Category: meditations

NPR has an ongoing series entitled “This I believe…” where people write some reflections. I decided to jot down some thoughts this morning.

This I believe:

I believe that life – each day – is a gift. I believe none of us is guaranteed a tomorrow, and each sunrise we see is the most beautiful sunrise we have ever seen, until the next, and the next, and the next. I think of sunsets I’ve missed and mourn the loss of a moment that will never return.

I believe in the sanctity of life. I believe the term applies to all life, to the greatest and the least, to the rich and the poor. I believe the lives of starving children I sat with in Kenya are as valuable and important as the lives of my best friends. I believe when the bell tolls, it tolls for us all.

I believe in Justice – not an abstract conceptual notion of a legal code or repayment for deeds, but a real equality of all people – a world where each person is valued and respected not only for who they are, but who they may become. I believe treating each person equally requires more than changing laws, but changing hearts.

I believe in love. I believe true love is deeply rooted in sacrifice – not an ephemeral feeling of attraction. I believe it is simultaneously the most painful and most rewarding choice in life. I believe both the pain and reward of love are essential, and we would not cherish the benefits of love so strongly had we never known its pain.

I believe in struggle. I believe there is no joy in the easy life, and nothing worth doing is easy. I believe our lives consist of a series of journeys from one wilderness to the next. I believe we must learn to cherish the desert as much as the oasis. I believe our struggles define who we are as people, and that we are the sum of all we have overcome.

I believe in purpose. I believe we each have a reason to live, a reason to exist. I believe the greatest tragedy of life is when people forget their purpose and turn to lives of quiet desperation.

I believe in a better world. I believe a better future begins in the hands of every person recognizing the power they have to fashion and shape the world around them. I believe together we can make a difference not only in the future, but in the present.

This I believe: belief makes a difference. I believe our beliefs weave humanity together into a beautiful tapestry of many perspectives, many colors – each an important thread in the story of life.

A lot of times we want God to be fair.

To give us a better house,
a nicer car,
a job that lets us be home more.

Really just to give us a break,
to help us out for all the times we’ve sacrificed.

Then I think of what I deserve.

Hell.

A life without
peace,
joy,
comfort,
completion.

I’m glad God’s not fair.

ahh yes, the fairness complex. we all grew up with parents who told us that life wasn’t fair, but why do we somehow think that our Christian life should be?

of course, when we mean fair, we really mean that we should get what we want, which generally doesn’t involve fairness, but us getting the better end of the deal. we play this game all the time, and the funny thing is that some people try to play it with God – as though God should repay them for all the church services they’ve sat through… (and considering some of the services i’ve sat through, i can see how one might be entitled to think that compensation was in order…)

but the reality is that paul, quoting quoting God in the book of job, is right on… “who has ever given to the God, that God should repay him?”

the funny thing is that God is ultimately very fair. we don’t like to think that God can reward anyone as he sees fit. somehow we think that God is bound by our rules and ideas of what he should do, rather than by his own limitless power and grace.

the humbling thought, is that before God, we all deserve one thing: death. we are by nature objects of wrath.

no, God is being very unfair to us. by his Grace, we will not get what we deserve.

and praise God for that.

You know, we talk a lot about Peter
and how he fell time and time again.

How he sank while he was on the water,
and denied Jesus three times.

Bit I think God sees it different.

I think he sees Peter as the one out of the boat.

The one who followed him when others deserted.

And the one who jumped out and swam to shore
because he couldn’t wait to be with Jesus.

And when God sees us, sitting in the boat,
laughing at Peter,

I rejoice that he accepts us in our weakness,

and in his God-ness calls us to walk on water.

somehow peter always gets the bad rap. he’s the guy who screwed up over and over again. for some reason i’d had enough when i wrote this, and wondered what Christ thought of him.

i didn’t see any of the other 11 guys getting out of the boat. maybe they were more intelligent and realized that people sink in water, especially stormy water.

part of the beauty of peter is that he’s never afraid to do something. even though he looks dumb fairly often, his faith is there. he’s never afraid to stand up for Jesus, and as i picture Christ, i see him smiling at peter.

i think we need to be more like peter. all too often, we’re afraid of looking like fools. it reminds me of a west wing clip where C.J. is talking to Bartlet and she says this:

Sir, I think you should do the classroom either way. We have at our disposal a captive audience of school children. Some of them don’t go to the blackboard or raise their hands because they think they’re going to be wrong. I think you should say to these kids, ‘You think you get it wrong sometimes, you should come down here and see how the big boys do it.’ I think you should tell them that you haven’t given up hope, and that it may turn up, but in the mean time you want NASA to put its best people in a room and you want them to start building Galileo Six. Some of them will laugh and some of them won’t care, but for some, they might honestly see that it’s about going to the blackboard and raising your hand. And that’s the broader theme.

may we be people who go to the blackboard and raise our hands – not afraid of getting out of the boat.

Isn’t it funny
that we do anything we can
not to look silly
or foolish?

Isn’t it funny
that we try in who we are
to look sophisticated
and wise?

Isn’t it funny
that in everything He does
God has chosen the foolish
to shame the wise?

isn’t it funny.

another case of the economics of the Kingdom catching up to me. it’s been probably 6 years since i wrote that, and i don’t know that i do any better with it now than i did back then.

nobody likes to look dumb. nobody likes to look silly. we all try to put our best foot forward and not look like dunces in front of the world.

but sometimes the illogic of God trumps the logic of men. it’s funny how we try to make sense of everything – like there must be a logical explaination for every religious truth. faith doesn’t work like that, thankfully. you don’t need a degree in rhetoric in order to be a good Christian. you just need faith.

and God again turns the world upside down, remding us that what we think of things isn’t always that important…

I once saw a child speak.

His voice was squeaky.
His manner unsure.

He told a story that seemed to have no bearing on anything.

His connections to the Bible were poor at best, tragic at worst.

His lesson made little sense, and I struggled to follow it.

I struggled to listen to the beautiful story lurking below the surface of his message.

Even if his speech wasn’t good, I had to admit that his heart was.

I had spoken that morning.

I spoke with force.
and power.

I had a forceful message that made you think.

I spoke with passion and moving words.

He spoke with the words of God.

“If I speak
in the tongues of men and of angels,

but have not love,

I am only a resounding gong
or a clanging cymbal.”

God have mercy on me.
God have mercy on me.

those of you who know me closely know that pride is one of those nasty little things i struggle with. often. this might have been one of the first times i really recognized it.

the kid was terrible. he really was. most 8 year olds (or however old he was) are. i’m sure i was too. but what a beautiful heart, standing and speaking about something he loved – Jesus.

it was a shot across the bow, really – the first of many that God has sent me, and no doubt the last.

i am not all that. and for all the talent I have been given, if my heart is not in the right place and i am not constantly aware of my relation to a holy and perfect God, then anything i say is worthless. if i do not have love and cannot subjugate myself to others in order to do what it takes to love them, then all i’m doing is making noise.

and that’s hard for a person like me. even now, it’s something I struggle with. but it’s a part of my journey.

God have mercy on me.
God have mercy on me.

Heart and Soul.

I fell in love with you
heart and soul.

Take my heart, God.
But my actions are mine.

Take my heart.
But what I do on Friday is my business.

Take my heart.
But this show is more important than spending time with you.

Take my heart.
But I’m keeping my money this week.

God looks at what we give,
But he cares about what we keep.

To fall in love with Him
Is to give your heart
and your actions.

Heart and Soul.

there is a completeness to our walk with Christ that is something we aren’t spiritually born with. as a result of our compartmentalization, we often think we can give little pieces to God – that somehow this is a sharing process and that we get to choose what God gets, while at the same time choosing what we get from Him. sort of like a best of both worlds type of thing.

too bad that’s not really not a sound theological way to look at it.

our lives need be completely surrendered to Jesus Christ. there is nothing left – nothing we can hold onto, nothing left to keep. the key statement for me here, i think, is that Christ looks at what we give, but cares about what we keep. those things that we hold onto – those are the things keeping us from Christ.

may we each let go of all the things that encumber us, and the sin that so easily entangles, and run the race toward God.

Jesus.

Who did he associate with?

Was it
the rich?
the influential?
the popular?
the powerful?

No.

It was
the poor.
the weak.
the outcasts.
the wretched.

“Therefore let your attitude be the same as that of Christ Jesus.”

God have mercy on me.
God have mercy on me.

the wretched – les miserables. no doubt i was reading through that, my favorite book around the time i wrote this.

i was struck, and still am, at the company we keep. one of the most common criticisms of Jesus was that he was a friend of sinners. so often we engage in sectarian practices where we try as hard as we can to not associate with “bad people”. “bad character corrupts good morals”, we say. stay away from those people at all costs.

sadly, though, we ignore other verses. you are the salt of the earth. you are the light of the world. be in the world but not of the world. we’ve withdrawn from the very people who need us the most, and condemned the world to hell while we stand by watching. so un-Christlike.

not many of us minister anymore, really. and it’s a sad thing. because i think Christ would keep vastly different company than i do – and that is something that causes me more than a little bit of tension.

There are verses in the bible that I don’t like.

Oh, I know they’re there, but I don’t like them.

The ones about
preaching to the lost,
giving of my self,
taking up my cross.

The verses that imply I must do something.

Christianity isn’t a club where you
show up to meetings,
pay your dues,
stamp your card,
and stay on the roll to be a member.

Church maybe.
But not Christianity.

Being a Christian,
being a follower
of Christ,
requires one important thing:

you must follow.

When we say that there is nothing we can do that will get us to heaven, I think we miss one point.

Christianity implies that we must do something.

“Follow me.”

this was written in tandem with the following one:

There are verses in the bible that I like.

I seem to return to them every chance I get.

The ones about
how I’m saved,
and loved,
and cared for.

The ones that imply that I have a free ride.

Christianity isn’t a club where you
talk to the right people,
know the right verses,
do the right service work,
and give the right amount to be a member.

Church maybe.
But not Christianity.

Being a Christian,
being a follower
of Christ,
requires one important thing.

you must realize that it’s not enough.

When we say that we need to do these things so we can get to heaven, I think we miss one point.

Christianity implies that we can do nothing.

“Follow me.”

i think the interesting thing about these two passages is that it marks one of the first times i can remember coming to a conlcusion that things might be a whole lot more complicated than i’d originally though. in “a new kind of Christian”, mclaren notes that a lot of times our theological positions are like some high school kid’s gym bag – stuff hanging out everywhere because it won’t quite fit together.

we use fancy words for it, of course – calvinism, armineanism… pre-destination, etc… but the reality is that there are theological issues that we will never grasp the complexity of. how can i be saved completely by the grace of God, but still at the same time have to do something about it? i’m not really sure. there are so many mysteries to Christ that we can argue about forever, but, as each one of these ends, the most important thing we can do is follow Him.

Alive.

What does it mean?

Does it simply mean not dead?

It can be described as biological processes and chemical reactions.

It can be defined as heartbeats and breath rates.

It can be imagined as electrical impulses and firing neurons.

But I believe there is part of life that can’t be defined,

something that sets
people who are alive
from those who are walking dead.

“I am the bread of life…”

What does it mean to be alive?

I think it is realizing that the Bread of Life is walking with you,

believing the Living Word can comfort you,

knowing the reason for life is the Savior,

and hoping for the day you will live with Him forever.

this was, i think, one of my first realizations that there is some difference between those who are in Christian culture who are just going through the motions and those who have a life to them. it’s so easy in our modern day context to have people who show up and want to feel like good people, but never partake of the abundant life that Christ allows us to have. there are many people who sound religious, but aren’t really Godly.

the reality is that there is something more to Christian life than church attendance or ritual sacrifice. there’s something more than knowing how to pray or studying the bible… there is a life that exceeds those things. life that’s important and sadly too rare in our churches today.

may you find today the abundant life of Christ, and may it transform you in all you do.

“Unless you become like little children…”

I was around children once.

Two hundred-fifty children, and twelve of us.

Children scream
Children whine
Children cry
Children complain.

They ask stupid questions.
They pester and bother you, and wonder why you get frustrated.

They do stupid things.
They push the limit until they go too far, then say they didn’t mean it.

They hang onto you.
They hug you and squeeze you, and never want to let go.

Many times I fear asking stupid questions.
Many times I fear doing stupid things.

But my God tells me that it’s ok,
and holds me in His arms,

and never lets go.

i was on a weekend trip – twelve of us babysitting 250 children from third to sixth grade. it was a nightmare waiting to happen.

after spending one of the longest weekends of my life, i was struck at how i must look to God – an annoying whiny kid who does stupid things and pushes buttons until i go too far. and in that, i’m glad that God is infinitely more patient than I am.

may we draw close to the loving father who wraps us tenderly in his arms – and never lets go.