Monochromatic (Pt. 1)

A friend of mine recently wrote me and gently chided me for not putting hardly anything “personal” on this blog.  I responded that pretty much everything posted here is deeply personal.  I will admit that the content here (and on my Facebook) is removed from the common chatter about sniffles and life-frustrations and political rants.  Since I speak in front of hundreds of people every week and share some of those kinds of things (minus, perhaps, political rants) I am cured during the week of any such notion of filling up my corner of cyberspace with even more of my temporary diversions.

Posting my thoughts and interactions with God’s Word, however, is the greatest privilege.  I am not one of those detached purveyors of pithy statements; my interaction with God’s Word is confession of the “hidden places” in my life.  These thoughts are who I am and not some philosophy of the mind or some life-construct to which I adhere.  These posts are intimates of mine.

I am a real, live, person, however, and not some monochromatic apparition, so from time to time I will attempt to write entries that reflect a more transient reality.

Lately I am particularly thankful for my parents.  My wife, Michelle, is realizing her long-held dream of opening a business of her own and I am drawing upon some characteristics that mom and dad inculcated directly and indirectly in order to survive.

Mom could make something out of nothing almost effortlessly (or so it seemed).  There were periods of time when hamburger was the exclusive protein available.  I ate so much hamburger during my growing up years that I asked my new bride not to offer it as an ingredient for dinner for years.  Mom could make all sorts of things out of hamburger and a hodge-podge of other ingredients.  We may have had hamburger every day, but we didn’t have it in the same form.  The ability to plop down the meat and look in the pantry or refrigerator and figure out on-the-fly some sort of recipe using whatever was at hand never ceased to amaze me.  I am so grateful that this ability is part of my life and the life of my siblings.  To this day I don’t prefer hamburger, but I can open the fridge of my life and see what is in there and make something palatable at a moment’s notice.

Dad spent my entire growing up life doing things he had no idea of how to do, especially around the house.  We had no money to hire jobs out so Dad learned by error and trial (in that order) how to do everything there is to do to keep and improve a home.  To this very day my dad will tackle jobs he has no clue how to accomplish by virtue of his irascible will, courageous spirit and dogged determination.  There is no way dad should be able to do what he accomplishes.  I find myself in similar situations regularly.  I know how to do many things, but thanks to dad I am not afraid to try (and even fail) doing things that are out of my realm of expertise.

…a woman who fears the Lord, she shall be praised. Give her the product of her hands, let her works praise her in the [city] gates. (Proverbs 31:30-31)

…the glory of sons is their fathers. (Proverbs 17.6)

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A Family Problem

The modern American experience nearly ensures every person’s first-hand knowledge of problems within the family.  Divorce, abuse, abandonment, conflict, nearly every family experiences at least one of these things first hand.  The hurt and broken lives which come parceled with family problems is of inestimable cost in every measurable, and immeasurable way.  We are intimate with this truth in this day.

[picapp align=”center” wrap=”false” link=”term=nativity+scene&iid=2936283″ src=”3/4/c/7/d5.jpg?adImageId=7939855&imageId=2936283″ width=”380″ height=”253″ /]So often we think Jesus immune to family problems, after all wasn’t he the chubby little infant nestled cozily in the straw-filled manger while his handsomely dressed parents, the nicely groomed animals, the well-kept shepherds and an angel or two looked serenely down upon Jesus’ cherubic face?

How many times have we considered that the announcement of Jesus’ birth caused fear, not celebration, more often than not? How many times have we stopped to consider that Jesus’ earthly parents nearly divorced before Jesus was even born?  How many times do we remember that Jesus’ parents were technically homeless on his birth day and then subsequently were refugees in a country foreign to them before Jesus was out of his toddler years? Should we remember the Bible records Jesus’ parents were angry with him? Should we recall the argument between Jesus, his brothers and his mother?  Didn’t his own hometown ask the question, “Isn’t this not Joseph’s son?”  I can almost see the self-justified sneer behind the lips of those who spoke from first-hand knowledge of Jesus’ “family problems.”

The modern American experience nearly ensures every person’s first-hand knowledge of problems within the family.  Divorce, abuse, abandonment, conflict, nearly every family experiences at least one of these things first hand.  The hurt and broken lives which come parceled with family problems is of inestimable cost in every measurable, and immeasurable way.  We are intimate with this truth in this day.

So often we think Jesus immune to family problems, after all wasn’t he the chubby little infant nestled cozily in the straw-filled manger while his handsomely dressed parents, the nicely groomed animals, the well-kept shepherds and an angel or two looked serenely down upon Jesus’ cherubic face?

How many times have we considered that the announcement of Jesus’ birth caused fear, not celebration, more often than not? How many times have we stopped to consider that Jesus’ earthly parents nearly divorced before Jesus was even born?  How many times do we remember that Jesus’ parents were technically homeless on his birth day and then subsequently were refugees in a country foreign to them before Jesus was out of his toddler years? Should we remember the Bible records Jesus’ parents were angry with him? Should we recall the argument between Jesus, his brothers and his mother?  Didn’t his own hometown ask the question, “Isn’t this not Joseph’s son?”  I can almost see the self-justified sneer behind the lips of those who spoke from first-hand knowledge of Jesus’ “family problems.”

My friends at Main Street will gather this upcoming Sunday to worship the one who suffered from “A Family Problem.”

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Thanksgiving, A Final Stronghold

[picapp align=”center” wrap=”false” link=”term=thanksgiving&iid=7136094″ src=”e/0/4/e/President_Obama_Pardons_b351.jpg?adImageId=7858833&imageId=7136094″ width=”380″ height=”258″ /]Since I did not grow up with knowing of the Liturgical year, my Christian holiday experience is limited (by experience) to Christmas, Easter and Thanksgiving. I “ranked” the holidays in just this order through my childhood and early adult years. Each was important, each had its place in the holiday pecking order.
My first son, born in late October, facilitated Thanksgiving bearing a deeper meaning. It seems that holding a newborn in your hand changes a lot of things. I got to thinking about holidays that year and my appreciation of Thanksgiving increased by the month.
That first Christmas was incredible, but the day necessitated a discussion as to how we would protect the significance of the celebration as years rolled by. The first Easter, quite frankly, was a chore as the boy was old enough to require extra attention and preparation to make the varied events of the day. Yet another discussion was required as to how keep the resurrection the focus against the silliness of bunnies and prodigious amounts of sugar treats.
Thanksgiving stood alone. In America it is the last remaining distinctly Christian holiday and now is my favorite bar none. Until we begin to call it something different from “Thanksgiving,” the day begs the questions, “Thankful to whom?” and “Why be thankful at all?” I love it!
Since becoming a pastor, I have exerted much effort to allow the Christmas holiday to roll along without making the Church yet another participant in creating a ridiculously overbearing season. I have tried to reclaim Easter as a Resurrection Day celebration and rid it of unrelated baggage. Thanksgiving stands alone, inviting us all to get beyond gluttony and to grasp the rare treasure of gratitude. What a day to celebrate!
There is so much to talk about at Thanksgiving, so many ways to recognize the grace of God in our lives from day-to-day. This day, this one day, our culture stops and responds, mostly in ignorance, but responds none-the-less to the immensity of the largess God has placed in our hands. It is my prayer this day that in the midst of the pain and disappointments and financial devastations of this past year, we humbly bow and truly thank the God who is still giving to us in spite of our complete lack of merit.
Thank you Father, Savior, Friend, Provider. You are good and because of you I know what good is.

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Stripped

[picapp align=”center” wrap=”false” link=”term=embarrassed&iid=5084362″ src=”5/5/5/a/Boy_69_covering_ab29.jpg?adImageId=7753874&imageId=5084362″ width=”380″ height=”253″ /]

Once upon a time not so long ago, the very discussion of being naked in public could horrify even the brashest of souls.  I remember sitting in the locker room raptly listening to the story of “Steve” who was the year before duct taped to the pillar in the girl’s locker room…naked.  I watched my teammates grimace and “ooh and ahh” as my gifted peer related the narrative of “Steve’s” cries for mercy, and the entrance of the girl’s volleyball team and the subsequent roll call of students who had been suspended or expelled.  Many thought the event funny, but even the hardest of hearts felt sorry for “Steve” and secretly rejoiced that it hadn’t happened to them.

The years have rolled by and we have lost our dignity.  Now, for the sake of infamy, we film such degradations and serialize the experience on MTV or, even worse, post it on YouTube.  Many will do anything for their moment of fame (our attention spans are much too short for fifteen minutes anymore).

The unfortunate corollary to this cultural movement is the loss of awe of Jesus.  The Bible says that Jesus voluntarily released his position of eminence, his authority, the viewpoint from which the galaxies could be perused and entered into the darkness we invited to rule us when we rejected the light of God’s rule.

This upcoming weekend my friends at Main Street will begin a new series I titled “Stripped.” As we look forward to celebrating the Advent, we will count the cost of our joy.

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What if Jesus Had No Feet?

What if Jesus had no feet?  I mean what if he didn’t really walk the dusty roads of Palestine or the traverse the stormy Sea of Galilee.  What if he never climbed a mountain in the wilderness or trudged on to the next town because the last town wouldn’t receive him?  What if no one ever washed his toes with her tears or what if he never stumbled under the weight of the cross?  What if he never confidently strode from the grave or travelled the road to Emmaus?

 

If Jesus had no feet, then he is irrelevant as they say he is.  All the nonsense about loving the neighbor, doing good to those who hate you, giving without expectation of return, and giving up of one’s own life for the sake of the good news would be empty of meaning or import.

 

If Jesus had no feet his claim to “Savior” would be scurrilous.  The best place for Jesus would be on the philosophy shelf directly under Plato, Camus, and Marx for they would be his superiors.  They all had feet.

 

 

“…whoever says he abides in him [Jesus] ought to walk in the same way in which he walked.” (1 John 2:6, ESV)

 

 

 

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Did I Do That?

“For I was hungry, and you fed me. I was thirsty, and you gave me a drink. I was a stranger, and you invited me into your home. I was naked, and you gave me clothing. I was sick, and you cared for me. I was in prison, and you visited me.’ “Then these righteous ones will reply, ‘Lord, when did we ever see you hungry and feed you? Or thirsty and give you something to drink? Or a stranger and show you hospitality? Or naked and give you clothing? When did we ever see you sick or in prison and visit you?’ “And the King will say, ‘I tell you the truth, when you did it to one of the least of these my brothers and sisters, you were doing it to me!'” (Matthew 25:35-40, NLT)

In my opinion Matthew 25 is one of the most frightening portions of Scripture.  Considered to a composition of Jesus’ words without interruption, the content chills me every time I read.  The “main point” is simply the a command to be ready for the return of the King by living our lives in such a way that it matters not when Jesus returns for he will find us about his business.[picapp src=”0224/a1547572-0068-44bc-a110-c0f6b9ba34cd.jpg?adImageId=7523768&imageId=228159″ width=”234″ height=”156″ /]

I find myself so often distracted by meaningless activity and pursuits that I wonder if I will be counted amongst the foolish.  There is this great tension between living in this world and living for this world.

Yet there remains hope, thank God.  There are those sheep, those blessed and oft ignorant sheep, who receive the compliments of their Sovereign and Judge.  These sheep busied themselves with the business of the Kingdom and when confronted with their acts, they are surprised.

Did I do that?

My friends at Main Street will be talking about this topic this week. 

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