A good friend of mine has endured a hellish six months. What began with a health crisis continued to snowball with a month by month list of personal grief and painful surprises. News of her most recent blow reached me while I was wrestling with a sermon on pain and suffering in the life of faith. She was on the road, so we visited by cell phone before I returned to my desk.
With that backdrop of grief freshly brought to mind, I couldn't move beyond one idea in 1 Peter 4:13. We've just been encouraged not to complain when trials erupt in our lives. We must not behave as though something alien or unnatural has interrupted our lives. Then Peter adds, "But rejoice insofar as you share Christ's sufferings, that you may also rejoice and be glad when his glory is revealed." I have worked through that text many times before, but this time, the ground deep inside my heart began to shift painfully, like seismic plates along a fault line.
"I can understand suffering for a cause," I complained to my Father, "But this is too much. This kind of affliction goes too far! Lord, it almost makes the God of amazing grace appear to be cruel and insensitive!" Face it, you can't be much more critical here in 2010 than to say someone is insensitive! But that's what I was thinking. I can easily relate to Christ when the world rejects me and people abuse me, as long as the Author of Life is working on my behalf. It's me and God against the world. It's okay!
But I wondered what in the world I might learn about Jesus when it seems that God has turned his back on me. How can I possibly relate to Christ in the face of divine rejection? I had barely put those words into a sentence when this image came creeping into my mind. It was a vision of a man dying on a cross, wracked with pain and absorbing all the scorn some cruel bystanders could heap upon him. I could see his cracked, parched lips moving slowly, finally uttering those familiar words, "My God! My God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from my deliverance?"
Insight came slowly. But the light finally came on.
I don't believe God ever turned his back on his dying Son. I happen to believe that Christ was reciting Psalm 22, lyrics beloved by the Jews in times of profound distress. But Christ prayed that psalm because that's surely how it felt. His life was painfully slipping away and the world was blanketed in ominous darkness. Heaven was silent. But praying a psalm when it feels like God isn't watching is a simple way of confirming, "Of course my Father is nearby!" Otherwise, why not simply cry out with a curse? Why not denounce all those insufficient ideas you ever believed and wait for death? Why use God's Word unless you still believe it works? A psalm is one way to identify with God even when you can't explain him.
I realized that is what we learn about Christ when life feels intentionally brutal. And that's what we can learn about ourselves. My convictions about God have grown so deep and my experience with him is so fully realized that even when it feels he has turned his back, I know in my heart he is still standing close by. I believe my life is never beyond his gentle touch and his powerful love, no matter how it may feel at one moment or another. And that's not just what I believe; it's what I have experienced in my life.
So I took some time and prayed for my friend in her unfolding grief. To us it all seems like too much sorrow piled high, as hard and black as a mound of coal. But that's just how it appears for the moment. History confirms our Eternal God can turn it all to diamonds.
Selah.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
Monday, October 18, 2010
Angry Saints
Sunday's sermon was about angry Christians. (10-17-10: "Blessed are the Angry?") I applied the words of Christ to the bad reputation churches have for anger and division. And at the end of the service, I challenged everyone to examine their attitudes and let their anger go. In fact, I asked members of the congregation to bow their heads and turn the palms of their hands up toward Heaven, asking God to take hidden, deep seated anger away.
Afterwards, a woman came by to ask if she could speak with me for a moment. She indicated that her son and daughter-in-law had been angry at her for over a year. They'd been offended by some innocent decision related to a crisis in the larger family. As a result, they hadn't spoken to her for months. She shared that she has occasionally tried to offer an olive branch, but that she has always been rebuffed.
Finally, she confessed, "I never thought I was angry. I always thought I was perfectly fine and willing to be at peace with them. So today when you asked us to turn up the palms of our hands to God and release our anger, I thought, 'I don't need to do that.' Then I thought, 'I'm not going to do that. That's silly!' Then the Holy Spirit just turned my hands over, and I realized I've been extremely angry and have just been trying to hide it."
That dear lady is not alone. It's very common for church people to deny that we're angry. We try and conceal the rage with more polite phrases like "I'm just concerned," or "I'm hurt," or "I'm merely offended." We are unwilling to confess that we're still angry because we know it's wrong.
And when we're not in denial, we rationalize. We cleverly concede that ongoing anger is generally wrong, but this case is the exception. We try to make it all right by suggesting this is a spiritual matter or a biblical matter of it's something we've prayed about. But deep down in our hearts, we know we're not behaving like Jesus. We're acting like the Pharisees who were angry at him for three whole years!
You can't help it when anger suddenly rises up in your life without warning. That's what emotions do, and that first rush of rage is beyond your control. You're not accountable for that. But you and I are accountable to God for what we do with our anger- or rather, what we allow our anger to do to us and the people around us when we allow it to simmer for days or weeks.
Paul warns us, "In your anger do not sin": Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry." (Ephesians 4:26) The truth is, if I've been angry at someone for more than the last hour or so, there is no excuse. Anger is like a raging cancer. We want it treated and removed as quickly as possible.
Selah.
Afterwards, a woman came by to ask if she could speak with me for a moment. She indicated that her son and daughter-in-law had been angry at her for over a year. They'd been offended by some innocent decision related to a crisis in the larger family. As a result, they hadn't spoken to her for months. She shared that she has occasionally tried to offer an olive branch, but that she has always been rebuffed.
Finally, she confessed, "I never thought I was angry. I always thought I was perfectly fine and willing to be at peace with them. So today when you asked us to turn up the palms of our hands to God and release our anger, I thought, 'I don't need to do that.' Then I thought, 'I'm not going to do that. That's silly!' Then the Holy Spirit just turned my hands over, and I realized I've been extremely angry and have just been trying to hide it."
That dear lady is not alone. It's very common for church people to deny that we're angry. We try and conceal the rage with more polite phrases like "I'm just concerned," or "I'm hurt," or "I'm merely offended." We are unwilling to confess that we're still angry because we know it's wrong.
And when we're not in denial, we rationalize. We cleverly concede that ongoing anger is generally wrong, but this case is the exception. We try to make it all right by suggesting this is a spiritual matter or a biblical matter of it's something we've prayed about. But deep down in our hearts, we know we're not behaving like Jesus. We're acting like the Pharisees who were angry at him for three whole years!
You can't help it when anger suddenly rises up in your life without warning. That's what emotions do, and that first rush of rage is beyond your control. You're not accountable for that. But you and I are accountable to God for what we do with our anger- or rather, what we allow our anger to do to us and the people around us when we allow it to simmer for days or weeks.
Paul warns us, "In your anger do not sin": Do not let the sun go down while you are still angry." (Ephesians 4:26) The truth is, if I've been angry at someone for more than the last hour or so, there is no excuse. Anger is like a raging cancer. We want it treated and removed as quickly as possible.
Selah.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
The Shrinking Dollar
Jesus never ordered his disciples to sell everything they owned and give it to the poor. In fact, he only gave that directive to one deluded young man. On a different occasion, a typically corrupt tax collector named Zaccheus was celebrated when his new-found faith prompted him to sell half of his possessions and give the proceeds to the poor. So the early monks and friars were mistaken when they assumed that poverty is innately virtuous. There must be at least as many corrupt poor people as there are corrupt rich folks.
Francis of Assisi was so committed to poverty and so fearful of the corrupting powers of money that he would not allow his followers even to touch coins. When a brother inadvertently touched some small change in moving it to a window ledge, an apology was not nearly enough. Francis forced him to get down on all fours, pick up each coin with his mouth, crawl across the yard to the livestock pens, and deposit the money onto a heap of donkey dung!
But Jesus Christ never told us not to touch money, or own it, or spend it. We know that the Lord himself and his followers carried money around with them. Otherwise they would not have required a Treasurer, and Judas would have had nothing to steal! It's acceptable for people of faith to earn money and even enjoy some of the benefits of the money we've earned. Rather, Christ teaches us that we must not treasure it, we must not allow it to rule our lives, and we must seek God's Kingdom first! (Matthew 6: 19,24,33)
Living Kingdom-First makes two demands on our lives in regard to money and wealth. I'd express those requirements this way: Live more simply and give more away.
It's no wonder these ideas are part of what I call the Lost Gospel. To make your home in the United States is to live and breathe in an environment of unrelenting materialism. Television commercials, radio jingles, magazine ads, roadside billboards and even signs on buses urge us to buy, to acquire, to taste, to experience, to accumulate, to spend! Reclaiming the Gospel truths about money will require a lot of faith and diligence for saints in the 21st Century marketplace.
So we decided to begin our Boot Camp at Providence during the run-up to Christmas. We're going to be intentional about spending less and giving more; refusing to chase after the World in their lust to buy the largest possible number of presents for friends who don't really need anything! We've resolved to give presents that are more simple, more spiritual, more eternal. We are committed to shop less but share more. It's not a battle we will win in three months- far from it! But it's a lifetime discipline we will begin to learn.
Someone has quipped, "We live by the golden rule: those who have the gold make the rules." The Bible says it differently- He who makes the gold rules. And that's why some of us have lost our religion. We have walked away from the god of the world's largest religion: Mammon. We have picked up a cross and taken the narrow path to the vastly bigger God of Heaven. And we have no regrets. So this Christmas, let's be sure we worship the real God, not the more popular one.
Selah.
Francis of Assisi was so committed to poverty and so fearful of the corrupting powers of money that he would not allow his followers even to touch coins. When a brother inadvertently touched some small change in moving it to a window ledge, an apology was not nearly enough. Francis forced him to get down on all fours, pick up each coin with his mouth, crawl across the yard to the livestock pens, and deposit the money onto a heap of donkey dung!
But Jesus Christ never told us not to touch money, or own it, or spend it. We know that the Lord himself and his followers carried money around with them. Otherwise they would not have required a Treasurer, and Judas would have had nothing to steal! It's acceptable for people of faith to earn money and even enjoy some of the benefits of the money we've earned. Rather, Christ teaches us that we must not treasure it, we must not allow it to rule our lives, and we must seek God's Kingdom first! (Matthew 6: 19,24,33)
Living Kingdom-First makes two demands on our lives in regard to money and wealth. I'd express those requirements this way: Live more simply and give more away.
It's no wonder these ideas are part of what I call the Lost Gospel. To make your home in the United States is to live and breathe in an environment of unrelenting materialism. Television commercials, radio jingles, magazine ads, roadside billboards and even signs on buses urge us to buy, to acquire, to taste, to experience, to accumulate, to spend! Reclaiming the Gospel truths about money will require a lot of faith and diligence for saints in the 21st Century marketplace.
So we decided to begin our Boot Camp at Providence during the run-up to Christmas. We're going to be intentional about spending less and giving more; refusing to chase after the World in their lust to buy the largest possible number of presents for friends who don't really need anything! We've resolved to give presents that are more simple, more spiritual, more eternal. We are committed to shop less but share more. It's not a battle we will win in three months- far from it! But it's a lifetime discipline we will begin to learn.
Someone has quipped, "We live by the golden rule: those who have the gold make the rules." The Bible says it differently- He who makes the gold rules. And that's why some of us have lost our religion. We have walked away from the god of the world's largest religion: Mammon. We have picked up a cross and taken the narrow path to the vastly bigger God of Heaven. And we have no regrets. So this Christmas, let's be sure we worship the real God, not the more popular one.
Selah.
Monday, October 4, 2010
Just Call Me a Tool
"Why is American culture so friendly to Islam?" friends often ask me. "The icons of US society are utterly and completely offended by Christianity! So why does Islam always get a pass?"
Here's my answer: "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." American elites consider Christianity the Archenemy. They resent us because we talk too much about self-control, purity, chastity, and eternity, and it hasn't escaped their notice that Islam resents us as well. So just like the Pharisees and the Herodians who united to oppose Jesus Christ, Hollywood and NYC are more than happy to elevate the Muslim religion at the expense of the Christian faith. If they can just get rid of Jesus, they figure Mohammed will be a piece of cake later on.
Nowhere is the clash of cultures between the World and the Church more evident than in the topic of authority. Rock legends and TV celebrities use the airways to champion the simple ethic of "Do your own thing!" There's a basic reason why motion pictures routinely make heroines out of prostitutes and strippers, and why TV talk shows headline the most sordid and excessive forms of behavior: nothing is normal. In a world that celebrates the civil right to express yourself and find your personal groove, there is no such thing as a norm.
And there is no such thing as a Lord! This is where Jesus Christ comes in, of course. As much as Americans would like to chill with someone of such notoriety, Jesus calls us to surrender and confess him!
I love that gospel account of the respected Roman centurion who asks Christ to heal a trusted servant who is extremely ill. When the Lord offers to follow the man to his house, the centurion replies, "Oh no, Lord. I'm not worthy to have you under my roof. Just speak the word and my servant will be healed." Then he goes on to explain that he is also a man under authority. Because he is under the authority of more powerful people, he can order his subordinates to go and they must go- not because he's so strong, but because of the authority of Rome. (See Matthew 8.) Jesus marvels at the insight reflected in that confession: the centurion realizes that Christ has power because he, too, is under the authority of Heaven.
The icons of evolution take pride in the idea that we humans are merely advanced flotsam and jetsam adrift in a random universe. Why should microscopic space dust like us aspire to meaning? But the Bible counters that we are precision tools custom fitted to a master craftsman's hands; organs perfectly designed for the Body of Christ. Only when we are connected, coordinated, and in sync with his divine mind do we finally understand why people need the Lord.
Selah!
Here's my answer: "The enemy of my enemy is my friend." American elites consider Christianity the Archenemy. They resent us because we talk too much about self-control, purity, chastity, and eternity, and it hasn't escaped their notice that Islam resents us as well. So just like the Pharisees and the Herodians who united to oppose Jesus Christ, Hollywood and NYC are more than happy to elevate the Muslim religion at the expense of the Christian faith. If they can just get rid of Jesus, they figure Mohammed will be a piece of cake later on.
Nowhere is the clash of cultures between the World and the Church more evident than in the topic of authority. Rock legends and TV celebrities use the airways to champion the simple ethic of "Do your own thing!" There's a basic reason why motion pictures routinely make heroines out of prostitutes and strippers, and why TV talk shows headline the most sordid and excessive forms of behavior: nothing is normal. In a world that celebrates the civil right to express yourself and find your personal groove, there is no such thing as a norm.
And there is no such thing as a Lord! This is where Jesus Christ comes in, of course. As much as Americans would like to chill with someone of such notoriety, Jesus calls us to surrender and confess him!
- In John 14:15 he directs us, "If you love me, keep my commandments."
- In Matthew 11:28 he invites world weary men and women to submit to his yoke, using imagery that suggests oxen laboring for their master.
- In Luke 6:46 he asks "Why do you call me 'Lord, Lord' when you don't do what I say?"
I love that gospel account of the respected Roman centurion who asks Christ to heal a trusted servant who is extremely ill. When the Lord offers to follow the man to his house, the centurion replies, "Oh no, Lord. I'm not worthy to have you under my roof. Just speak the word and my servant will be healed." Then he goes on to explain that he is also a man under authority. Because he is under the authority of more powerful people, he can order his subordinates to go and they must go- not because he's so strong, but because of the authority of Rome. (See Matthew 8.) Jesus marvels at the insight reflected in that confession: the centurion realizes that Christ has power because he, too, is under the authority of Heaven.
The icons of evolution take pride in the idea that we humans are merely advanced flotsam and jetsam adrift in a random universe. Why should microscopic space dust like us aspire to meaning? But the Bible counters that we are precision tools custom fitted to a master craftsman's hands; organs perfectly designed for the Body of Christ. Only when we are connected, coordinated, and in sync with his divine mind do we finally understand why people need the Lord.
Selah!
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