Curious George

I've been listening to a song by Jack Johnson called "Upside Down". I really like it, partly because it's just a fun song, but also partly because it's from the soundtrack of Curious George the Movie. So, after listening to this for a week or so, it reminded me so much of the light heartedness that Curious George has, I decided I needed to watch the movie.

So, I went down to my local video rental establishment and rented Curious George the Movie... and I watched it. There's something about Curious George that, no matter what situation I'm in, no matter where I find myself, no matter how I feel, makes me smile. Is it his lightheartedness, or is it something more? It could be because he's a monkey, and monkeys are fun, but I don't think that's quite it.

When I think of Curious George, I think of a lot of things. I think of my childhood. I read Curious George books when I was a kid. Life was so simple back then. Sure, it had it's hardships and tough questions like, 'why can't I stay up and watch TV' or the difficult fact that we have to eat all our vegetables before we can have our dessert, but for the most part, life was easy; no responsibilities, no worries. I think also of Tom Hanks in Forrest Gump. The movie begins and ends with a feather and a Curious George book. And, of course, I think of children.

All these things have a common thread, a common intersection: Innocence. That's what draws me to Curious George, and that's what conjures up a smile no matter the circumstance. Innocence. It's something that every person on the planet possessed at the beginning of their life. Some keep it longer than others, but we all are born with it. That's what Curious George personifies. A blissful naiveté that is unaware of the pressures and stresses of life and consumed not by the monotonous rhythms of daily life, but rather by the mystery and splendor that is the world surrounding him. It's something that I long for. It's something that one can only truly appreciate once it's been lost.

I believe this is the state in which we were created, and from which we were meant to live. In the beginning, it was just us, God, and the garden. Our needs were met, we had no worries, no anxieties. We were just left to be filled with wonder at the world which we had been created a part of. We were completely innocent. It was, quite literally, heaven on earth. But then sin entered the picture, and here we are.

But there is a hope. We have hope that we can once again enter into that state of blissful naiveté and innocence that is untouched by the horrors and sorrows of this world. This hope exists in Christ. It was with God that we were first created pure, and it's in and through Christ that we can be remade into that spotless existence once again. Only this time, with a very deep appreciation of what it means to be innocent. If Christ's outstretched hands and gift of re-creation find our acceptance, than a transformation back to innocence can take place. There will come a time when our worries will be no more; our sorrows will be soothed and the horrors of the world will be snuffed. Our existence will be wrapped up with and sustained fully by God, and we'll have nothing to do but be consumed by the wonder of both God's redeemed creation and God himself. We will regain the purity that we see so evident in children, and we find in Curious George.

Why does Curious George make me smile? Curious George makes me smile because it's in him, in his simple curiosity, that I see a glimpse of where we came from, and a hope of where we're going.

Tear

What is a tear that it carries such power?
Much more than a mere saline snivel,
a tear can sooth, and a tear can comfort.
A tear can destroy, and a tear can tear apart.
A tear can mark a beginning,
a tear can force an end.
A single tear can say more
than can a thousand pages.
Looking through a tear,
one can see into one's own soul.
Looking into a tear,
one can see through the defenses of the mind.
A tear can bare witness to the crushing depths of the heart.
A tear can uncover the soul.

What is a tear that it carries such power?
A single tear can force mighty men to the ground.
A single tear can bring forth emotion
from the most hardened heart.
With a single tear,
one can summon many in others.
One tear can render a myriad
of emotions and emancipate the heart
amidst a mire of intransigent indifference.
With one tear, the soul is liberated.
With one tear, an emotion is captured.

What is a tear that it carries such power?
A tear is an historian,
speaking of things past.
A tear is a prophet,
revealing that which is to come.
A tear is a traitor,
revealing secrets we would do well to keep.
A tear is small,
A tear is weak,
A tear is timid
But...

What is a tear that it carries such power?

A Beautiful Sunrise

I was out at a rustic old cabin made out of a barn one weekend for a retreat and something beautiful was shown to me by God. To give a little foundation to this story, this barn is out in the middle of the Kansas country, so the surrounding land is fairly flat; there's a few hills here and there, but for the most part, the skyline is level all the way around the house. And in this house, at the top of the roof, there is a small coop that has windows on all sides of it so you can survey the surrounding country from an elevated position. So one morning, before anyone else was awake, I went up into this coop to look at the sunrise (which, if you're from Kansas, or somewhere where the horizon is unadulterated by a lot of man made clutter, you know that sunrises can be spectacular. So I went up to look at the sunrise this particular morning, but was disappointed when I looked out. The sun was indeed coming up, but there was nothing else in the sky. It was just the sun trying to peek over the horizon. There were no clouds, no birds, nothing.

Before you begin scratching your head and pondering what might possibly be wrong with me that I could be disappointed with a crystal clear, blue skyed sunrise, allow me to explain. I am an artist, so I appreciate and, in fact, love scenes that are full of color and shape and line and texture, so my favorite sunrises (and sunsets) are those with clouds sharing the sky with the sun. So it follows that when I saw the sun alone in the sky, I was somewhat disappointed, though it was still a majestic sight to behold.

This made me think, as I was talking with one of my fellow retreaters. The most beautiful sunrises I've ever seen have been in a sky populated with clouds, puffy, jagged, fluffy, wispy clouds with surfaces to catch the suns red and yellow light filtering through the atmosphere, peeking over the globe. This was a novel thought. The sunrises that are most beautiful are the ones that happen when the sky is not perfect. When the sky contains blemishes and imperfections, when it is not crystal clear and pure open blue, the most beautiful sunrises are produced because the sun, of course, is there, but the clouds, reflecting the suns glorious light create a beautiful and captivating tapestry of color and light. With oranges and blues and reds and pinks and yellows, the sky seems to explode into a panorama of expression. I don't know about you, but when I look at a sunrise such as what I describe here, I am filled with a wonder at how such a thing could be created.

And as I was talking with my fellow retreater, I made the connection that I'd like to share with you. A sunrise is very much like us, as children of God, as brothers and sisters in Christ. Jesus is, no doubt, beautiful all by Himself. The Glory of God become man and perfected through trial and fire and pain, and shining from the inside out with the powerful and glorious light of God can be nothing other than beautiful. But much like a sunrise, as we enter the picture with Christ, we become part of his beautiful scene, as his light reflects off of us. But like the clouds in the sky, we are not perfect. We are not pure and spotless, free of blemish. We have jagged edges, fluffy parts, wispy parts, all parts that when Christ shines his light on us, catch and reflect it back to him and out into the world around us. It's our imperfections that make us beautiful. It's our failures and our weaknesses, and our shortcomings, and our blemishes that in the light of Christ become a tapestry of oranges and blues and reds and pinks and yellows that are capable of taking the breath away from those who see it. Jesus said it as he was talking to the apostle paul: In your weaknesses, my power is made perfect. You might say, in our weakness, in our imperfection, Christ's beauty is made perfect.

If we were all perfect, Christ work on the cross would not mean much, and our redemption would mean little if anything. To redeem a perfect creation, one not need do anything. But when a creature is utterly corrupted, when it has been soiled beyond repair and made vile in the site of its creator, when the created has been made unfit to even be in the presence of the creator and then it redeemed, restored to a right relationship and made to be one with the creator, that is beautiful beyond anything that we could ever see or experience in this world. It's our imperfections that make Christ beautiful in the eyes of unbelievers, of those who don't know Him. It's the fact that we have our faults, we have our downfalls and we have our shortcomings but still can claim and exhibit the life and beauty of Christ in us through His redemptive work on the cross that most beautifully and effectively exhibits his wondrous redemptive power, and the amazing and outrageous grace that flow from his wounded body.

So don't hide it, brothers. Don't cover it up Sisters. Don't sweep it under the rug and pretend like it isn't there. Bring it out into the Light and allow Christ's power to reflect off it and refract through it as He covers it with his blood. Bring your ugly bits out into the open, and watch in amazement as He transforms them into a beautiful Son rise amongst his creation. If you are a redeemed creature, you have nothing that is not covered. Come out into the Light, all of you, and be glorified by His wonderful light!

Infinite Love

I just finished a wonderful book. It's called The Irresistible Revolution written by Shane Claiborne. It's primarily about the emerging underground Christian movement that's spreading and growing across North America, and throughout the world. The book has opened my eyes to a lot of things that I'd never thought about, but make a ridiculous amount of sense now that I see them in the light. One of the more potent things I've seen, and that I'd like to share, is a new angle, or a new paradigm through which I now see my identity in Christ and my relationship with God.

Growing up, and even after I committed my life to Christ, I had a very westernized, Americanized view of Christianity. Jesus died so that I could live. Let me unpack that. I was dead in my sin, condemned under God's wrath, and then Jesus arrived like a knight in brilliant white satin armor and stood in between me and God, absorbing the wrath that had been prepared for me. My debt being paid, my righteousness restored, I could now commune with God and enter into eternal life, having the life of Christ now inside me (Colossians 2:13-14). That is all true; beautifully and wonderfully true. But that's not all. There's more to this life we have in Christ than being joyful and freed from the burdens of sin and the worries of this world.

All that I've just described was purchased by Christ's blood on the Cross. God sent his passover lamb to atone for the sins of his children. The cross was only the atoning sacrifice. God could have done that in a few hours, a few days at the most. But God didn't do that. He spent 33 years in and among his creation. If the sacrifice could have been made, done and over with in a few days, why did he wait so long before he did it?

A year or two ago, the answer that I would have given to that question is "so that he could suffer through the ordeals and hardships, temptations and desires, fears and sorrows in this fallen world in order that he can help us overcome our own." And you know what, that's all true. Christ lived in this world and overcome it in order that we may be freed from it's power in Him. But that's not all. Christ overcame the world so that we can rise above it, but to what end? If all we needed was a ticket out of suffering, he could kill us dead the minute we except his saving grace; that would do the trick. But that's not what happens. There's something more here than just our being freed.

If you read through the gospels and look at how Jesus lived his life, you begin to see patterns. Most of Jesus' recorded interactions with people took place among those who needed healing, who needed love, who needed grace. There are interactions throughout the gospels between Jesus and the religious and social elite, but a majority of his time spent with people is among the oppressed and the poor (both physically and spiritually destitute). He even tells us what's going on. "Those who are well have no need of a physician, but those who are sick. I came not to call the righteous, but sinners." (Mark 2:17) He's not here to simply take away our condemnation, He's here to heal us.

Our ailment is not that of the physical world (though it may manifest itself that way at times), our sickness is a spiritual sickness. We live in a world that has fallen away from God and his life giving affections. We are born, and continue to be until the restoration of our relationship with God, spiritually anemic. We lack the life giving love that flows into us from God.

When you look at how Jesus lived, you can see Him again and again give the people around him life-giving, energizing love to counter their spiritual anemia. That's how he lived, and that's how we, as followers of Christ, are to live. We, possessing the well of living water that is the indwelling spirit of Christ in us, have what the people around us need.

I know a lot of people (I was once, and still may be from time to time, one of them) who hear this message and say, "I know! That's why I'm on the corner telling people about the life giving power of Jesus. That's why I hand out tracts, that's why I tell people that Jesus is the only way to salvation, that's why... etc." But that's not what people need. James says it best, "If a brother or sister is poorly clothed and lacking daily food, and one of you says to him, "Go in peace, be warmed and filled," without giving them the things needed for the body, what good is that?" (James 2:15-16) People don't need to know about Jesus, they need to see Jesus, they need to experience Jesus. They don't need to know about the energizing shot of love, they need the energizing shot of love. A lot of people know about Jesus. Some people even know enough about Him that they know that they need what He has, but tragically, no one has ever showed them His face, or His love, and they remain anemic, despising Him for not coming to help.

The reason (at least one of them) that Jesus lived in the world and overcame it in order that we can overcome it in Him is so that we can be Jesus to those around us. Having overcome the world, no longer being subject to its pressures and stresses, having found our worth in something not of this world, we are able to absorb the pains and sorrows of others who are not yet in Christ. Having Christ as our anchor, we are able to lift enormous burdens. We are able to give until it hurts because the love that we give out of doesn't run out. We are able to allow those we are trying to help to trample us as we hold out the Gift of love to those who need it. We are able to get punched in the face, kicked in the throat, kneed in the groin, socked in the stomach, and kicked in the shins, and get back up and say, "I love you and want to help" because the love that we have, the love that flows from God, has no limit. The love of an eternal God is eternal.

This gives us enormous strength. Strength to move mountains, strength to change the world. If you are in Christ, if you have a relationship with Christ and his love is flowing into you, you have this strength. Most of us don't realize that we have this strength because we never flex our Jesus muscles. We always try and do things out of our own strength, out of our own will, out of our own love, and whatever we can't do out of our own ability, we label as impossible (I know, because I'm one of those people). We rely on our own strength, never stepping out in faith that Jesus' love will carry us.

If you're a follower of Christ, if you have a living relationship with God, you are capable of infinite love. In this finite world, in your finite body, you have been given an infinite love. Use it. Trust it. Go to those who need it and give it to them. An infinite love cannot be for one person, nor can it be kept inside. The finite cannot contain the infinite. You can't experience the full love of Christ without an outlet (it won't fit). It has to flow through you. Use the love, let Christ's love keep you together while the world tears you apart. Loose your life for them and find it in Him. Jesus came into this world to show us how to do this. Jesus came to show us how to be Jesus to others. You can follow Him and experience an infinite love, allowing it to flow through you, or you can sit and do nothing and only experience what love you can fit inside your finite being. It's up to you. Don't settle for the finite when you can have the infinite.

Letting Go of Egypt

In the desert, as the Israelites walked through the wilderness with nothing but the guiding presence of God to let them know when or where they were going, they cried out against Moses, saying "Would that we had died by the hand of the LORD in the land of Egypt, when we sat by the meat pots and ate bread to the full, for you have brought us out into this wilderness to kill this whole assembly with hunger." (Exodus 16:3) Focusing on what they were lacking, focusing on their current pain and discomfort, the people of God forgot the conditions they had come from. Though they did have food to eat, their days were filled with very hard labor and cruel treatment by their taskmasters. What they had forgotten, or lost sight of, is that they were no longer under the oppression of the Pharaoh and the Egyptians, but on their way to a land promised them through a covenant between God and Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob. In their hunger, they remembered not where they were going, but where they had been. The purpose of their liberation from Egypt was to go out and "Serve the LORD". God wanted them to let go of Egypt and cling to and worship Him for what He did, but more for who He is: Almighty God, creator and father of all.

Recently several areas of my life have been thrown into a state of uncertainty, one right after another, and it's unnerving. Having just graduated from College 5 months ago, I'm finding myself in a similar situation as the Israelites in Exodus. From age 5 until age 24, school has been a constant. Up until now, school has been my Egypt. Now before you draw the wrong conclusion, I loved school. School is the reason for many, many very good and positive memories in my life. I wouldn't trade my experiences I've had during the last 19 years for anything in the world, but school has been my Egypt in the sense that it has consumed a very large part of my time, my attention, and my thoughts. School, while enjoyable, has been a very demanding taskmaster.

Now that I've come out of Egypt, I find myself now wandering in the wilderness. With the way seemingly open on all sides and with no path to follow, I'm dependent on God's guiding presence to lead me safely to the place that He has for me. As with Israel in the deserts of northern Africa, my situation at any given time is somewhat uncertain, and each new situation presents a new opportunity to put my trust in God (or to grumble and yearn for situations past).

I'm confident that everyone, no matter their social strata or economic status, has had, and will have times when their lives seem to be in a state of flux, a time when everything, or a lot of things seem to be changing in an uncertain manner, or with an uncertain outcome. It's at these times that God is wanting us to let go of Egypt, whatever Egypt might be, and trust and worship him for what He has done, what He will do, but most importantly, who He is: Almighty God, Creator, Sustainer, Liberator, Savior, Father, and Son.

Arms High and
Heart Abandoned

This evening, I was singing along with the worship band at this week's Thursday night meeting of the KSU Navigators, and they began to sing a chorus that really made me think and challenged me. The chorus went like this, "I stand, with arms wide and heart abandoned, In awe of the one who gave it all. I stand with arms wide and heart surrendered, all I am is yours." This chorus was repeated over and over again, and this at the end of a rather energetic worship set. Singing this over and over again with my own arms in the air, I began to think about the message that was just delivered by Bob Walz, the speaker of the night. His message was about the thirsting of our hearts and the quenching water of Christ. But in the message, he talked about Jesus using metaphor to turn our minds to spiritual things, which are foreign to us, using physical images, which are very familiar to us. Thinking about this while singing this wonderful chorus led me to think, what kind of metaphor could this chorus hold about spiritual things? Of course, it was speaking of worshiping God with energy and vigor and with a recklessly open heart, but though connected to spiritual things, that is still mostly a physical act. Then this thought popped into my head: Standing with arms high is a way to worship in such a way that others can be encouraged and share in your joy. What other way can I worship in that manner? I can share my Lord with people, share what He's done for me, and share with them the promises that a relationship with Him can hold for them. That's worshiping God just as much, if not more, than singing with hands raised high. But, as the testimony of others and my own personal experience have shown, this may lead to some hardship in the sense that people may treat me differently because of what I've shared with them. People may be inclined to keep their distance for whatever reason. This can produce some heavy heart-ache, especially if my heart is invested in the people I share these things with. But that's the second part of the song's chorus: I stand with arms high and heart abandoned. An abandoned heart is a heart that's been left in the open to be broken; one that's no longer protected from being broken. Abandoning my own heart in order that others might come to know the redeeming grace and abundant joy of a relationship with Christ Jesus is, I believe, a high form of worship. That is a desire of mine, to stand with arms high and heart abandoned, but this is not something that one just does one Saturday afternoon. This is a lifestyle. And it's a hard one at that. To seriously live it out one needs to count the cost, and when I do that, I keep coming to the same point. I see what it will cost, and shrink back. I can't tell you why, because I don't quite know, but I do know that I want very much to have the fortitude to count the cost and say "count me in!" Perhaps what my problem is is that I'm only counting the cost. I'm looking at this lifestyle and thinking, "what will this cost me." I think, what will I need to give up, what will I need to deal with, where and how will this hurt? What I don't consider is, what will this give me. How will this benefit me. What will I gain from this lifestyle, and more than that, what will others gain from this lifestyle of mine. In that light, I can say that the decision gets easier. In living a lifestyle of arms high and heart abandoned, I may loose some friends, but I also may gain brothers and sisters. My heart may be broken when someone I've trusted in, loved on, and laid my heart out before rejects what I have to say and me along with it, but I may also get the chance to rejoice with someone who's just found the fulfilling love and all-sufficient grace of Jesus Christ in their lives. I may loose sleep thinking about the people who haven't responded to Christ's invitation, but I also may rejoice in the ones who have received life, and life eternal. When one counts the cost of this lifestyle, it looks hard and dim and painful. But when one weighs the cost of this lifestyle against the benefit, the scenario changes. We begin to see our life as Christ saw his: in other people. This chorus is my desire for my own life. I stand with arms high and heart abandoned, in awe of the one who gave it all. I stand with arms high and heart surrendered. All I am is Yours.

Selfless Living

Jason and I have just finished Matthew, the first Gospel and first book of the New Testament. Jason is a young man I'm helping to find his way in his walk of faith; some might call this discipleship. Anyway, we are, through the course of the next three semesters, reading through the New Testament, excepting the Revelation of John, in search of what it means and what it looks like for us to die to ourselves and take up our cross. As I've read through the pages of Matthew's Gospel letter, I've found with the help of the Holy Spirit bits of wisdom and elements of truth here and there concerning the theme at hand. Overall, what I found throughout the entire book was something I had not anticipated but should have expected.

As I read through the chapters of Matthew as he's retelling Jesus' story, I found myself confronted with not a collection of clues or a list of principles by which to live a life of selfless surrender, but rather the life and character and very nature of God as it was demonstrated in and through Christ. As I was looking for a method or a philosophy to help me shape my life into the self-denying image of the Christians that inhabited the first century church, I found instead a reason to shape my life into such a pattern of living. Reading about Jesus and his life among his creation, I began to see that I was approaching this study with a slightly skewed focus. When I drew up this study, my goal was to comb the scriptures from Matthew to Jude for wisdom and principles to guide my pursuit of life dead to self, completely surrendered to Christ. The error of this approach is best captured by one of Jesus' parables in chapter twelve of Matthew.

"43When the unclean spirit has gone out of a person, it passes through waterless places seeking rest, but finds none. 44Then it says, 'I will return to my house from which I came.' And when it comes, it finds the house empty, swept, and put in order. 45Then it goes and brings with it seven other spirits more evil than itself, and they enter and dwell there, and the last state of that person is worse than the first. So also will it be with this evil generation."

Building up to this passage, Matthew records the Pharisees testing Jesus, calling him Satan or a demon, and then demanding a sign. Then it's with the story of the return of an unclean spirit that he tells the Pharisees why he doesn't give them a sign. If they had proof that Jesus was in fact the son of God, they would, in the habit of their ingrained cultural mindset, attempt to follow and be devout to Jesus on their own power, apart from the Holy Spirit, forsaking the old covenant by which the Jews at his point in God's story received their communion with and blessing from God. They would, in an attempt to serve God in the only way that they knew how, leave themselves wide open to the influences of the enemy, the evil and unclean spirits of the world. Without the indwelling power of Christ's Holy Spirit and the righteousness that only He can give, a life in pursuit of pleasing God would prove disastrous (the Pharisee's demonstrated this with their customs and religiosity). The only thing staying the fatal wrath of God for them was their connection to Abraham and their citizenship in God's nation). As they would stray form God's Law that came by Moses, trying to follow Christ's teachings, they would leave their lives open to all kinds of outside influences.

My point in all this is that as Jason and I are seeking to find the path of God-honoring selflessness, to die to self, we must not leave our hearts and souls vacant. As we learn how to kill ourselves in a manner of speaking, we also need to seek to replace the freshly vacant place in our lives with something that will firmly and permanently occupy it, or it will be filled with something that we won't like, or that is not good for us. As we die slowly to ourselves, we need to look to Christ to fill that empty space that's been created. This is exactly what was stated in the intent of this three semester study Jason and I are undertaking, but up front, I didn't see what it really meant. As we lay ourselves down, we need to pick up the cross of Christ. Part of that is knowing what the cross is all about. And knowing what the cross is all about, we must know what Christ is all about. In short, the gospel of Matthew and the others (Mark, Luke, & John) are not places to glean principles for living or clues on how to live a Godly, selfless life. The Gospels are a place to look for a reason for living a Godly, selfless life. It is only on this strong foundation that the teachings and wisdom recorded in the acts of the apostles and their epistles can be applied in a Christ centered and God honoring way. To die to self and take up our cross literally means to lay down ourselves and take up Christ. Do this, set yourself aside and make Christ your entire purpose for living, and you will see a new world unfold before you eyes and experience a joy that was previously unthinkable.

Then Jesus told his disciples, "If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross and follow me." --Matthew 16:24

The Strength of the Ox

King David was a strong and very influential man in the life and times of the Biblical Kingdom of Israel. He was the 'great warrior king' and a 'man after God's own heart'. He conquered the enemies of Israel, and held his reign over God's nation with His anointing for the longest of all the kings of Israel. It is fitting a king of David's character and reputation would produce the wisest earthly king ever to hold the throne of Israel. King Solomon, David's son, found favor with God as he prayed for wisdom to lead God's people. Finding Solomon to be a righteous man with a heart to please Him, God gave solomon all wisdom and blessed his reign with riches beyond compare. Solomon eventually lost God's favor by turning away from His commands, turning instead to the pleasures of this world. He did, however, impart his wisdom to countless generations through his books preserved in the scriptures before he made his exit, most notably the book of Proverbs (coming right after the book of Psalms, a good portion of which was written by his father). In the verses of Proverbs, we find many profound truths and observations of reality. I'd like to focus on one of these verses in particular. This proverb is profoundly accurate in describing simultaneously the truth lying at the core of both a life lived to the full and a life squandered.

Proverbs chapter fourteen verse four reads, " Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox." These words, up front may seem like meaningless ramblings, but within these two phrases are contained a truth that one would do well to pay attention to. To begin with, let's look at the two sides of this proverb and discuss and dissect it for its face value. The first part of the proverb states that "where there are no oxen, the manger is clean." Without overanalyzing it, this makes sense. If a manger is meant to house oxen, that will naturally mean that oxen would eat there. And where oxen eat they... well lets just say what goes up must come down if you catch my drift. Of course, if there are no oxen to... come down in the manger, the manger is clean. Easy stuff. What this also implies, as we can see, is that where there are oxen, the manger is messy. Anyone who has ever been around a feed yard where cattle are kept, or in a dairy barn, or in a stable knows that, when these are full of their respective tenants, they tend to have a very distinct oder. It's messy.

The second part of the proverb argues, "but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox." In the time when this was written, oxen were used as beasts of burden. They were used to pull carts, thresh grain, and tow plows. Any farmer that was serious about growing any kind of crop had an ox or a team of oxen. Basically, the ox was the equivalent of a tractor. So, to have any kind of crop, oxen were necessary. Pretty straight forward right? By putting these two face-value observations together, we should get a clearer picture of what this proverb is meant to communicate. Oxen are messy to keep, and to be without them would result in a clean(er) environment, but if one is to expect to raise a crop, one must have them.

It seems that, like most of Solomon's proverbs, it presents us with two incompatible realities. Reality one: Life without oxen is a clean one. Reality two: Life with oxen produces abundant crops. In presenting us with two realities that are mutually exclusive, that is, two realities that cannot exist together, Solomon presents us with a choice: Reality one, or reality two. In short, we can choose to be clean and tidy, or to be productive. It is in this distilled simplification of the proverb that we find truth that we can apply to many areas of our life. For example, if you have a shiny new car, you can either put in a garage or under a cover and never drive it in order to preserve its clean and shiny appearance, or you can use it to get from point A to point B and get it dirty with grime and dust and bugs and bird poo. The first choice would keep the car looking pretty and shiny, but would not be very practical at all. You would have an eighteen thousand dollar center-peice. The other choice would foul the pretty and shiny appearance of the car, but would allow you to travel much more quickly and easily between places. Or, to use a slightly more abstract example, one could either stay at home all day and do only the things one wanted to do like watch TV and sleep and maybe spend some time outdoors at one's own leisure, or one could get a job and work during the weekdays and subject oneself to activities that maybe aren't at the top of the list of fun things, in order that one can earn some money to live with. While the first sounds like it would be a good life to live, it wouldn't be very productive, and the quality of life would be severely hindered by a lack of resources. But the other choice would limit some of the immediate gratification, but would yield more resources and thus more options when the time came to enjoy ones free time.

The context that this applies most directly to, and that I would like to highlight, is that of the spiritual life, specifically, that of a believer; a follower of Christ. Jesus, in his commands and parables, tells us to do some things that could get pretty messy, some things that could drastically alter the course of one's life. In hearing these commands and the promises of what obeying these commands will yield, we are faced with the decision of Proverbs 14:4. We can remain clean and tidy, or we can dive into life headfirst for Christ and get messy, dirtying up our shiny lives and producing a crop for harvest. Jesus says "Give to the one who begs form you, and do not refuse the one who would borrow from you" (Matthew 5:42). He also says that when we give aid to those in need, we give aid to Jesus himself, who will in turn give us the Kingdom of heaven (Matthew 25:34,40). So when confronted with this command it's resulting effect, we can either, keep for ourselves our resources and our time, and let those in need find their own, maintaining a self-appeasing lifestyle, or we can give of our resources and our time, sacrificing what enjoyment we could have gained from those things for the enjoyment of others, and ultimately the eternal reward that is created in Heaven. The first is clean, and safe, and not very challenging, but it flies in the face of productivity for God's Kingdom. The second is messy; sometimes producing uncertain outcomes, and leaving us in situations that we might not be comfortable in, but will produce fruit in our lives and possibly the lives of others. The truth is, to follow Christ, to obey His commands and live the lifestyle that He calls all believers to live is messy and stinky and at times it can be very hard. But it's that lifestyle, the lifestyle that creates a messy and stinky and hard life, that will produce the most fruit for the Kingdom of God. Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox.

The Wonderful Suffering of Christ
An Easter Letter

It's March fifteenth, a Saturday, and as I sit reading Matthew's Gospel letter, I arrive at Matthew 26:30, as Jesus tells his disciples they will all fall away. Tomorrow is Palm Sunday, so I am especially tuned into the Passion of Christ. As I get to 26:36 where Jesus begins to pray at Gathsemane, I begin to pay close attention to how Jesus acts in addition to what he says. Before he begins to pray, after taking Peter, James, and John on further into the garden, Matthew says Jesus "began to be sorrowful and troubled". Jesus, the Son of God, the King of Kings, who in the face of demons and even death itself maintained a calm and composed demeanor, was sorrowful and troubled. Matthew goes on. After telling his disciples that he is "sorrowful, even to death," and telling his disciples to wait where they were, Jesus goes further and falls on his face and prays "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless not as I will, but as you will." Ignoring the prayer for a moment, what do Jesus' actions say about what he will soon be facing?

First, he becomes uncharacteristically heavy-hearted, and then he goes to pray, falling on his face. That, coupled with the prayer that he prays, gives us the impression that Jesus knew what was coming, and he knew it was going to be very hard. Matthew goes on. After he finds his disciples asleep and rebukes them, he goes to pray again. This time he prays "My Father, if this cannot pass unless I drink it, your will be done." While this is a slightly different prayer from the first, I think we can safely infer that the desire behind the prayer is the same. We can see that Jesus is very troubled by what lies ahead of him. Matthew goes on. Jesus gets up and goes back to his disciples, finds them asleep again, but instead of rebuking them again, he goes back and prays again, the same prayer. To get a deeper perspective on what Christ was feeling here, I'll take you to Chapter 22 of Luke's Gospel letter. In Luke 22:44, Luke says, "And being in an agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground." Here we see in Luke's writing that Jesus wasn't just sorrowful or troubled, he was in agony. Dictionary.com defines agony as "extreme and generally prolonged pain; intense physical or mental suffering." Here we see Jesus' state of "troubled-ness" goes a bit deeper than what Matthew describes. It is clear to see, that Jesus, at this moment, would rather not do what he came to do. This seems to contradict Hebrews 12:2, which says "...for the joy set before him [Jesus] endured the cross..." But when you take the time to think through this contradiction, these two passages fit together to give us a greater picture of Jesus suffering. The agony of the crucifixion didn't begin when Jesus was scourged and beaten, but rather as he prayed in Gathsemane. Jesus, the Son of God, was both fully God and fully man, subject to all the pains, anxieties, and gut-wrenching emotions that we are. I would argue that part of the agony of the cross was the anxiety and fear that Jesus felt as he prayed in Gathsemane; as the hour of his pain, his payment in exchange for billions and billions of eternities of Hell, was growing close. It is here where he first shed blood, and it is here that he begins to feel the foot of God start to weigh heavy on him as God prepares to crush his own Son.

This Easter, think on this. And as you think on this, celebrate and revel in the love that God has for you and lift up prayers of joyful thankfulness as you, with all this in mind, think on Romans 5:7-8, which says "For one will scarcely die for a righteous person—though perhaps for a good person one would dare even to die— but God shows his love for us in that while we were still sinners, Christ [God] died for us." While Easter is a time to mourn that the broken world we live in and the broken and sinful bodies that we inhabit necessitated such a payment for sin, it is also a time to celebrate God's sovereignty, as no joy can be greater than the joy of a sinner saved, reconciled to the God and Creator for which he was made. This Easter, embrace the words of King David and join him in Psalm 71:23 - "My lips will shout for joy, when I sing praises to you; my soul also, which you have redeemed!"

Death and Dying

Tonight, I heard some challenging words from a man named Darrel McCarthy, one of the speakers/teachers of the "Perspectives on the World Christian Movement" class (a class that would benefit ANY Christ seeking Christian). He was talking about Jesus' mandate for the nations (a.k.a. the Great Commission). He talked about reaching peoples and nations and focusing on what is at the core of all of missions: one person telling another person about Jesus. Though I could write on this for pages, somewhere in these words were the words of which I spoke before. In his exaltation and encouragement to not only go, but "tell people about Jesus as you go", he mentioned some words that I'd forgotten about. When Darrel uttered these words, I knew in my heart that I was not conforming to the Jesus of the Bible. He said (and this he quoted from someone else) "When Jesus calls a person, He bids him come and die."

I am doing a lot of "good things", a lot of Biblically sound things; I study the scriptures, I pray, I meet regularly with the Body of Christ, which is his church. But one thing I was not doing was dying. "When Jesus calls a person, He bids him come and die." This statement is profoundly powerful, not just because of what it's saying, but because of what it means; or to put it another way, because of what it implies. I can say to you, if you work your body by running and lifting waits, your body will hurt. What that statement says is because you are working your body, it will hurt. What it implies is, because you are working your body, it will hurt not only after the work is over, but all the time you are working. So the statement "When Jesus calls a person, He bids him come and die" says, because you are following Jesus, you will die. But what it implies is, because you are following Jesus, you will not only die at the end of your journey, but you will also die the entire time you are following Jesus. Now think about that and compare that to your daily walk with Jesus (if you have one). If you can't see the way in which you're dying daily in your walk with Jesus, welcome to the table. Pull up a chair and listen. I will admit freely that I don't have the answers. If I did, and still found myself in this predicament, there would something seriously wrong with my relationship to Jesus. The only thing I have to offer here is some thoughts and encouragements; not answers.

As I heard these words come out of Darrel's mouth, I thought to myself, "That is not what my faith walk looks like. How can I make it look like that?" As I said before, I don't have an answer, but a few things were planted in my mind shortly after that moment. First of all, I came to the conclusion that I wanted to have a relationship with Jesus that led me to die daily, but the reality was I didn't. I didn't because I'd never explored what it actually looked like to die daily in MY life. I'd studied Jesus life, and Paul's life, briefly Peter's life, I'd seen the conclusion of Stephen's life; I knew what it meant to die daily, I just didn't know how that dying daily would manifest itself in my life. Then, I thought, these men all were persecuted beaten and imprisoned for their faith. If I somehow managed to get myself imprisoned for my faith in a country that boasts in its citizens' freedom to religion, that would be impressive, but most likely, I would be doing something contrary to the love and teachings of Christ. I then realized that it's not death itself, whether that is a physical death, or another kind of death, but rather the act of dying that is important. All throughout Jesus' life, he was dying daily, but it was the decision to die that was so massively important. For Paul, it was not the imprisonment and beatings that gave the most strength to those around him; it was the decision to carry out the action that carried those repercussions that gave those around him the most encouragement.

So through this series of thoughts I stumbled on an important piece of my puzzle. Jesus even says it! How could I have missed it? "Whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it (Matt. 16:25)." It's not the dying, but the decision to die. Now comes the big question, and the one I have no answer for at the moment. What does a decision to die look like in my life, or, in what capacity can I seek to lose my life for Christ's sake. It is something that I will have to think and pray about, to think and pray hard about because it's not a decision that will come easy. To choose to die, to will my life away, is something that is so absolutely contrary to our nature as humans that to those who don't know Christ, it's pure insanity, and to those who do know Christ, it seems impossible. "With man, this is impossible, but with God all things are possible (Matt. 19:26)." Jesus said these words, and I believe him whole heartedly, but that doesn't make it any easier. I can truly say that, even righting this, seeing myself down the road standing at the fork in the road when the decision is to be made, to comfortably slide by, or to die to myself, to surrender my life wholly and unconditionally and lay it at the foot of the cross where my savior died for me, it makes me shiver. Will I have the faith? I want to say yes, but I truly can't answer that; I have absolutely no idea what that choice will look like, but I do know that it will come.

If this is a question that is weighing on your soul as well, you're not alone. I said at the beginning that I had no answers... I lied. I have but one. Pray. "Pray that you may not enter into temptation; the spirit indeed is willing, but the flesh is weak (Mark 14:38)." Jesus said these words to his disciples as he was preparing to die on the cross. His disciples with him while he prayed to the Father, "My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will (Matt. 26:38b)." Even for Jesus it was hard. He was sweating drops of blood. I will never know how hard it was for Him. I can't expect the decision to be any less difficult for me. All I can do is pray and lean upon the power and sovereign love of Christ and God the Father.

Difficulty aside, I leave you with the eternal and sovereign words of Jesus: "whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will find it."