then Jesus came on the scene. When he asked what was going on, the father  answered, “I brought my son to your disciples, but they couldn’t heal him. He’s a hopeless case.”  Jesus responded simply, “All things are possible to he who believes.”  Christ was telling everyone present, “Do you believe I’m able to handle anything except what Satan has claimed for his own?  I tell you, there is no problem, no impossible circumstance, I cannot fix.”

Yet with a single word, Jesus made the impossible a reality.  He discharged the unclean spirit and, taking the boy by the hand, lifted him from the ground.

Can you imagine the joy in this scene?  That clean, freed boy must have run to his father and embraced him.  And the father’s heart leapt with joy.  God had fixed it all.

God restores whatever appears dead in our lives with a single word.  He acts even when we don’t, even when we won’t, even when we can’t.  He stands ready to save us from even our most desperate brokenness.  And He does this with or without our acceptance.  Yet to receive the power of those actions, we must accept as true His ability to act as God of the Impossible.  In a word, we must Believe.

The friend I mentioned earlier is, blessedly, taking action, even as I write these words.  I’m so incredibly proud of my friend for taking this step. I may be unable to fix the situation, as much as I want to believe I could, but with God’s help, and with prayer, I have no doubt my friend will overcome the doubts and fear and pain and sense of insufficiency holding them back from realizing the miracle they truly are.

God can fix anything.  Even you.  Even me. It’s kind of what He does.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Learning to Learn

“Children, obey your parents in the Lord, for this is right.” – Ephesians 6:1

Like many folks in my generation, I grew up listening to the advice of my mother and father. Not that I was model child, mind you, just that they were there and, well, I listened. Sometimes I learned. More often, I nodded and ignored. Such is youth.

Of course, ask any 15-25 year-old today and you may get a different answer. Not only do they ignore as we did, they tune out! This is not completely on them – today’s distracted society creates plenty of opportunities to look the other way and if we’re being honest, parents in many cases are too overly concerned about being “cool” or “friends” or “young” to actually practice real parenting. Such is life in Century 21.

When my mother passed a few months ago, childhood memories played over and over in my thoughts. I had decided to deliver the eulogy and as I tried organizing my comments into a narrative that conveyed her life but also reflected what she taught me, I was reminded of Proverbs 1:8 “Listen, my son, to your father’s instruction and do not forsake your mother’s teaching.” Okay, so Proverbs is talking about fathers but play along here.  The deeper meaning beyond an Exodus 20:12 admonishment to respect your parents is to learn from those who come before us.  They’ve lived the mistakes we haven’t yet imagined.

Throughout my life, I’ve strived to learn something new every day. My dad called me a “human vacuum” because I always inhaled information and could recall it effortlessly. This proved to be highly benefi
cial in growing a profession, but it also provides a valuable lesson in life.

Learning happens in several ways. The two most obvious (and most often employed) are: easy and hard. The hard way? Hurl yourself into a brick wall, back up hit it again. Rinse and repeat. The easy way? Learn the first time we face plant. And sometimes, we can simply remember what someone told us 10 years ago…

Chuck Swindoll, senior pastor at Stonebriar Community Church in Frisco, Texas, wrote: “The wonderful thing about God’s schoolroom is that we get to grade our own papers… He doesn’t test us so He can learn how well we’re doing. He (allows) tests so WE can discover how well we’re doing.”

There’s vital guidance from scripture in this. Proverbs 1:8 is more than a mere suggestion to respect our parents and God isn’t throwing us a trick question. When we resist instruction, the teaching continues regardless of our opinion!

Our challenge as leaders (and humans) is to discern lessons as they are presented in our daily lives, learn from those, then move to the next lesson.  Sometimes we can even remember what mom and dad told us.

Rinse and repeat.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Too Much is Never Enough

 

“I denied myself nothing my eyes desired; I refused my heart no pleasure.  My heart took delight in all my work, and this was the reward for all my labor. Yet when I surveyed all that my hands had done and what I had toiled to achieve, everything was meaningless, a chasing after the wind; nothing was gained under the sun.”  Ecclesiastes 2:10-11

 One of my favorite movies every year is the Frank Capra classic “It’s a Wonderful Life.”  I suspect we’ve all seen this film many times, maybe with at Christmas time with friends or family.  One of the key early scenes is a confrontation between the hero, George Bailey – a man whose future lies in front of him – and the evil millionaire Henry Potter, a man seemingly with everything yet has no redeeming qualities.

In this scene, George is preparing to leave on his long awaited trip to Europe, but is stopped by Potter’s desire to take over the Building and Loan built by George’s father.  Of course, we know how the story ends.  George stays, loses the $8,000 meant for his European trip which he decided to use to save the Building and Loan, and learns the true meaning of life and “having it all” along the way.

What if we could really have it all?  Money. Power. Love. Sex. Respect. Popularity. Absolutely anything we wanted. Many of us spend our lives wishing for that very scenario—or at least imagining what it would be like. But not many of us get there.

Mel Gibson, who has recently re-emerged to Hollywood accolades, got there.

Once an obscure Australian actor, Gibson’s first big break came at 23 in the cult classic Mad Max. More big roles followed in blockbusters such as the Lethal Weapon series, Maverick, Ransom, Conspiracy Theory, Payback, What Women Want and Signs. As his international stardom grew, so did his bank account. At one point Gibson was one of the top-paid actors in the world getting $25 million for every movie he starred in.

But acting wasn’t enough for him. In 1993 he stepped behind the camera to direct The Man Without a Face. Two years later he earned two Academy Awards for directing and producing Braveheart. He earned over half a billion dollars for his production of Passion of the Christ. He seemed unstoppable.

Gibson’s success didn’t stop with his career. He was married to the same woman for 25 years, and they had seven kids together. People magazine named him the Sexiest Man Alive. Premiere magazine listed him as one of the most powerful people in Hollywood.

Worldwide fame. Unlimited riches. True love. Fatherhood. Widespread respect for his talent. International renown for his sexual appeal. Virtually limitless power in his career. Rarely does one man get so much in one lifetime.

Mel Gibson had it all. So he must have been the happiest man on the planet, right? He had the power to do almost anything he wanted. The money to buy almost anything he could imagine. Almost nothing was out of reach for him.

Yet Gibson felt something was missing. All he had wasn’t enough. So he added some new experiences to the mix: addiction. Drugs, alcohol, women, anything. His addictions very nearly ruined his life, if not his career.

Eventually Gibson sought treatment for his addictions. But after getting clean and sober, he found himself right back where he had started: with an emptiness in his life.  He was in the celebrity wilderness for over 10 years.

Gibson wasn’t the first guy to reach that depressing conclusion. In fact the viewpoint is as ancient as the Old Testament.  King Solomon, sometimes referred to as the wisest man in antiquity, was such a man.  Solomon reached the same conclusion about life on earth over 3,000 years ago.  In the Book of Ecclesiastes, he spells out everything he tried in his quest for meaning in this life—and how all of it left him feeling empty.

What happened to Solomon in his quest for meaning?  How did a man who began with so much promise end with such despair and hopelessness?  And more importantly, could this happen to you and me?

Early in his reign, Solomon was described as a king who could do no wrong.  The first 10 chapters of I Kings offer numerous instances of Solomon’s remarkable fitness as King of Israel:

  • In 1 Kings 2 Solomon consolidates his rule.
  • In Chapter 3 God grants him wisdom, wealth, and honor.
  • In Chapter 4, we see Solomon coming into the fullness of his wealth and fame.  Verse 26 reads “Solomon had four thousand stalls for chariot horses and, and twelve thousand horses.”
  • Chapters 5 – 7 describe the building of the Temple and Solomon’s palace, where over 180,000 men were conscripted to provide the labor.
  • Chapter 8 details the dedication of the Temple and the placing of the Ark into inner sanctuary.
  • In Chapter 9 God appears to Solomon for a second time, saying He had heard Solomon’s appeal and promising to put his Name and eyes and heart on the Temple forever and to establish Solomon’s royal throne over Israel forever, so long as Solomon walks before Him “faithfully with integrity of heart and uprightness.”

But then God says something else, something foreshadowing not only Solomon’s later years but the very future of Israel itself.  Listen to the God’s admonition from verses 6-9: “But if you or your descendants turn away from me and do not observe the commands and decrees I have given you and go off to serve other gods and worship them, then I will cut off Israel from the land I have given them and will reject this temple I have consecrated for my Name.’”

This is a remarkable warning from God, directly aimed at Solomon’s one significant character flaw – indeed, the central character flaw in so many of us – pride and the belief that he could discern a better path than the one God has directed.

What I find most interesting here is God’s consistency.  Throughout scripture, God compels us to stay on a path to righteousness.  He doesn’t lurk in the dark corners, waiting for us to make mistakes and raining down punishment when we do.  He tells us plainly, simply, how to lead a life of fulfillment.  He also tells us the consequences when we don’t.

Solomon seemed to have his reign secured.  He had followed God Faithfully and used his wisdom and wealth judiciously.  Yet lying in Solomon’s heart was the seed of his downfall.

What caused that downfall?  In a word, COMPROMISE.  Solomon

“The Visit of the Queen of Sheba to King Solomon” – Edward Poynter, 1890

compromised his wisdom to gain earthly possessions and fame.  Ultimately, these compromises emptied Solomon’s heart of his love for God.

Solomon’s compromise is our compromise.  Solomon’s downfall is our downfall.  Solomon’s problem was not ignorance but outright rebellion – just as we rebel in our own ways.

Late in life, reflecting on his past, Solomon would realize the mistakes he made in writing Ecclesiastes.  His conclusion in Ecclesiastes 12:13 is telling: “Now all has been heard; here is the heart of the matter: Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is duty if all mankind.”

No prosperity in the world matters more than this, even today.  As Jesus admonished the crowd in Luke 12:15: “Watch out! Be on guard against all kinds of greed; life does not consist in an abundance of possession.”  Rather, Jesus tells us in Matthew 6:33 “Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness,” just as Solomon had done early in his life.

So many of us know the legacy of Solomon all too well. Over the course of our lives we fall victim to the pursuit of position, of money, and yes, the lure of adoration.  Every achievement – a promotion, a large bonus check, flattery from someone – feeds this sense that we are somehow responsible for our own destinies, that we need no one but myself.

The truth is we are in control of our own destinies.  God grants us that choice.  He calls us to righteousness and we have the choice on how we respond.  We can choose God’s path or we can choose a different path.  When we select a path different from the one God has put before us, He warns us of the consequences.

Like Solomon, most of us have chosen wrongly in the past.  Those choices may have taken large tolls on our relationships, our health, even our walk with God.  All for the pursuit of wealth or recognition or popularity or acceptance.  And all for, as Solomon discovered, nothing.

Yet the story of redemption is, ultimately, the story of return: returning to the path God has set before us, returning to our true selves rather than the selves we have created, returning to the unconditional love given to us by our heavenly Father.  At the moments of our own turning points, perhaps times in when nothing seems to really matter, we find redemption and acceptance and are welcomed back into the arms of a loving God.

Solomon had choices.  We have choices.  God awaits our response.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Small Steps

Now the Spirit of the Lord departed from Saul, and an evil spirit from the Lord terrorized him. Saul’s servants then said to him, “Behold now, an evil spirit from God is terrorizing you.” – 1 Samuel 16:14-15

November 28, 1979. Air New Zealand Flight 901, a large passenger jet with 257 people on board, left Auckland Airport in New Zealand for what was planned as a short sightseeing flight to Antarctica and back. Unknown to Captain Jim Collins and co-pilot Greg Cassin, flight coordinates in the on-board navigation system had somehow been incorrectly modified by a mere two degrees the night before. They were never notified.

The error placed Flight 901 some 28 miles east of where the pilots assumed they were. Approaching Antarctica, the plane descended to a lower altitude, giving the passengers a better view of the landscape. Although experienced pilots, neither men in the cockpit had made this particular flight before, and had no way of knowing the incorrect coordinates had placed them directly in the path of Mount Erebus, Antarctica’s second-highest active volcano rising more than 12,000 feet from the frozen landscape. The inevitable result was tragic: everyone on board died in the crash.

This heartbreaking disaster was brought on by a single, minor error – a small, misplaced step even before the flight began with drastic consequences.

Our lives are sometimes like that. We make decisions leading us astray one step here, one step there. Nothing major in the moment yet potentially disastrous in the long wrong. A furtive glance at a bar followed by a “harmless” text; trying something “just once” because everyone else is; a little exaggerated accomplishment on a resume; a mindless bit of diversion on the internet when no one is looking; that extra, last shot at 2 am (ok, so maybe that one was from personal experience). Small steps.

Scripture tells this story multiple times. One example is the downfall of Saul, King of Israel. His life beginning with great promise, Saul met a tragic end after starting as a “choice young man.” 1 Samuel 9:2

Saul’s shortcoming was a simple one: he was given very explicit instructions by God concerning the Amalekites but instead, he acted on his own. In fact, he believed his disobedience was actually pleasing to God! He spared the Amalekite king and saved a few sheep and cattle to use as a sacrifice. As we read in verses 14 and 15, God was not pleased at all.

Consider the situation. Here is Saul, trying to take the initiative, more or less accomplishing the task, but missing one small detail. Because he acted on his own. For those who know the story, things don’t end well for Saul. God rejects him as king of Israel and anoints David as his successor.

The life of Samson as told in Judges 13-16 is a similar story. His march to ruin happened one small step at time, one bad decision followed by another. He taunts his enemy (step).  He excused his current behavior because he had done it before (step). He believed his actions had no consequences (step).

The difference of a misstep, whether on an airborne flight without the pilots’ knowledge, or with a king’s inability to follow God’s call, may seem trivial. Yet the consequences can be disastrous.  Like dominoes, one decision results in another decision and another, each built on the first domino. Without a pattern interrupt or mid-course correction an unnecessary consequence becomes unavoidable.

And this, ultimately, is the power of Grace. The small steps we’ve each taken on the road to where we are can be undone through God’s limitless Salvation. While this doesn’t free our decisions from consequence, it does mean we are not forever chained to our mistakes. And unlike the pilots of flight 901, we can correct for those two degrees of flight coordinates.

To be sure, it may take many more small steps to undo our choices from yesterday. We may not be able to leap from the proverbial frying pan and clear the fire all at once. But we have the ability through Grace to take that first new step.

God gives us the chance to reclaim our lives. We have to find the strength and faith to believe. And then, with God’s help, we can erase the guilt of our past and walk confidently into the future created for us.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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Integrity Matters

“Let no one despise you for your youth, but set the believers an example in speech, in conduct, in love, in faith, in purity.” – 1 Timothy 4:12

Integrity is more than just a word, particularly for leaders. Integrity matters.

Built day by day, year after year, integrity is in many ways our lifetime’s work, the sum of every decision we make (right or wrong) and every word we speak. Integrity doesn’t volunteer itself, but is instead hard-won, built over years of worthy effort and honed with truth and fairness. It is also fragile – difficult to build but easily demolished with even a single failing.

This is especially true for the current generation, many stepping into leadership roles for the first time.  Perhaps as leader of a group at work, or leader of a youth ministry at church.  Or even leader of their families.

Integrity, more than any single skill, trait or capability, often defines success or failure in life.  Perhaps more than any other time in history, today’s young leaders are faced with more ways to bend the rules, skirt the edges of moral strength, and even redefine the very understanding of “right” and “wrong.”  Moral relativism ultimately leads to a moral vacuum.

In the first letter to his protégé Ephesian pastor Timothy (1 Timothy), Paul writes to the emerging young leader about how to face the inevitable struggles he will face as an energetic new face in the church working with older Believers who may find difficulty following his leadership because of his relative inexperience.

What makes this Epistle so profound is how specific Paul is in his instruction on leadership. At the core of the letter, considered by many to be the most complete and detailed letter of instructions to the growing church following Jesus’ commissioning of his Apostles, is the concept of integrity. Paul advised Timothy on the practical matter of purity in leadership that should define Christian leaders and the congregations they shepherd.

And yes, secular business leaders can take a cue from this.

Leadership is built on trust, and trust is founded in the integrity of living each
 day with discipline, honesty and good faith. If leaders follow this, they will be rewarded with the ingrained integrity habit and followers who believe in their leadership.

Wayne Oates, the American psychologist and educator who coined the term “workaholic,” once wrote “Maintaining your integrity in a world of sham is no small accomplishment.” In the words of Billy Graham, “Integrity is the glue that holds our way of life together.”

“An overseer … must be above reproach,” Paul wrote to Timothy, “… self-controlled, sensible, respectable, hospitable … not a bully but gentle, not quarrelsome, not greedy.”

Wise words to us all. If we follow them our integrity will take care of itself.

Peace.
Colossians 1:17

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The Grace of Silence

 

“But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child is my soul within me.” Psalm 131:2

I was having drinks with a friend recently, a self-proclaimed “agnostic.” As an aside, my definition of agnosticism is someone who lacks the intellectual curiosity to learn what Faith entails yet also lacks the (fill in your descriptive term of choice) to outright deny the the existence of a Creator. And yes, I said this person was a friend and yes, we were having a drink.

Actually, I don’t determine friendships based on someone’s political, religious, social, or financial viewpoints even if they differ from mine. Many of my friends hold beliefs diametrically opposed to mine. In fact, I can easily befriend anyone as long as we can share a laugh, a vigorous debate, and a handshake (or hug if they have no personal space issues) over a meal or drink. Well, except Philadelphia Eagles fans and anyone who still has a pair of JNCOs lurking in the back of their closet (you folks know who you are). Sorry, but a guy’s gotta have his standards.

Back to the story. My friend had read a recent post of mine that contained a bit of a faith overtone. He chortled and said “wait – you don’t really believe God actually speaks directly to you or anyone else, do you?” I thought a moment and remembered advice I’d been given a long time ago. I told my friend “The way I see it, life is a school. There are many teachers and God comes to different people in different ways.”

He laughed off my answer and we changed the topic to football. Because, you know, Super Bowl LI.  (Editor’s note: can we TALK about that come back?”)

The truth is, God doesn’t have to speak to us through state-of-the-art sound systems, or even through disembodied booming voices from the heavens. The book of Job tells us “For God speaks in one way, and in two, though man does not perceive it.” (Job 33:14).

Rather, I believe God speaks to us in the silence of our hearts. In her book In the Heart of the World, Mother Teresa considers this subject. “In the silence of the heart God speaks,” she writes. “If you face God in prayer and silence, God will speak to you. Then you will know that you are nothing. It is only when you realize your nothingness, your emptiness, that God can fill you with Himself. Souls of prayer are souls of great silence.”

Perhaps all of us need a bit more silence in our lives these days…

Peace.
Colossians 1:17