posts

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.

“This man who opened your eyes – Who do you say he is?”

Sadly, my response is all too often the same:

I don’t know.

Isn’t it strange,
in a religion based on a relationship,

I still must say

I don’t know.

There is a wonder to Jesus that I don’t understand.

There is a majesty to Jesus that I will never comprehend.

But there is a friend in Jesus who walks with me.

And I know who He is.

this is one of those ones that is really interesting to go back and read, because in doing so i’m really not entirely sure what i was thinking. i know who he is? really?

the idea though, i think is compelling to me even now. “this man who opened your eyes – who is he?” sometimes it’s very difficult for us as Christians to give a cogent answer to that seemingly simple question. we couch Jesus in a set of propositions or as a historical figure, rather than in a relational sense. we forget that we each have experience with Christ, and that we should know who he is *to us*. it’s not to say that we have all the answers, but there is a personal element to Christ that is vital – a relational element to Christ that is essential.

may we each find that today.

We come every week to stand
at the foot of our Lord.

We come and look up at the cross.
We come and look at the nails.
We come and look at his hands.
But how many of us come and look at his eyes?

We look at his scars.
We look at the guards around him.
We look at the men who beat him, and stripped him, and cast lots for his clothes.
But how many of us have the courage to look at his face?

We stand at the cross.
We weep at the cross.
We wonder in awe at the cross.
But do we notice the man on the cross?

We hear the screaming.
We hear the mockery.
We hear shouting crowd.
But do we hear the words he speaks to us?

Each week we come and survey the scene around us.

We take it all in.

But in our weekly sojourn,
how often do we remember the reason that we came there.

Because I don’t think it’s the cross that gives Golgotha its power.

And I don’t think it’s the Roman Soldiers at the cross.

And I don’t think it’s the crowd of the cross.

And I don’t think it’s the sounds of the cross.

But I think that what gives that hill its power

is the Man of the Cross.

And to know the power of Golgotha
you have to know the Man of Golgotha.

As you look at the cross,
look in his eyes.

Eyes full of pain.
Eyes full of sorrow.
Eyes full of wisdom.
Eyes full of joy.
Do you know the Man of the Cross?

again, clearly, this was in an eye phase. it was largely inspired by a passage in Cheney’s book God is no Fool – a book that still puts the hook in me sometimes. in it she asks why we don’t look into the eyes of Christ.

i also went through a phase where i was very uncertain about our methodology of celebration of the eucharist. to me, we have a strange fixation on pain and suffering during communion, though i wouldn’t have said so at this point. but even at this stage, i think i was frustrated by our strange focus on nails and crosses and soldiers as opposed to focus on Jesus… now i would say that that we focus too much on the cross and not enough on the empty tomb – the real anomoly of the whole story, but at this point in my walk i think my realization was that not just the eucharist, but really all of Christianity, is about Christ. there are lots of dressings and other things we put around him, but the essence is found in Jesus, and in Jesus alone.