THE BEAUTY OF THE CROSS

In my short experience as a follower of Jesus Christ, I've come across a lot of stumbling blocks, and I've encountered many people whose faith has been challenged or even extinguished by the same issues. One such obstacle that I seem to come across often is the issue of the cross being overly horrific. The thought that God would ordain the death of his Son in such a manner (or even at all) is simply off-putting to many, and to still more it is simply offensive. More often than not, Jesus' sacrifice on the cross is expressed as a transaction by which one Man's undeserved suffering is exchanged for a different, undeserving man's pardon. To be clear, this is what happened on the cross. But to be clearer still, the cross itself is only a small part of the story of Jesus Christ. Even the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ is only a portion of the Grand Narrative of God's divine romance.

Just like anything else, when the story of the cross is taken out of context, or only in a partial context, it often is misunderstood or not understood at all. Jesus, his life and ministry, and his horrible death is much more than a transaction by which our sins are forgiven. The life, death, and resurrection of Jesus Christ is a manifestation of a furious love that burns with more passion than a thousand suns, and that has been brilliantly ablaze since the dawn of creation. Let me begin at the beginning...

“In the beginning God created the heavens and the earth...” I feel it's important to note here that the creation story is not meant to be taken literally. It's meant to capture the essence of creation. It's a poem. That's what poems do, capture the essence of a truth.

This story begins in Genesis 1, when God, in an overflow of his own creativity, creates all that is. And then, out of an overflow of His love, He forms a creature out of the dirt and endows it with His very Spirit (Genesis 2). In the beginning, man was created in a perfect union, he with God and God with him. But after a time, something went horribly wrong and the objects of God's affection, the focus of His fiery passionate love, began to thumb their noses at Him, rejecting Him both as their God and as their lover (Genesis 3 and onward). Thus, God set in motion the most beautiful love story ever written.

For thousands of years, God patiently walked along side humanity as they ignored and offended Him. Like a husband bound by a sacred vow to his wife, He faithfully never left her side, keeping watch over her and meeting her every need, even in the face of continuous rejection. For thousands of years, he attempted to woo her back to Him, and for thousands of years, she rejected Him again and again and again (Exodus - Esther). Then, in an act of perfect and desperate love, God himself laid down his life in order to bring His beloved back into a perfect communion with Him (Matthew 1 – John 21).

While Jesus was crushed by the Father, the Father, being one with the Son in the trinity, did it with expectant joy, knowing that with His sacrifice, he would finally win back his bride that he had known at the beginning in the Garden, inseparably joining the two together as one, His Spirit in ours and our spirit in His. Perfect love reunited. ... The only catch is that the bride has to choose to take the gift that the Bridegroom joyfully purchased for her.

It is only the divine power of the burning passion of God's heart that can take history's most potent and brutal instrument of torture and death and transform it into the most astounding and breathtaking instrument of Love. God loves you with more passion and burning desire than you can even begin to imagine. God literally gave up His life to win your heart.

I said at the beginning that the cross, when viewed as a cold transaction is often offensive. likewise, when a proper perspective is gained on what the cross really is, the result is equally and beautifully disturbing. If you understand and comprehend the scope of what you've just read, you will likely find yourself standing face to face with Jesus Christ, Almighty God, Creator of the Universe, and as you meet his gaze, He will gently whisper into your heart “your move”.

Philippians 4:6-7

Many people have Bible verses that they've committed to memory, and that they allow to guide their life. Large decisions and life changing junctures are often marked by a reflection on these passages. These are most often referred to as life verses. I would venture to guess that everyone that reads Scripture with any kind of consistency has adopted a life verse, even if they are unaware of it. The mark of a life verse is that in every course-altering situation one finds themself in, before every significant choice one faces, the same verse or passage of scripture comes to mind. Sometimes we find a life verse. Sometimes we come across a verse or passage that we find great wisdom or comfort in, and we commit it to memory and adopt it as a guide for living. Other times, our life verses may find us. We might read a passage in passing and not think anything of it, but for whatever reason, the Holy Spirit brings it back to us again and again. In either case, when a life verse has been identified, it's important to spend some time meditating on it. If this verse or passage is to serve as a guide, than to understand what it says, and more than that, what it means is vitally important.

I fall into the latter camp, having had a life verse find me. There was a time in college when I was attempting to memorize large numbers of verses and passages from the Bible using a program developed by the Navigators called the Topical Memory System or TMS. What the TMS does is it pulls together scriptures from throughout the Bible about a given topic and lists them all together in order that one can easily lookup and memorize them. By the end, if the program is completed, thousands of verses or passages will be committed to memory. That's if the program is completed. I, on the other hand, was somewhat lacking in resolve and commitment, and only lasted to about 30 or 40, which, at this point, has dropped down to about 15 or so that I can pull up from memory alone. Included in those 30 some passages was a verse from the apostle Paul, as he writes to the church in Philippi. Philippians, chapter four verses six and seven reads

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God, and the peace of God, which surpasses all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.” - Philippians 4:6-7

As I continued on, looking at and memorizing more passages of Scripture, I kept coming back to this one, not because I found some profound sense of solace or peace from it, but because it would just pop into my mind. Whenever I would feel stressed about anything, the Holy Spirit would bring Philippians 4:6-7 to my mind. Again and again this verse would pop into my head. This was the case all throughout college and into life post-college. It's been a year or so since I've recognized this verse as a life verse, and so now, I'm going to dive into it, meditate over it, and try and draw out both what it says, and what it means so that I and whoever else wants to come along can glean from this passage some of the wisdom it has to offer.

To begin with, I think it's important to highlight what this passage is not saying. It's easy to see a passage like this one with the words “...the peace of God … will guard your hearts and minds...” and think “Great! All I have to do is pray for the crap in my life and it all will go away!”. The reason this is easy, at least for us in the United States, is because we've built a society that is largely hedonistic. Comfort, ease, pleasure all equate to “good” and discomfort, difficulty, pain all equate to “bad”. When we hear the word “peace”, we associate it with “good”, which is a correct response. The problem comes when we think of all the things we've associated with “good” coupled with the compartmentalized separation between those things and the things we've associated with “bad”.

In the Kingdom of God, a God-centered paradigm, the things that fall under both good and bad in our worldly paradigm often migrate from one side to the other. For instance, pleasure can be good, but there are times when it may migrate over to bad. In the Kingdom paradigm, pain still sits on the side of bad, but there are times when it will migrate over to the side of good. So on and so forth (we'll explore this more fully in a moment). It is with this shifted paradigm that we can see what it is that this verse is telling us.

Read the verse quoted above (Philippians 4:6-7) again. This verse is telling us to take action in two specific ways. First, Paul tells us “Do not be anxious about anything...”. What does this mean? What does it mean to be anxious? There are two definition for this word that are consistent with the original greek, the first being a mental distress or uneasiness because of fear of danger or misfortune, and the other being to seek to promote one's interests, whether to provide or care for others or for one's self. Whether it's worrying about circumstances or worrying about the things we or others need, Paul says don't do it. Don't worry about it.

Anyone who's ever been living and breathing knows that this is very easy to say, but very, very difficult to do. That's why Paul doesn't stop there. He goes on to give us a second action point. He says don't worry about it, “but in everything, by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God”. Instead of being anxious about our life and the things we need to live it, Paul tells us to ask God for it. In Matthew 6:8, Jesus says “your Father knows what you need before you ask him.” For our lives and the stuff we need to live it, we just need to come before God in prayer and supplication. Supplication is just a big word that means asking God for things. Don't worry about it, but rather, ask God for it.

The only way in which you and I can truly be free from worry about anything is if we have a calm or a peace about whatever it is that's causing the anxiety. That's what Paul tells us we will get when we do this, but there's something he says in between prayer and supplication and peace of God that's very important but easy to overlook. It's the small phrase “...with thanksgiving...”. Again we come to the issue of paradigms. This tiny phrase is easy to overlook because we think about anxiety and view it from our worldly paradigm, giving thanks for it is the last thing we think to do. Worry, difficulty, pain, these are all bad things from our point of view, why would we give thanks for them? But in the Kingdom paradigm they migrate to the other side, the good side. From this point of view, these things are a gift. To show that this is so, we'll need to look at a few other passages of Scripture. In Paul's letter to the Romans, he writes

“Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. 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 5:1-5

Later, Peter would speak to the Christians living under the rule of Emperor Nero, known for his hatred for and sadistic tendencies toward Christians, saying

“In this [your inheritance from God] you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ. … Beloved, do not be surprised at the fiery trial when it comes upon you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice insofar as you share Christ’s sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed.” -1 Peter 1:6-7, 1 Peter 4:12-13

Around the same time as Peter was writing, James wrote to the twelve tribes of Israel that were now scattered around the region, speaking to the same issue. He says

“Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness. And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing.” -James 1:2-4

All three of these apostolic writers share the same conviction that trials – pain, difficulty, suffering – are not things to curse God for, but rather to thank Him for. In all three passages, the word suffering has been equated with the words “rejoice” or “joy”. Why? Both Paul and James say that through suffering, our character is shaped into the likeness of Christ's. Peter tells us that perseverance in our times of trial and suffering will act as an indicator, letting us know that our faith is genuine and not just a construct of our own minds. Both of these are to be desired, both are good. When we look at our hardships, our pain, our difficulties through this lens, we begin to view these times of suffering as a gift.

Go back up and read the passage form Philippians again, then think about what we've just discovered about suffering. When we put this verse and the reality about suffering together, we can see that Philippians 4:6-7 is more than just a way of coping with our difficulties, more than just a shelter from the pain of life in a fallen world, but it's a call to radically transform our lives by aligning our paradigm with that of the Kingdom of God. Rather than viewing undesirable circumstances as something to wait out or get through, Paul is calling us to embrace our suffering, experience our pain, live in our difficulties, not simply weather them. When we do this, our character begins to resemble that of Christ's.

It then becomes clear that the peace of God that Paul speaks of in verse seven is not simply a dulling of our anxieties or a comfort to be had amidst our pain. The peace of God that Paul talks about comes from a supernatural conversion in which our pain is transformed into rejoicing, our suffering is turned to laughter, and our difficulties become our joy. Our anxiety is not just relieved, it's radically changed and flipped upside down by the love and redemptive power of Christ. When this happens, the peace and calm both of heart and mind that we find in Christ will characterize our life as anxiety ceases to be a part of it. When we live out of a Kingdom paradigm, when we put on the character of Christ, it becomes a defensive barrier that's set up all around us, and whenever difficulties, pain or suffering come into contact with it, they're immediately transformed into rejoicing, into a joy that surpasses all understanding.

This passage has shaped, and is continuing to shape my life. But this passage, by itself, can't give the peace of which it speaks. This passage simply points the way to a larger truth, that the peace of God is free for the taking in and through the sacrifice and suffering of Jesus Christ. If you don't know Jesus, if right now you can't say that you have a relationship with Him, it is my prayer that He would break into your life, and that you would welcome him with open arms. May you experience the unshakable peace of God that is found in Christ Jesus, and may you experience what it means to truly be free, to live in the Kingdom of God right here, right now.

Remember

Today, I recieved a letter in the mail with no return address. It was in a small envelope, like a thank you card sized little thing. The address was hand written, but I didn't recognize the handwriting... at least not at first. Being curious, I opened the letter and slid out a card with a yellow pink and green floral pattern on it. It looked like a thank you card, so I quick played back the past few weeks to try and recall what, if anything, I had done that warrented a thank you note. I came up blank. So I opened it and began reading. The salutation struck me as a bit odd, and then I immediately knew what this little note was. It read as follows:

God,

I love you. I love you bcause you loved me, and continue to love with all you are. God, I want with all that I am to love you with all that I have, with all of my heart, soul, mind, and strength.

I will do this, but this isn't something I can do alone. I am coming back, and together, our love for each other will make something beautiful.

This card was addressed to me, but it was a letter to God. The handwriting on the envelope was my own. I had written this in church one morning as an excercise the speaker that Sunday had us do. He told us to write a love letter to God (the message was about our love relationship with God); to write down what we were feeling for God right then, right there, and to address it to ourselves and seal the envelope. This was between us and God. No one else. So I did.

I had been living apart from God for a spell (at least it felt like I was apart from God, I know He was right here with me the whole time), and that morning's message had rekindled a deep desire to fall back in love (or maybe really fall in love for the first time) with the God that I used to lean on and listen to. The Spirit that morning awoke something in me that had been dormant for a while. It was like my heart began beating again, or I felt the sun on my skin after a long cold night. I left church that morning feeling great. I spent the rest of the day communing with friends that I love deeply, and I went to bed, praying to God for the first time in perhaps a year.

I woke up the next morning and went to work. I still felt the warmth that I'd felt the morning before, but it was slightly duller. Every subsiquent day it grew duller and duller, until life became "normal" again. I still felt the connection with God that was made (or re-made) that morning, but the warm fuzzies were all gone, only a memory. As time went on, the memory of the warm fuzzies faded and retreated to that place all lost memories live, and all I had was the connection with God (which is a good thing), and that eventually began to feel "normal".

Once something begins to feel normal, we begin to take it for granted. This is precisely why over and over and over and over in scripture God tells his children REMEMBER what I've done. Remember how I delivered you from Egypt. Remember how I delivered you out of slavery, misery, oppression, and brought you into the promised land. Remember.

But, as I had, the Israelites forgot. The warm fuzzies faded into a distant memory, and the memory faded into obscurity, and eventually disappeared, and their relationship with God became stale and forced. Nothing more than ceremony and ritual. Nothing but religion.

This note that I got in the mail was like a tap on the shoulder from God (from me... that's wierd), like he was gently telling me "Remember what I've done for you. Remember how it used to be and how my son gave His all (literally) to lift you up out of it. Remember how good it is when we're together. Remember." This brought tears to my eyes because I had forgotten something so incredibly precious to me. And I remembered what Christ had done for me, and how grateful I am for it. How much I love Him for it. It brought tears to my eyes because I know that I will forget again, and my God deserves so much more than that. So here's another letter to God, this one I'm not mailing, but praying:

God,

I am so thankful that you loved us enough to come among us, forsaking your divinity and becoming like us, so that you could pay our debt. Thank you for the amazing, outrageous, scandalous grace that you've given us in Jesus Christ. Thank you that you love me so much that there's nothing I can do that will change it. God, I love you, beyond what I can put into words. Help me to remember.

Do This in Remembrance of Me

The drink offering was a companion offering to the Grain (and Burnt) offering. This was as if they were offering a meal to God. In a meal, the drink, the beverage that is served with the meal, is intended to aid in consumption and digestion. We drink while we eat to "grease the gears" so to speak, but it's the food that we're interested in because it's the food that gives us the most sustenance, the most nutrients.

Jesus talks about these offerings with his disciples in the upper room. He likens his body to the bread, or grain offering, and his blood to a drink offering. Now this is odd, considering that we think of His blood as the central piece of the Christian story, and He compares it to an adjunct offering.

What does this mean? Could it be that the Blood he shed isn't what he wants us to focus on? It's His body that he compares to the grain offering. What if that's what he wants us to see? What if it's not about the blood, not about the salvation (though our salvation is vital to what he calls us to do), but the breaking of his body that is the point?

What if the Blood of our Salvation is just meant to "grease the gears"? But grease the gears to do what? What does Jesus say in the upper room that night? He tells his disciples that the bread represents his body, broken for them, and the wine represents His blood, poured out for them (grain offering and its drink offering), and then he gives a command. "Do this in remembrance of me." What are we to do? He just dipped some bread into some wine... is that what he means? Perhaps... That's what he just did, but what was he just talking about? He was talking about pouring himself out, breaking himself open for others.

Jesus was notorious for talking about several things at once, surface level things and their deeper hidden-meaning kind of counterparts. Is there anything in this story that should make us think this moment in the upper room is any different? What is it that Jesus is saying? Of course, he's telling us to observe the ceremony that they shared in the upper room, but there's so much more just underneath the surface. As he's talking about breaking himself open and pouring himself out, he tells us to "Do this in remembrance of me". He's telling us that we are to be the bread and the wine, that we are the Eucharist. We are to be the grain offering and drink offering for others. We are to be Jesus to those around us.

To take a page from Rob Bell, "Over and over God speaks of the widow, the orphan, and the refugee. This is how you remember God: you bless those who need it the most in the same way that God blessed you when you needed it most."

Just like God came alongside you when you were at your worst and lifted you up, so to you are to come alongside others when they are at their worst. When you see others at the point of desperation and without hope, you are to go to them and stand beside them, letting them know that they are not alone, that they are loved, just like God came to you when you were in that exact same place.

We don't remember God with a piece of bread and a sip of wine. We remember God with our entire lives.

No Big Deal(s)

Mother Teresa once said "We can do no great things, just small things with great love. It is not how much you do, but how much love you put into doing it." As I read this, I understand it completely because this was one of the main themes of Jesus' ministry when He was in the world, but at the some time this concept seems to me completely foreign. The culture in which we live values production, it values efficiency, it values quantity. In a culture like that, love tends to take a back seat and numbers, how much we do, how much we make, how many we reach, become the driving force behind much of what we do. Especially, I would argue, in the one place in which we would do well not to hold this mentality, the Church.

Before I begin, I need to say that This is a difficult subject for me to write on, mainly because it is so foreign to me, and because of that, I'm not real sure what a wholly love-driven culture, or even a love-driven church would look like. Despite this shortfall, I'm going to do my best and posit what thoughts I do have on the subject (most of which come from the book The Irresistible Revolution written by Shane Claiborne).

Immediately as I read the above quote, the passage in the Gospel of John comes to mind where Jesus says "Truly, Truly I say to you, whoever believes in me will also do the works that I do; and greater works than these will he do" (John 14:12). It seams as though Jesus is saying just the opposite of Mother Teresa. But because the Kingdom of God is an upside down kingdom (a nearly complete inverse of the kingdoms of the world), we must take a closer look at this statement of Jesus.

Let's begin by looking at a few of the things that Jesus did, things that could be viewed as great. In Mark 5:22-23,35-42, Jesus hears the plea of Jairus, a leader of the synagogue, to come and heal his daughter. By the time Jesus gets to his daughter, she has apparently died. But Jesus, being Jesus, goes to her anyway and raises her from the dead. Amazing! You might have noticed that in the scripture reference there is a significant gap (11 verses missing). That's because right in the middle of going to heal Jairus' daughter, he is interrupted by a woman who had been suffering for 12 years. She had a discharge of blood it says in Mark. According to Jewish law, that basically means she was isolated, cast out of the city, out of community with other Jews, and not allowed in any part of the temple, effectively separating her from God. With just a touch of Jesus' clothing, she was made well. Stopping, Jesus turns and affirms the woman's faith, all the while Jairus daughter is busy dying. Wow! Later, in Mark 8, Jesus is teaching and ministering to a great multitude of people and it's getting late. Jesus tells His disciples to feed them. Feeding 4,000 people itself is no simple task (a great feat in itself). But Jesus does it with only five loaves of bread and two fish. That's pretty great if you ask me. Then, in Mark 10, as Jesus is leaving Jericho, he stops and heals a blind man (that's no small feat either!). Then, to take the cake, in John 11, Jesus' good friend Lazarus dies, and after FOUR DAYS of being buried, he resurrects Lazarus, bringing him back from the dead! If that's not great, I don't know what is!

So these few things that Jesus does are pretty great, pretty spectacular things. And He says we will do even greater things than these!? What's up Momma T? What do you mean "We can do no great things"?

Mother Teresa understood something very important about the nature of the work Jesus called us to, and about the Kingdom of God. The Kingdom of God, as I said earlier, is an upside down kingdom. She understood this, but more importantly, Jesus LIVED this. So if we are to begin to understand what Jesus is saying, we need to begin looking at his life and teaching not with the understanding we have of this world or the eyes we've learned to look through from this life, but with the Kingdom eyes that Jesus had, and that we will have once we understand what Jesus is up to. This is the problem that the disciples ran into time and time again, and something that continually frustrated Jesus.

Let's take another look at those same miracles, but through the lens of the Kingdom of God (as best we can). In Mark 5, it says that Jesus was with a great crowd when Jairus came to him and begged him to come heal his daughter. Jesus left this great crowd of people that he was no doubt teaching and ministering to, to go help out one man. Jairus was at the point of desperation to come and beg Jesus, the man the priests and Pharisees eventually killed, to come help his sick daughter. Jesus didn't leave the many to help the one just to show off his God powers, to be a spectacle. No, Jesus did this because he felt Jairus' desperation and in helping him, Jesus loved him. No other reason was necessary. Out of love Jesus went to Jairus daughter. Then, on the way, His love quest was interrupted by another person who was at the point of desperation. In turning to affirm the bleeding woman's faith, instead of condemning her for fouling all the people around her, Jesus loved her. There's no greater reason for his display of power. Love. That's it. So much love, in fact, that he delayed his mission for another desperate soul, allowing Jairus' daughter to slip from life into death. It's love. All of it. Then Jesus feeds 4,000 people. This one is a bit easier to see with Kingdom eyes because Jesus states his reasoning plainly. he says "I have compassion on the crowd, because they have been with me now for three days and have nothing to eat." Jesus doesn't multiply the loaves and fish for a show of magnificence, He does it because the people are hungry. He fed them. That's it. When he was leaving Jericho, a blind beggar named Bartimeaus heard that it was Jesus that was passing by, which gave him a sliver of hope, so he began calling out "have mercy on me!" Jesus, hearing this, even among people rebuking Bartimeaus, called him over. Instead of immediately healing his eyes, he asked him, "What do you want me to do for you?". Jesus didn't just do what was sensational or spectacular, he was concerned about what this man wanted. And then, upon Bartimeaus expressing his desire to see again, Jesus restored his sight. Jesus wasn't interested in showing off. He was interested in loving Bartimeaus by doing what he asked. If he had wanted a pet duck, Jesus would have went and found a duck. His answer to Jesus' question didn't matter, Jesus would have done whatever he said because He loved him. Again, Love. That's it. And then there's Lazarus. Oh man! If this isn't love, I don't know what is! This whole story takes 44 verses to unfold. Basically, it begins with Jesus hearing that a close family friend (close enough to be a family member) is sick and at the point of death. He wraps up what he is doing and goes back to Lazarus' town, where the people there were trying to kill him, to help his friend. As he's leaving, he basically tells his disciples that Lazarus has died and he's going to raise him up again. When He gets there, He finds that Lazarus had been entombed for four days, and his family was grieving his death. He tells Lazarus' sister that he will live again, and asks to be taken to his tomb. Up to this point, Jesus has been able to hold his grief in, but when he sees the tomb, he breaks down. The shortest verse in the Bible: John 11:35 "Jesus Wept." he feels the grief of those around him piled on top of his own. He then proceeds to raise Lazarus and call him out of the tomb. This miracle undoubtedly showed many things about Jesus, such as demonstrate his authority over death and, as he says in 11:4, glorifies the son of God, but the main reason he did it I would argue is because he loved deeply both Lazarus and his family. Love. That's it.

Now that we've looked a bit closer at these miracles to discover a common underlying reason for them all, lets take a couple steps back and look at the bigger picture just to drive the point home. In all these miracles, Jesus does something to or with these people to help or improve their life right where they were, right when they were. But that's not the point. What he did is not as important as why he did it. Look at it in a long term perspective, an eternal perspective (the Kingdom perspective). He healed Jairus daughter and the woman's sickness. It's almost certain that in the course of their lives they got sick again. He fed the crowd that was with him; they got hungry again. He restored the sight of Bartimeaus. It's a sensible assumption that as he aged, his sight once again began to give out. He resurrected Lazarus from the dead (hardly an insignificant act); he died again. All the things He did were ultimately temporary and didn't last. Only one thing stayed with each of these people Jesus helped: the love of Christ. He loved them. Even when sickness and hunger return, when sight fails, when death once again approaches, the love that Jesus showed is still there, is still felt. THIS is what Mother Teresa understood.

So in a culture that worships at the alter of productivity and efficiency, what are we to do with this? How do we work to show the upside down kingdom of Love within a culture that only understands numbers? We ignore the numbers. For us, the numbers should mean very little. Whether we help one person or one thousand people, if we do not make the love of Christ manifest to them, it means nothing. Jesus understood this very well. There was a time when Jesus' disciples came to get him because all the people in the village had brought their sick out to be healed, and he told his disciples that that they were moving on to the next city. Even though there were still people there that hadn't been healed, his Love was already there. Healing the sick, as we discovered, is a temporary thing. There were cities where Jesus had not yet been that did not yet know the love of Christ.

Just like the mustard plant (which was considered a weed) just needs one tiny seed to spread throughout the entire garden, so too love just needs one small foothold to spread throughout a community... throughout the world.

So we indeed can do no great things. The things that appear great in this world, ultimately have little significance. What has very great significance is the small things that we do to convey and spread the love of Christ. To someone who needs a friend, stopping by to chat is far greater than a new car. To someone in desperate need of a car, helping them get a car will be far greater than stopping by to chat. Numbers don't matter. It's the love behind what we do that makes all the difference, in this world and the next.

"We can do no great thing, only small things with great love. It's not how much you do, but how much love you put into doing it."

A Sculpted Heart

After saying yet one more good-bye to a treasured friend moving into a new season of life and out of my own, I find myself thinking again on the significance of community and what it does for a person. I can't say that good-byes are fun, neither can I say they are easy, but one thing that I am certain of is that they leave a mark.

After this particular good-bye, I feel like I've been able to put a finger on something that I've felt in every good-bye but haven't been able to articulate. And it's this: No matter who the friend, how close I become to them, or how deep a love I have for them, I inevitably give them a piece of my heart and I get a piece of theirs. This is why a good-bye is such a hard thing. There is a piece of my heart in this person, and they are leaving with it; taking a piece of me that I'll not get back.

At first thought of this, I was startled to find that I am loosing bits of my heart here and there. I thought that I should be saving those pieces or something, saving them for God, or my future wife, or kids, or something big like that. But then I realized something important. With every piece that's taken from me, I become someone a bit different each time. With every chip, my heart takes on a new shape. This, in turn, slowly sculpts me into the person who I will be, and has thus far made me the person I am today.

Relationships, loves, friendships, crushes, all of these social connections are God's tools that He uses to sculpt us into the person whom we will become. Michelangelo's David wasn't poured into a mold, it was carved out of a solid piece of marble. If little pieces (and very big pieces) had not been chipped away, it would still remain just a rock. But because it lost bits of itself, bits of what it once was, it is now a timeless masterpiece.

My heart is much the same. If I refuse to let go of pieces to those who would take them, I will remain the same person who I am today, not changing, not growing, not being refined into something more, but just living, just being. By allowing myself to feel the pain and grief of every good-bye, the sorrow of watching a piece of myself leave with someone I love, I allow my heart to be sculpted into something that will be unique and all the more beautiful with every loss.

Good-byes are hard, and they are sad, and they are most definitely painful...

But they are good.

Untitled Reflection #26

I find myself at the end of a calm summer in a college town, facing the imminent return of the students and the subsequent bustle that accompanies them. In my little corner of Manhattan, home to Kansas State University, I'm watching this transformation take place. As the coffee houses fill up again and the roads once more become a bit more dangerous, I feel my mind fill with anticipation. In my spirit I feel a reinvigoration, and in my heart an excitement grows. But why?

I suppose it could be the prospect of facing the unknown. The tension of not knowing who I will meet if I take a stroll across town, mingling with the possibility of getting to know new and interesting people. It could be... But I don't think that's it. I've been thinking about this, and I think I've discovered where this feeling welling up inside me is coming from. Simply put, it's life. It's the life that is beginning to happen around me.

As students come back into Manhattan and repopulate the houses and apartment complexes that have been sitting empty all summer in a calm silence, they bring with them an esprit air, an atmosphere of intelligence and independence, and occasionally one of hilarious and sometimes hazardous idiocy. There comes with returning students an excitement that seems to hang in the air.

The new freshmen coming to college for the first time leaving their parents behind and beginning a new chapter that will preface the story of their lives in the "real world". The returning student meeting friends after a summer apart. The fraternities and their inhabitants filling the air with the smell of burning charcoal, seared meat, beer, and the occasional obscenity, and their female counterparts preparing to judge and indoctrinate brand new sorority sisters into the culture of consumer fashion. And, of course, the lawn parties dotting the lawns of every street, letting loose the sounds of clanking washers and loud music while brandishing signs that say things like "You honk, We drink". All these things, these people just doing what they will, combines to form the strange and unique experience that is life in a college town. Life beginning to happen all around me creates a sort of energy that reaches into my being and plucks a string that resonates with the life that is simultaneously happening within me.

I'm part of this dance. I'm the non-student, watching all this happen from the outside with a smile, remembering that I was once on the inside of it all. I was once the new freshman, I was once the dorm-dweller rushing through the madness of move-in day, I was once a contributor to the chaotic ballet that is college life. I've put in my time and I've had my fun. I'm now content watching it from the outside while composing my own new and unique part of this never ending dance called life.

Moving forward, Loving Back

Fractured and broken souls
Finding comfort, finding reprieve
In the jagged cracks and holes
Of the broken souls of others.

Together we come, and together grow
We become one, as though we are now
Together, broken... but together whole.
Our broken pieces rest in the light.

We grow close, we become one.
And then, as it does, life moves on.
We now come to a fork in our road.
Your ways not mine, our way is gone.

Though time has come for our ways to part
souls once connected will always find love.
A distance between and a world away,
Our bond is solid, tethered heart to heart.

The time has come for each to ask
Our paths diverge... where to now?
We find comfort in the broken souls,
Of each, our broken past.

TRUST

As I sit in the black cold that surrounds me,
I hear a voice calling, faint and dull out of the darkness.
"Do you trust me?"
I continue to sit, paying no mind to the call.
The black gets deeper and the cold is growing.
I hear again. "Do you trust me?"

"Who are you?" I ask, to which there is no reply
So I sit, nowhere to go, nothing to see, nothing to say
nothing to feel but the cold that's killing me.
"Do you trust me?" once again calls from the void.
"Who are you?" I ask again, to which there is no reply
"Get up and walk toward me" the voice calls.

It's dark and cold, I can't see anything.
I don't even know where I am.
Who knows what will happen should I move.
"I can't see what's in front of me." I say to the voice.
"Do you trust me?" the voice calls again.

My warmth is waning as the cold begins to seep into my being.
The darkness begins to suffocate me as I ponder the voice.
If I move, there's no telling what will happen to me.
But if I stay here, I will be consumed by the darkness.
I stand up.

My heart races as I struggle against the decision before me.
If I move, there's a chance I could perish.
If I stay here, I will live until the darkness consumes me.
In my mind I'm flying as I hold my breath.
I make the decision and take a step.

I'm still alive.
The frigid darkness is still engulfing me.
"Come toward me" the voice calls out.
"Who are you?" I ask again, this time finding a reply.
"I... am"

"You are what?" I ask.
"Do you trust me?" the voice asks again.
The darkness surrounding me is still growing colder and deeper.
"I don't know." I say, standing, shivering in the dark.
"Come toward me" the voice says again.

My heart begins to beat as I take another step.
I move forward as my foot finds more solid ground.
I take another step, and another, and another.
"Do you trust me?" the voice calls out again.
"I don't know" I say again.

One foot after another, I walk toward the voice.
The darkness is becoming unbearable.
The cold is sucking all the warmth out of me.
I can't breathe.
Out of desperation I begin to run.

"Do you trust me?" the voice is louder this time.
My heart is pounding as I struggle for breath.
I can feel my life beginning to drain.
I can't run fast enough to escape the darkness.
My body is beginning to go numb.

I'm running as fast and hard as I can.
I use the last of my strength as my legs buckle and I fall to the ground.
I'm gasping for air, but there is none.
"Do you trust me?" the voice calls again, louder than before.
With my last breath I scream, "Yes!"

My lungs are filled with air as I heave.
I can breathe!
"Who are you?" I shout, panting with deep heavy breaths.
"Look, and see" the voice says.
I lift my head and look toward the voice.

In the darkness I can scarcely make out a faint glow.
"Come toward me" the voice says again.
I rise to my feet, and with the hope of light I begin to run.
My breathing now comes easily as I run.
The cold still surrounds me, but light is ahead of me.

I run faster and faster.
I get closer to the light, the cold begins to subside.
I can feel a warmth emanating from the light.
"Do you trust me?"
"Yes! Yes!" I shout as I run

I am close, I can make out a figure.
As I come into the light, I see my God, whom I had forgotten long ago.
"Come to me" He says, this time unmuffled and clear.
I run into his arms, into his firm embrace
"I'm sorry" I cry, weeping into his shoulder.

This is Beauty

A single note drifts through the cool night air

It resinates wih calm and soothing bravdado as it caresses my ear

As my mind swoons underneath it's touch, I embrace the sensation

I choose to loose myself in the air of the moment as my soul is liberated

This is beauty

Governing Beauty

Today as I was listening to the 44th presidential inauguration, I was struck by the beauty of the democratic system that is the United States Government. The beauty that I speak of manifests itself in its ability to change hands in an eloquent and graceful dance that is the presidential inauguration. This was beautifully illustrated in today's events.

Before I unveil this illustration, let me first draw a backdrop to frame it, for just as a color by itself is just a color, however beautiful it may be, becomes a thing to be valued only when it is put into the context of a painting. All around the world there are as many different forms of government as there are countries for them to govern. A large majority of these governments do not handle transfer of power gracefully. There are precious few that have learned to make it work, but for the rest, a transfer of power is generally accompanied by a military or political coup, a civil war, or a conflict of some flavor or another, major or minor. That being said, let me present the beauty that is the United States Government.

At every presidential inauguration, the president takes the oath of office at exactly 12:00 noon because that is when the prior president's term ends and the president-elect's term begins; that's when the executive power is legally transferred. At the 2009 inauguration, in between the vice presidential oath of office (taken by former senator Joseph Biden) and the presidential oath of office (taken by the former senator and president-elect Barrack Obama), there was to be an arrangement played composed by John Williams especially for this occasion called "Air and Simple Gifts" . Playing this piece was cellist Yo Yo Ma, violinist Itzhak Perlman, clarinetist Anthony McGill, and pianist Gabriella Montero.

As it turns out, the ceremony was slightly behind schedule. Obama wouldn't be sworn in until after the transfer of power had already taken place. However, that slight lag in the schedule allowed for a most beautiful display of the grace and elegance of the United States democratic process.

The quartet began to play. The arrangement by John Williams was a beautiful piece. It began with a slow prolonged violin solo, somewhat somber in tone reflecting the troubled nature of the times. Then Ma came in with the cello and it lightened a bit but still very beautifully captured the air of the time as it was a mix of minor and major strains. Then McGill came in with a light and melodic allusion to "Simple Gifts". The musicians then began playing a variation of "Simple Gifts" as they continued in a cheery yet pensive tone. The piece ended with a confindent set of prolonged chords, capped by a single bassy note held by Ma. Because the ceremony was slightly behind schedule, the musicians were still playing when the clock clicked over to 12:00 noon. In fact they were still in the middle of the piece.

Think about that for moment. That is absolutely beautiful! If you saw the inauguration, you may have felt it yourself. In a world where transfer of power within governments is often accompanied with conflict and often violence, on January 20th, 2009 in the United States of America, the transfer of power occurred to a chorus of inspiring strains of music. While countries around the world war with themselves and plot and plan against their own in order to usher in a new government, we, the United States, do it with beautiful melodies. How absolutely breathtaking is that!

At the end of President Obama's inaugural address, he concluded with the words, "God bless the United States of America." God has blessed the United States of America. His hand has been on us for quite some time. Even though we take the blessings He gives and misuse them, squander them, and even sometimes ignore them completely, He continues to shine His divine light on us. We are a beacon of light in a world so full of darkness. Testimony to this is the fact that our own government can change hands to such a beautiful and eloquent display.

We asked God to bless America. He answered. Our move.

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!"