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Year End Inventory-A Personal Assessment

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As I begin my last blog of 2014 I want to take a minute to thank those of you who have signed up to follow papaswords.com this year. It is humbling anytime anyone is interested enough in what a person has to say that they choose to follow your weekly posting.  Your interest, your comments and your sharing on topics and the every day struggles of living the Christian faith are always welcomed.

Having been in business and retail in the past I’ve taken many physical inventories.  While some businesses take quarterly inventories the big one is always the one taken at the end of the year. In business much can be learned from the inventory left at year’s end. It can tell you what items you sold or distributed the most.  It can tell you how well you forecasted your annual needs.  Inventory can identify current trends and it can help you better judge which items you will need to restock or liquidate for the upcoming year.

Each year at this time many of us do similar personal inventories.  New Year’s Day is the day when resolutions are made usually for the betterment of our personal lives based on habits or trends of the previous year. There are the standard quit smoking, eat better or lose weight commitments and maybe the read the Bible and pray more resolutions.  However you do it and whatever it looks like, this is the time of the year when most of us swear to make some kind of change in our personal lives. That is unless you have come to the stage where past failures in keeping these year end decisions deter you from taking such personal assessment tests ever again. Like you, each year I too consider what I did wrong the previous year and what I need to do to live better in the year ahead.

2014 was not a kind year for me.  After much effort, sleepless nights and negative health effects, I lost my business.  Some reports in the medical field read that losing a business is as traumatic for some as losing a close family member.  The grieving process is much the same. As a result my personal year end inventory tells a story that isn’t necessarily a pretty one. I am left with many boxes of good inventory that should have been distributed and I have little left of bad inventory that should never have left the building.  Here is what I’m talking about.

The Bible is clear about the inventory of good items that every Christian believer should posses and distribute.  Galatians 5:22 says this;

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law.

“By our fruit they will know us”.  I’m not sure if I displayed enough of this fruit or inventory in 2014 to convince some of my faith. I certainly didn’t display much peace as I struggled with the business. I can’t say I demonstrated much kindness or goodness to others as I was a bit too focused on my own issues at the time to consider others. While I tried to remain faithful through the process there were many days when I lost control.  These items listed are inventory items that should be replenished at the end of each year because we distributed and shipped all the inventory we had to others throughout the year.  Sadly I still have quite a bit of unused inventory still sitting there on the shelves at year’s end.

On the other end of the scale are those inventory items that each of us are born with because of our sinful nature that should be stored in a part of your warehouse for slow moving items.  The Bible lists these as well. They are listed earlier in Galatians 5:19;

The acts of the flesh are obvious: sexual immorality, impurity and debauchery; idolatry and witchcraft; hatred, discord, jealousy, fits of rage, selfish ambition, dissensions, factions and envy; drunkenness, orgies, and the like. I warn you, as I did before, that those who live like this will not inherit the kingdom of God.

I am convinced that God enabled me to be a business owner.  I could not have accomplished purchasing a business on my own accord or with my limited resources. So naturally I had a difficult time understanding why through prayers and fasting and blessings God was taking the business away from me so soon. I depleted all my strife inventory. I certainly had my fits of rage and shook my holy fists at God more than once. Through selfish ambition I tried desperately to hold on to something that was being taken from me. And on more than one occasion my blood alcohol count might have exceeded the legal limit while wallowing in despair in the midnight hours of my home. As I count the various items that one should never be giving away I find that some of these boxes have been emptied and others are shamefully low. Many elements of my personal inventory are reversed.  Like the Apostle Paul, those things I should have I am out of and those things I don’t need are in abundance.

What a blessing it is that with God you can start new inventory habits every single day.  Thankfully His memory is shorter than ours is. We can start each year, each quarter, even each day with a clean slate and fresh start.

Lamentations 3:23 says Great is his faithfulness; his mercies begin afresh each morning.

As you consider on this the last day of 2014 those things you want to achieve in 2015, your good inventory, and those things you wish to change, the bad inventory, prayerfully seek God in humility and ask Him to supply those items He deems necessary for the purpose He has for your life this year. Be prepared for trials-Christianity ain’t easy! But never forget that God forgets! Fresh everyday are the tools and the inventory He sets aside for you to accomplish his will in your life and to bring you through to complete peace and joy.  It’s a long learning process, longer for some of us than others, but well worth the lessons. And don’t forget to inventory your blessings along the way!

I prayerfully wish all of you a blessed, a peaceful and God fulfilled Happy New Year!

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The Heart is Compelled to Celebrate Christmas

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In just a few days the world will pause to remember the day when God the Son laid aside His Heavenly Kingship and entered into the world He created to set into motion the divine plan of redemption and reconciliation conceived from the beginning.  But sadly too many will get caught up in the wrappings of the holiday through business, through commercialization and even through religious debates as to the validity of our commemoration, and will completely miss out on the heart and the reasons we pause. Defense over “Merry Christmas” vs. “Happy Holidays” will stir indignation and false piety; the worn argument over leaving Christ in Christmas opposed to those who use Xmas; the ever aging debate over the pagan roots of the holiday and why like Halloween, “Real” Christians would never participate in such secular distractions.  I’m confident Christ is pleased at how diligently we defend Him and promote the model of love He displayed by coming into our world to save us from, well, us.

Christmas brings back so many joyful memories for me from my younger years, and most all of them center around the central figure of Christmas, the Christ Child. I can’t tell you the number of times I played Joseph in the annual church Christmas play.  I recall being part of a multi-level living Christmas Tree set up outside in the cold parking lot of an Indiana mall as we sang carols about none other than Jesus in near zero temps.  I remember as a teen in our youth group taking part in a Madrigal Dinner performance complete with costumes and yes, even tights (because back then I made tights fashionable for men).  I did the Santa thing with our kids and enjoyed every minute and memory made.  The snow, the songs, the plays, the animated Christmas displays downtown, the lights-all part of Christmas memories no one can take from me or diminish through theological orations of gross holiness infractions served up by some who are guilty of brutality through overbearing policing. We get through deeper study that the birth was most likely not a December event.  We understand that the shepherds being outside with the flock indicate a season other than Winter.  We know the timing of the Census and the calendar of Jewish festivals create doubt for a December nativity.  But are these things really essential on our choice and reasoning to remember?

Throwing off the wrappings, the controversy and the distractions, let us merely examine the wonder and the reason of the Incarnation of the Christ child on that Holy night. Jesus, the Word and creator of all things made according to John 1, saw His creation in turmoil. Mankind had perverted everything good about life.  Sin had separated us from Him and there was not enough time or livestock available for the continuing of sacrifices required according to Jewish custom to atone for our sinful ways. A promise had been made to never destroy the population as in the days of Noah, so a new covenant had to be established, one that was final, all inclusive and everlasting, and yet still meet the requirements of bloodshed. Enter Jesus-literally! The time was right and the need never greater. God’s entry into our planet was done in the most unusual, abnormal and uncharacteristic way possible.  He didn’t come into existence suddenly in the synagogue-He didn’t just appear before Kings and religious leaders. He picked a young teen aged girl from a city of poverty and disease and a man who had many of the same struggles we do today, fear, doubt, jealousy, weakness, to be the earthly vessel and parents of His Son. The news of his birth was not proclaimed to the rabbis in the temple-it was proclaimed to the shepherds, the outcasts of society, the indispensable protectors of flocks from wild predators who had little family or means.  Jesus didn’t come with prenatal care in a lavish facility worthy of  king’s birth, but rather a holding stable for animals-the local kennel if you will for all the visiting guests from other countries who had converged on Bethlehem that night. But in that blessed event is the fulfillment of all the carols we sing to this day recalling His birth. “Long lay the world in sin and error pining til He appeared”. “Peace on earth and mercy mild-God and sinner reconciled”. “Come and behold Him, born the king of ages”. “Whom angels greet with anthems sweet while shepherds watch are keeping”. The plan was set into motion.

While we rejoiced, God the Father was broken, knowing that in the blink of an eye this baby boy so innocently portrayed in a manger would be maliciously beaten and scourged and left to die on the Roman cross of crucifixion. In order for the perpetual sacrifice to be made for us, God had to become one of us-the Word becomes flesh and lives among us. The Lamb of God was born only to die. The virgin birth secured His separation from all things sinful so that He who knew no sin, could become the flawless sacrifice-the lamb without any blemish, to die blameless just as he was born. There was no other way for us to be restored to our creator because of our sin, than through the death and blood of one of us who was perfect-Jesus the Christ child. It was truly a cradle to the grave implementation of a divine plan by which we would be forgiven, redeemed, restored and made spotless before Him who made us.  At last we who were made in His image could once again appear like Him, reconciled into the lineage of Christ. We sing “Glory to the newborn king” so that we can sing “my sin, oh the joy of this glorious thought-my sin not in part but the whole, is nailed to the cross and I bear it no more”! This my friends is Christmas!

I am a wretched man, like Joseph, who struggles with pride, impatience, temptation-living everyday in a sinful world. The message of Christmas is that He who knew me before I was conceived made provisions for my shortcomings and afforded me forgiveness, salvation and everlasting life with Him in a kingdom yet to come, and it all started on that first Christmas morning 2000 years or so ago in Bethlehem, whatever night it was. You’re damn right I’m going to celebrate it-I’m going to sing songs about it-I’m going to enjoy a special church service to reflect on it-I’m going to have my family over and share in a great feast and offer up prayers in remembrance of it and even exchange gifts, remembering that the greatest gift of all was given freely on that first Holy night to all who choose to receive it. There are lights on my house, angels on my tree, a nativity in our family room, and Christmas shows on the TV. I will live according to the book of Romans knowing that some keep certain days as more holy than others but all being acceptable when done to the glory of God.  My only regret is that we only mark one day each year to remember the essence of our faith.  If it were left to me the lights would never come down, the carols would never cease and the magic and joy felt in December would never diminish in January. “For unto us a savior is born-unto us a Son is given, and He is called Jesus”.

It is my heartfelt wish and fervent prayer that my family, my kids, my grand kids and friends find in their hearts this season the wonder and the joy and the core of all things Christmas, and that they make merry in full acknowledgement of the hope born to us on that special night.

Merry Christmas to all!

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Oh Holy Night-an Unlikely Composition Makes History

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All who know me know that Christmas is my absolute favorite time of the year. Being a native of the snowy mid-western state of Indiana I cherish the memories and traditions of Christmas past and have tried my best to create similar memories for our family in Las Vegas, sans the snow and cold temps. For me Christmas was always ushered in by the seasonal carols-I knew the holiday was close when the radio began playing Joy to the World, White Christmas, Silver Bells, Silent Night, and all the carols that have survived through the decades.  But no carol moves me to this day more so than Oh Holy Night. Of all the carols this song does more to transport me back to what must have been a magical night all over the earth as God the Son and Creator became flesh to dwell among us. This carol has been covered by the best voices in the world, each adding their own touch, from Celine to Groban to Crosby, and my favorite, Transiberian Orchestra.  There is no carol that sets the mood for Christmas among believers more than Oh Holy Night.

What many people don’t know is how God orchestrated the most unlikely characters and unusual circumstances in the composition of this song.  The lyrics were written by a man who would later walk away from the church to join the socialist party, and the music by a Jewish man who did not believe in Jesus the Messiah.  I was fascinated when I first read this story.

Placide Cappeau was a well known poet and commissioner of wines in France but not so well known as a church attender.  It was in 1847 that the priest of his parish asked him to compose a poem of religious origin that would be appropriate for Christmas Mass. Cappeau relied on texts from the Gospel of Luke and his imagination of what that blessed night must have been like and penned the words to Cantique de Noel on a stage coach ride to Paris. Upon its completion, Cappeau was so moved by his own composition that he decided these words should be put to music but music was not his strength.  So he called upon his good friend Adolphe Charles Adam, equally well known for his musical compositions.  Adolphe was Jewish. It was miraculous how the words to Cappeau’s poem moved Adam so much that he composed perhaps the most beloved and recognizable hymn about an event he did’t celebrate and personally didn’t believe in. Oh Holy Night, words by a socialist and music by a Jew!

The score was performed for Mass just three weeks later and quickly accepted across France.  However its fame was short lived as Cappeau joined the Socialist Party and the Catholic Church discovered that a Jew composed the music.  Oh Holy Night was banned for lack of content and musical taste for decades after, that is until John Sullivan Dwight, a struggling Unitarian minister and publisher of Dwight’s Journal of Music found the words and was moved by the composition.  You see, Dwight was an abolitionist and when he saw the lyrics, “for the slave is our brother”, he was inspired. It was Dwight who translated the lyrics into English and first introduced it to America.  But wait, there’s more!

In 1906, six decades after the song was composed by the most unlikely sources, another miracle was about to take place. The alternator-trasmitter had recently been developed allowing voice to be transmitted to ships and newspaper publishers by radio waves produced as a result of the high spinning alternator. Radio pioneer Reginald Fessenden, a former employee for Thomas Edison, first tested this new radio device by reading the first few verses from the Christmas story as recorded in the Gospel of Luke chapter two. Fessenden, also a musician, then picked up his violin and played Cantique de Noel, Oh Holy Night!  This beloved Christmas carol made history and is acknowledged as the very first song ever broadcast over radio, and all at the hands of a socialist, a Jew, a failed Unitarian minister and an Anglican through the orchestration of events by an all inclusive God!  Awe inspiring and yet, not at all surprising-He is after all, God!

Christmas is all about inclusion, and in light of recent events revolving around police actions and injustices, what a better time to reflect on the commonalities of our races and status and not the differences. Dwight, being a witness to the evils of slavery, fell in love with the lyric “change shall He bring for the slave is our brother, and in His name all oppression shall cease“. Paul would write in Galatians that “there is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, male nor female, for we are all one in Christ”.  You see, if you read the story carefully you will see that the young are represented by Mary, thought to be no more than fourteen years old when she gave birth, and the old are represented by Simeon, who would die shortly after seeing his Messiah. The rich are represented by the Wise men from the east bearing gifts for the Savior, and the poor by Jesus own parents who could barely afford doves for their sacrifice at the temple. The women are represented by the Theotokos, Mary, the bearer of God and her cousin Elizabeth who bore John the Baptist, while the men are represented by Joseph, a hard working everyday man chosen by God to be the earthly father of Jesus. And the outcast are represented by the shepherds, the lowest of the low deemed indispensable enough to guard the flocks against bears and other predators. This was God’s plan all along-unity through love and a common hope and equal inheritance.  We are to blame for creating the racial, societal and even the religious divisions among us. God’s gift of His son was to unite us and reconcile all of us, each different but all the same in Christ, to Him.

So this Christmas season, when you hear or sing this beautiful and beloved hymn Oh Holy Night, I want to challenge you to consider each other as you sing, the poor, the homeless, the black or the white, the Republican or Democrat, the Catholic, Orthodox, Protestant and Atheist, the immigrant-those who would never come to mind normally, and imagine a time and a place two thousand years ago when the world for one night was at peace and as one as they ushered in with great celebration and Holy awe the creator of us all, the Christ child Jesus.  Surely, it must have been one holy night!  When you do, I can promise you that the spirit of Christmas past present and to come will dwell richly within you and the world around you will seem just a little less hostile, and each other a little less different.  God Bless you and Merry Christmas.

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Thou Shalt Love thy Neighbor,,,Unless

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Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I expect too much. Maybe I’m too idealistic, or as my black brothers have often implied, I just don’t get it because I’m white. So I went to the local Christian bookstore to buy the White Bible.  Couldn’t find it-maybe they were just out of stock,  So I looked instead for the Black Bible. Same thing. I asked the clerk to check stock for me and she laughed at me. “I’ve never heard of the Black or White Bible”, she exclaimed. “Why would you believe there was such a thing”, she asked. “There has to be”, I replied. “We aren’t all reading the same thing”.

My heart aches over the rhetoric of hatred being spewed on both sides of the recent Ferguson shooting. I’m not shocked by the violence of those who don’t live a lifestyle of brotherly love.  Hell, cities burn when a major Sports Championship is won. What saddens me most is how some of the religious leaders have, in lieu of taking a stand against hate and reminding their congregations of the words of Christ, turned their pulpits into platforms that have only served to widen the barriers between races. Love thy neighbor, unless they are a cop, unless they have a different skin color, unless they have more money or drive a nicer car or attend the wrong church or have the wrong political sign in their yard. I’m amazed at the disclaimers we have added to God’s word because surely He must have accidentally left them out.  In many of my dialogues with my black Christian brothers, many of whom are clergy, I have been relegated to an unsympathetic and out of touch white man who couldn’t possibly understand discrimination or challenges because of the color of my skin.  There will always exist an element of racism and hatred because of sin-I can’t deny the ugly existence of racism and I would never intentionally dismiss as foolish the incidents made known to us that display blatant racist behavior. But to dismiss my concerns because I’m too white to understand is by very definition, racist. I too have had my share of issues because of the color of my skin.  While I don’t wish to draw comparisons, allow me to share some of my experiences.

I grew up on the west side of Indianapolis during the onset of bussing kids into school districts for racial balance in the 60’s and 70’s. I was always the tallest white boy in the school, so naturally I became a target to the blacks who wanted to show superiority, especially since I was, well close, to their girlfriends. On a specific day it was made known to me that I was going to “get me ass kicked” after school off premises.  I asked a few of my closer friends to have my back but all declined. True to their word I was jumped about 4 blocks from the school by a gang of black schoolmates wielding bricks, masonry blocks and belts. When the police arrived I was put into the back of the squad car because I appeared to be the aggressor.  I also took the blunt of the punishment by the school because an example of “fairness” to the entire community needed to be displayed.

In High School I was the starting center on our basketball team and third leading scorer. I lived and breathed basketball.  In my Junior year I was cut from the squad and replaced by a black student who couldn’t dribble out the side of his mouth or hit one free throw out of 20 attempts, because the Catholic school needed to show some “diversity” on the squad and to the teams we played on our schedule. I was devastated and to this day remember the feelings of being cut to make room for someone else because of skin color.

In my early adult years I had decided to pursue my dream of becoming a police officer in Indy.  The testing process was hard but I studied and passed the test with flying colors, only to be informed I wasn’t going to be accepted.  Chin up, I took the test again when open hiring was announced. Same scores, same results.  I went through this process one more time only to be told by the recruiting officer that I was wasting my time. Affirmative Action required that racial quotas be established in law enforcement departments and that I, being white, did not stand a chance of being hired as a result. Once again I was discriminated against due to my skin color-sounds familiar.

Upon moving to Las Vegas with my young family we rented an apartment on what turned out to be the wrong side of the city. We always tried to look out for our three sons.  I was informed that there was a drug pusher working the apartments giving out free drugs to kids and teens.  One day I spotted them, just feet from our oldest son and I gave chase to them, a truck load of blacks who in turn fired back at me with loaded handguns. Luckily for me their aim was much like that of many metro officers-they missed.

Most recently as a business owner in Las Vegas dealing with the largest gaming corporations in the world I was once again discriminated against in bidding on large contracts.  Seems just like I experienced in the 80’s, racial diversity needed to be displayed in vendor selection, and even though I had the best products, the best pricing and established relationships, my company was overlooked in favor of minority owned companies. I was too white.

Are these fair comparisons-maybe, maybe not.  What is common is that I was targeted because of the color of my skin and have legitimate reasons to be biased because of that discrimination.  The difference is that I have not let these incidents define me or my character.  Am I just a good Christian-hardly.  Most who know me will say I’m a gentle giant but my wife will tell you I’m an angry and impatient man with many issues. But I can’t escape my knowledge of the things written in scripture that deal with love, hate and true faith. Regardless of your individual life experiences, the Word of God is very straight forward and transparently clear when it comes to love and forgiveness:

1 John 4:20 ESV 

If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen.

1 John 3:15 ESV 

Everyone who hates his brother is a murderer, and you know that no murderer has eternal life abiding in him.

Leviticus 19:17 ESV 

“You shall not hate your brother in your heart, but you shall reason frankly with your neighbor, lest you incur sin because of him.

John 13:34-35 ESV 

A new commandment I give to you, that you love one another: just as I have loved you, you also are to love one another. By this all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.”

1 John 2:9 ESV 

Whoever says he is in the light and hates his brother is still in darkness

 

“But Joe, you don’t know what we’ve been through.  You can’t understand how I feel and how I’ve been wronged”.  Well maybe you are right.  All I can do is defer to Scriptures regarding forgiveness.

 

Ephesians 4:32 ESV 

Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you.

Mark 11:25 ESV 

And whenever you stand praying, forgive, if you have anything against anyone, so that your Father also who is in heaven may forgive you your trespasses.”

Matthew 6:15 ESV 

But if you do not forgive others their trespasses, neither will your Father forgive your trespasses.

Matthew 18:21-22 ESV 

Then Peter came up and said to him, “Lord, how often will my brother sin against me, and I forgive him? As many as seven times?” Jesus said to him, “I do not say to you seven times, but seventy times seven.

Luke 6:27 ESV 

“But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you,

Colossians 3:13 ESV 

Bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.

Luke 6:27-36 ESV 

“But I say to you who hear, Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you. To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also, and from one who takes away your cloak do not withhold your tunic either. Give to everyone who begs from you, and from one who takes away your goods do not demand them back. And as you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.

 

Maybe my friends are right about me.  Perhaps I’m too naive in my beliefs that Christians should be the torch bearers that heal racism instead of the fuel that keeps the flames of racism burning bright. Maybe the deep seed of prejudice is just too much for the common man to overcome, even in Christ. And most assuredly there is too much water under the bridge of racism to believe that somehow some way Christians can begin to live in a Kingdom fashion while still inhabitants of earth. But of all the words that have been used to describe me, stubborn stands out.  I will continue to hope for better, pray for better, live for better and speak up for better while it is within me to do so. None of us can play God, but none of us can deny God’s words or His commands because our life experiences justify our disobedience. Christianity isn’t a black or white man’s religion, but God’s word is clearly Black and White. Peace.

 

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For These and All Thy Blessings…

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It is sad to me that the traditions and celebrations of Thanksgiving have been folded into the Christmas holiday and has lost its uniqueness in many aspects. We are all guilty.  Each year I debate over whether or not to have the Christmas tree up and the house decorated in time for the Thanksgiving gathering.  We use the occasion to discuss the details of Christmas, who’s hosting, who’s buying gifts for who, what the menu should be, etc. Don’t get me wrong-I absolutely LOVE Christmas and all it means to me, and am an advocate of making Christmas last all year.  But the beauty of Christmas begins with an appreciation and an understanding of the incarnation of Christ, and that epiphany should be ushered in with great Thanksgiving and rejoicing rather than Black Thursday shopping deals.

Perhaps the older I get the more reflective I become. Or maybe it’s a maturity of faith that sheds a greater light on just how blessed we are as a people and as a church, that with all our faults we can be referred to as Children of God. In the midst of all our struggles, in view of all our differences, in spite of the divisions and barriers of our own making, we still have more to be grateful for than we could ever express in the short time allotted us here on earth. This is the week we look back on where we’ve been, what we’ve endured and what we are left with, and raise our voices to say Thanks God. So in the spirit of the day, I have a list of my own. I trust you do as well.

*I don’t have perfect health-I’m out of shape and maybe just a little overweight, yet God has granted  my fifty three years of a good life. 

*I experienced a painful divorce long ago but God blessed me with an angel that I’ve been with now  for eighteen years.

*Our kids aren’t perfect-they are all alive and doing well and a blessing to our family.

*Our grand kids are perfect! They can’t comprehend how precious they and their love is to us. 

*I lost a business this year-painful, but ended up in a perfect situation orchestrated by God alone. 

*Our house needs repair and updating but our home is strong and blessed and welcoming.

*We have to drive twenty miles to and from work. In twenty two years in Las Vegas we’ve never been      involved in any serious accidents. 

*Our church isn’t perfect because we attend there. But we found a home where we can mature and be a  blessing as we grow up in our faith and salvation.

*Our country is not what it used to be but we are still free to disagree, free to pursue happiness, free  to worship as we please, free to peacefully demonstrate and free to move about in relative safety.

*I’m not wealthy by the world’s standards, but I couldn’t ask for anything more than I have. What price  can a man give in exchange for his soul?

I love  Psalm 103 taken from the Message Bible.  It drives home the point, lest we forget, of just how truly blessed we are by God.

 O my soul, bless God.
    From head to toe, I’ll bless his holy name!
O my soul, bless God,
    don’t forget a single blessing!

 He forgives your sins—every one.
    He heals your diseases—every one.
    He redeems you from hell—saves your life!
    He crowns you with love and mercy—a paradise crown.
    He wraps you in goodness—beauty eternal.
    He renews your youth—you’re always young in his presence.

As high as heaven is over the earth,
    so strong is his love to those who fear him.
And as far as sunrise is from sunset,
    he has separated us from our sins.
As parents feel for their children,
    God feels for those who fear him.

What can anyone add to that?  What more can we ask for in order to be grateful-we already have it all!

There is just one more thing I’m grateful for this year. Since I was a young kid in school I’ve always loved to write.  Now through the technology of social media I am a blogger, writing each week about my experiences as a man striving, sometimes unsuccessfully, to live the Christian faith. The greatest praise one can receive is for another to want to hear what you have to say.  I am but one of countless millions of internet bloggers contributing to the ever growing blogosphere each week. If five of you wanted to follow me and my posts, I’d be truly blessed and would feel like I was making a positive contribution to your state. However I have a few more than five.  To have your posts read by those in countries like the UK and Italy and the Netherlands is humbling beyond words. I am thankful for each of you who have chosen to follow papaswords.com since its onset, and for those who have shared the posts and offered comments and critique. My prayer is that you find commonality in our struggles, our doubts, our fears and our victories as we live out our faith in a world unfriendly and sometimes even hostile toward the Gospel. You are among my greatest blessings-a heartfelt Thank You. May God bless you and your family with joy, laughter, memories and a revelation of these and all thy blessings!

Papa Joe

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Eye Has Not Seen…

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It is called by many names, the city where I reside.  It is most commonly known as Sin City. Not sure why we get that exclusive title with the implication that other cities are sin-free.  Maybe it’s that whole ‘what happens here stays here’ campaign. Some call it Lost Wages after a weekend of losing money in casinos where the House usually wins. Some know us as the City of Lights because of millions of colored lights always on display down the Strip.  Some have referred to us as the city that never sleeps, although we share that title with at least one other city.  However you refer to us, you can’t deny we are one unique metropolis known around the world as the number one party destination.

I moved here from Indiana and have been here almost twenty-two years now.  Personally I can take it or leave it.  To come for a weekend visit one can get lost in the twenty-four hour culture of lights, gaming and entertainment.  There is literally something here for everyone-yes, everyone.  If it exists, it can be purchased here.  It’s a town built as an adult playground with each property trying to outdo another to capture the tourist attention and revenue. Nothing is too big, too extravagant or too expensive here if it leads to gaming revenue.  Just consider some of these lesser known facts about Las Vegas.

*Fifteen of the world’s twenty-five largest hotels by room count are located here on the strip, and     represent 62,000 rooms.

     *There are a total of well over 150,000 rooms here between the Strip and downtown Las Vegas.  On most major holidays, we are sold out!  

     *We have an average of over 40 million visitors come to Las Vegas annually.

     *It is estimated that there are over 15,000 miles of neon tubing just on the strip.

     *The beam from the Luxor is one of two man made features that can be seen from space, with over 1 million candle power light.

*The Venetian-Palazzo has over 8000 rooms alone. Yes we build it big.

Las Vegas is in the middle of nowhere, the high and dark desert.  I do have to admit that driving in to Las Vegas at night from out of town is breathtaking. We are surrounded by mountains so the two major roads leading in from the north or from the south are secluded from seeing the city until you reach the apex of the terrain.  On either of the routes at night you feel like you are driving through an eternal tunnel of darkness until you reach that point where the road clears the hills and suddenly, laid out before you is this spectacular blanket of sparkling lights that looks like Oz.  As far as the eyes can see there are lights and a glow that against the desert black night is hard to put into words.  After all these years of living here I’m still impressed when I see the lights of the city at night.  It is like strings of colored diamonds laid out on a black velvet spread.

I’m certainly not trying to impress you with our fair city-I’m laying out a backdrop for something far greater than even this for the believer. I have seen some beautiful places and visited some of God’s best works of creation.  As awestruck as I have been in these places there is coming a day when these places will be no more. Jesus, creator of our universe and all that is in it, told hid disciples “I’m going away to prepare a place for you”. We aren’t told where this new place or heaven is.  We are only given a glimpse of how spectacular our new home will be.  1 Corinthians reads this:

“It is Written that the eye has not seen and the ear has not heard, nor has it entered into the heart of man the things which God has prepared for those who love him.”

When I saw Las Vegas for the first time I could not imagine a place more spectacular.  But this city can’t compare with God’s city, our new home.  The Bible gives us some clues as to what we can expect.

Revelation 21:18-19; “The material of the wall was jasper; and the entire city was like pure gold, like clear glass.  The foundation stones of the city wall were adorned with every kind of precious stone.”

Verse 21; “And the twelve gates were twelve pearls, with each gate being made of one single pearl, and the streets of the city were pure gold, like clear glass.”

Revelation 22;1; “The angel showed me the river of the water of life, bright as crystal, flowing from the throne of God and the Lamb.”

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I have quite the imagination but I can’t fathom pure gold being used for building materials and paving! Nor can I fathom the size of the oyster that produced a pearl large enough to create a city gate!  The things we count as precious and valuable here in our earthly quest for riches and success and portfolio security will be common and ordinary in our new home, putting even Las Vegas to shame.  But even more spectacular than this is the promise of what life will be like.

Revelation 21;3-4; “And I heard a great voice out of Heaven saying ‘Behold the tabernacle of God is with men, and He will dwell with them and they shall be His people, and God Himself shall be with them and be their God. And God will wipe away all tears from their eyes; and their will be no more death, now any sorrow, nor crying; neither will there be any more pain, the all the former things (that we are accustomed to here on earth) will be no more.”

Now, I’m impressed! I truly believe that God never grants us complete satisfaction or contentment here on earth so that we will be constantly looking forward and yearning for that which our eyes have not seen and our ears have not heard of, but our spirits have confirmed for those who love God and live lives committed to Christ the Lamb!

There was a popular movie out years back titled Heaven Can Wait.  What a farce! I can’t wait for Heaven!

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It Takes Balls-Golfing and Christianity

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It takes balls to golf the way I do-lots of them!  When often asked what my handicap is, without a thought I tell them-Golf!  I love to play, even if only once or twice a year.  There is a sane madness in trying to knock a small ball into a hole located four hundred yards away with a club that has a mind of its own. There is no more humbling sport to an otherwise natural athlete than the game of golf.  If you don’t believe that watch one of the Pro Ams sometime when pro athletes team up with pro golfers-it can be amusing to see a millionaire athlete shank a shot into a tree or worse, a spectator. And there may be no other sport in which the name of God is evoked more often!

I find that the tiniest of sand traps appear to be the Mojave Desert from the tee, and the smallest of water hazards may as well be Lake Superior. No matter how hard I try to avoid them, they become magnetic fields seeking small white round objects with a force much greater than my aim. This past week my son turned thirty so I thought it would be fun to do something memorable for the occasion.  I took him and his younger brother, neither of whom had played on a golf course before.  I was wise enough to reserve the last tee time so as not to be a hindrance to players behind us.  They would have been playing through us on every other hole. Being the experienced golfer I was I went first and drove a beautiful drive that landed right down the middle of the fairway-that is the fairway of the adjacent hole we weren’t playing. I haven’t sliced like that since I was a meat cutter on the west side of Indianapolis. Being the great leader I am the boys followed suit and we all agreed after the first hole that keeping score was not going to be beneficial to our esteem. But they will never forget how we celebrated a milestone birthday!

I have been a Christian much longer than I have been a golfer, but I wonder sometimes what my true spiritual handicap would be considering my game. There are those times when I feel like I could knock it in the hole from five hundred yards away-I feel blessed, I feel like I’m walking upright and doing the things I need to be doing to develop my Christian game.  And then there are those days when I knock it on the green only to three or four putt-nothing seems to be working.  The harder I try the worse my score and the greater my handicap.  I’m sure each of us if truly honest could say much the same thing.

I know in my life those things that are to me sand traps or water hazards-the things I need to avoid that draw me in.  But just like on a golf course, seeing and recognizing hazards does not always equate to staying out of them.  The harder you try the more balls you lose-the deeper the trap the closer to the edge you land, making it impossible to hit your way out of it. And even if you are fortunate enough to avoid the hazards on your way to eventually hitting onto the green, the cup can appear to be nearly the same size as the ball, much like the hoop and over-sized basketball at a traveling carnival-impossible to sink.

Unlike golf, God has given us an unlimited amount of mulligans in the form of grace.  He knows my game and that left to my own ability, I could never finish the course.  He doesn’t make the drives any straighter or the hazards any smaller-He doesn’t make the cup the size of a crater like that commercial on TV.  He just doesn’t keep track of how many strokes it takes us to sink it-He’s pretty forgiving that way!  And with God, those who finish well under par and those who, well don’t, receive the same prize at the end of the day-the victor’s crown of life to those who remain faithful and remain in the game, even with soggy sand filled shoes to show for it.

The Apostle Paul said “I have finished the course”.  He too must have been a golfer.  Paul gets me.

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Halloween-the Eighth Deadly Sin

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The beauty of owning your own blog is the freedom of opining without apologies on certain controversial issues.  Yours is a choice to read, agree and share or cast stones and pray for my soul.  Either works for me-why should the kids have all the fun on Halloween?

It happens this time each year.  As parents of young children contemplate how to dress their young ghouls up for the traditional night of begging for candy, the do-good keepers of the faith and all that is holy come out on social media and proclaim with mighty shouts of condemnation the evils of celebrating a time-honored festival. Young Christian families, wanting to honor God and train their children up correctly while not depriving them of one of the rites of childhood are caught in a dilemma.  Guilted by the pressure to disavow themselves of any acknowledgement of such an evilly rooted pagan ritual, they bow out of all observances of Halloween much to the dismay of little Frankenstein and adorable Snow White, and the legalistic overseers of Christendom wring their hands and give glory to God for another backslidden lost soul that has been snatched from the fire.

I suppose by now you may know where I’m going with this. So while the Pharisees are preaching to you about All Hallows Eve, let’s examine a few facts, just for the record.  The term “Halloween” dates back to 1754 and is, hold on to your seats, of CHRISTIAN origin! It is a Scottish term meaning holy evening. It is an evolved term from older English that refers to the night or eve of a Christian holy day, All Hallows Day on Nov. 1 and All Saints Day Nov. 2, in commemoration of all the departed souls through death and martyrdom.  While fundamentalists will try to link this holiday back to the Roman observance of Parentalia, or festival of the dead, it is more typically and easily traced back to the Celtic Festival of Samhain,or Summer’s end.  But the posted theories of Halloween’s beginnings are so numerous that even scholars can’t easily agree with it’s birth or original intent. Sadly many won’t do the research to come up with their own understanding of the roots and origins of Halloween but will instead treat as gospel all they hear from the legalistic protectors of the church, the same that lead you to believe similar heresies about Christmas and Easter observances. What’s important to the young mom struggling with this decision is not how it originated 1000 years ago, but what it represents today and how you share it with your children.

I have fond memories of Halloween as a boy.  Our parents had many hard times due to labor strikes, etc, so money was not always abundant. Most years I recall putting on one of my dad’s over sized shirts around me and a pillow to look like a little rascal street bum.  The pillowcase from the pillow served as my treat bag and I was pretty good at filling it up. Unlike today, in the 60’s every house was lit up as the homeowners anticipated what creative costumes the new year would provide. There was nothing evil, sinister, dark or demonic about the holiday.  I might add that my parents were strict Full Gospel at the time and saw nothing wrong with the way we observed the night. Our neighbor would host a Halloween party for the kids on the block (not the musical group) complete with treats, scary stories and a buffet of gruesome finger foods (brains, heart, intestines) made from simple ordinary foods.  We had to partake blind folded for the shock value.  An amazing thing happened-I lived and am not possessed (usually).  I even went on to a brief time of pastoral ministry.

As a young father I couldn’t wait to take our boys out and introduce them to the same childhood ritual I had partaken in many years before.  We would take them house to house and then gather as a community for one large block party at the rec center. Not one time in all my observances did I feel the Holy Spirit convict me of honoring evil influences.  One of my fondest memories as a Christian teen was our Youth group’s annual trip to a haunted house in Indy called Scream in the Dark, an AG church sponsored function. There is still within me that part that likes the thrill and suspense of the holiday. I never morphed into an evil ogre or dreamed of releasing sadistic rituals on the unsuspecting. I wasn’t hypnotized by watching scary movies and I didn’t have nightmares of Sleepy Hollow (Freddie and Michael hadn’t been born yet).

So it begs to question-can the evil forces that constantly plague our souls for control use Halloween as a conduit for warfare?  Absolutely! Can they do the same while watching an NFL game on TV?  Absolutely! Can Christ be honored at Halloween? Absolutely! “Whatever we do, do for the glory of God”. Churches have opened their facilities to host alternative celebrations or Trunk or Treat evenings. They have used this occasion as an opportunity for outreach to attract kids and families from their local communities to the existence and ministry of the church. It is not uncommon for an entire family who had not gone to church prior, to find a new church home as a result of these outreaches. Many in our faith will wrap small chocolate bars with scriptures they printed out and use the time as an opportunity to plant a small seed with the candy. Christian bookstores sell candy and gum already imprinted or wrapped with inspirational quotes or verses. Some just find a sheer joy in opening their homes up on Halloween and giving treats to kids just because.

Of course there will be those who take advantage of the night to perpetrate evil, as they would with any holiday. The night will only shed light on the evil that is already present.  Halloween doesn’t mysteriously bring evil to life like the immortal Michael Meyers.  He comes back more than an ex-wife for an alimony check. If as a believer in Christ you are genuinely confused about how or if to observe Halloween, seek God for peace in your spirit one way or another. Don’t bow at the feet of the Puritans words without doing your own soul searching on the matter.  If you ask me, the only evil of Halloween is the sinful amount of calories consumed as you raid your child’s treat bag!

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Only Eating the Good Stuff

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My wife and I live in Las Vegas, the all-you-can-eat buffet capital of the world!  An inexpensive but quality buffet is one of the oldest marketing tools employed by the local casinos to get customer in the door.  Always positioned near the rear of the casino the ploy is to get you to drop some coin as you pass a myriad of slot machines either on your way yo the buffet or on your way out after gorging yourself to the point of having to stop and take a break, conveniently on a stool by a slot machine.

We have our favorites based on location and offerings.  We seldom go right for the food but take a slow walk from end to end to see what the fare of the day is before beginning to fill our plate with only what we want. I’m big on pasta and can make a meal just at the Italian station.  I’m not a huge fan of oriental and might skip that station completely.  Plain steamed vegetables, you know, the one that are good for you, are not my favorite.  I prefer those that are loaded with extra goodies-bacon, cheese, cream, you get it.  and who can’t make a meal on just the dessert bar!  From pies to cakes to ice cream to fresh pastries to cookies to cobblers-oh just the thought!

How cool is it to go into such an eating establishment and go right to just the foods you enjoy the most and completely bypass those that you really don’t prefer or leave a bad taste in your mouth. We can overdose on sugar and carbs and leave out the important proteins and important nutrients needed for our health if we think they taste nasty.  This is ingrained in us in the baby stage.  I recall when our kids were infants we would mix sweet fruit with their vegetables just so they would eat them.  Bad habits carry over into adulthood.

As believers in Christ many of us are guilty of much the same approach to scripture.  There are literal thousands of Christian denominations in the world today because some place more emphasis on certain aspects of scripture and some completely disregard other aspects.  We have turned the Word into an all-you-can-eat but pick only what you like buffet.  We hand pick passages to support doctrines like picking food from an a la  carte menu.  Many groups lobby that certain part of scripture has become socially irrelevant to the times and must be ignored.  Others have stepped into the dangerous realm of suggesting the Word be changed or updated, something God warned against toward the end of the Book.

I have to be honest here and say that I’m blown away by Christians advocating and lobbying against God’s words with a puffed up arrogance and pride that would frighten most believers.  I’m grateful for the torn veil that allows me direct access to the throne of God, but when I approach him, I still know He is God and I tremble in reverence and awe.  I could never be so convinced in my beliefs to attempt to prove God wrong.  We are told two things in scripture-God is the same yesterday, today and forever, and that His Word will never pass away.  Who are we that we should treat the Bible the way we treat a buffet?

 Like the foods I shy away from, this post will most likely leave a bad taste in the mouths of some and may even be received as biased or hateful.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  As I was reading today in 1 John I came across the scripture that mentioned “snatching” some from the fire.  If you are one who believes that part of God’s law does not apply to you or that you are somehow above it, then maybe you need to be lovingly snatched from the fire.  You can’t eat mercy and grace but leave yourself deficient on forgiving; you can’t consume mass quantities of blessing but skip the suffering station; you can’t digest the Olsteen dessert bar but forgo the Mother Teresa meat station of works at the same time.

Ironically enough scripture is described in the New Testament as “meat” for mature believers.  Thank God the Word is indeed all you can eat and digest!  You just can’t skip the sections that don’t taste good!

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The Unfathomable Reality of Eternity

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Eternity. Unfathomable, inconceivable, inexplicable, uncontainable, incomprehensible, indescribable, infinitely unreasonable.  It’s a term that gets thrown about often without much thought-“I waited for what seemed like an eternity”; “they rode off into eternity”; “he passed on into eternity”.  It’s a theological term to those of the faith that brings great hope for us and great sorrow for those we hold dear who don’t share our faith.  It’s a mystical term because it represents something our limited experience can’t quite grasp even when serious attempts are made to do so.

It’s word origin simply means without beginning or end.  It is defined as a state in which time has no application, no meaning and no purpose; no tomorrows, no yesterdays, no next year.  It is that state into which the soul passes upon mortal death whose eternal condition is based on how the minuscule measure of time called life was lived.  Understanding eternity is not unlike trying to understand the scope of the unending universe.  It’s difficult because we use measurements for everything from recipes to weight to speed to time, and can’t wrap our minds around something being immeasurable or without limit.  Still I have attempted to put into terms we can understand how undefined eternity is.

If you were to combine the sands from every known desert and beach on the earth so that one of those grains of sand represented your life span, the remaining grains of sand would not be indicative of the measurable beginning of eternity. Similarly, if you could combine all the salt water oceans that cover the surface of the earth and somehow extract one molecule of salt from all the waters represented, the remaining molecules would not accurately represent the beginning of an eternal state. And if you could take every loud mouthed belligerent nagging wife or ex and give them all to one man for his entire lifetime, it still wouldn’t represent eternity, though some might argue it would be close!

Forever means forever. As Christians in the faith the thought that we will be with our Creator forever is comforting-it drives us and helps us keep the trials of this life in perspective in as much as we can see the big picture, though at times our vision may be temporarily blurred. There are a host of Biblical references to the notion of eternity that can bring us great pleasure as we anticipate the return of our Lord;

Psalm 23:6 Surely your goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life, and I will dwell in the house of the LORD forever

Lamentations 5:19 You, LORD, reign forever; your throne endures from generation to generation.

John 6:51 I am the living bread that came down from heaven. Whoever eats this bread will live forever. This bread is my flesh, which I will give for the life of the world.”

1 Thessalonians 4:17 After that, we who are still alive and are left will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air. And so we will be with the Lord forever

1 John 2:17 The world and its desires pass away, but whoever does the will of God lives forever.

The flip side of eternity brings with it much sorrow and grieves the hearts of those who long for their loved ones to accept the reality of the person of Jesus Christ as Lord eternal.  The story told for us in the Bible of the rich man and Lazarus gives implication that we may indeed be aware of those we shared life with but are not sharing eternity with.  It is very clear through scripture that there will be no sorrow or regret in Heaven but the suggestion that we will have an awareness of souls lost for eternity remains a possibility.

There exists particularly among the younger generations a sense of invulnerability.  And yet in this day with all the things happening around the world we know that no one is guaranteed tomorrow.  The workers who entered into the World Trade Center had no idea they would not be exiting that fateful day. The High School kids on the recent ship tragedy had no idea they were spending their last few precious moments on earth.  The young professional broad sided by a speeding car, the bartender caught in the crossfire of a gun fight, the athlete who collapses due to a previously unknown heart condition and on and on. No one knows for sure what the day brings and when our measurable mortal time ends and our unfathomable eternity begins.

James 4:13 gives us this warning:

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes.

A mist, a vapor, a puff of smoke that vanishes and is blown away by the wind-our mortal life and its temporal nature.  And yet the choices we make here in our measured span of time, our vapor, the way we live our lives and most importantly the way we handled the truth and reality of one Jesus Christ, our acceptance through faith or our denial through humanism, will ultimately determine the quality of our bliss or the horrors of our torment for all eternity.  This concept is even lost on the church at times.  We must get back to teaching the fundamental truth of eternity in as much as we can wrap our spiritual minds around it, for our sake and the eternal sake of those we love lest all be lost forever by our unwillingness to acknowledge what our minds can barely conceive.

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To Reach New Heights You Must Dive to New Lows

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I am completely fascinated by a video I viewed recently recorded by a team of biologists with  National Geographic. The Great Cormorant is a large majestic bird that lives high along the trees or cliffs near the ocean.  The cormorant lives off of eels and fish caught deep on the ocean floor.  Biologists attached a camera to the back of one of these big birds to study their eating habits and eventually posted it to YouTube.  The cormorant dove into the water and descended to a depth of over 150 feet, a level that would cause most humans to pass out without proper diving gear. The deeper the bird went the darker the waters became and it was hard at times to make out the video.  Upon reaching the ocean floor the cormorant actually walks the bottom looking for food, following his senses when it’s too dark to detect the surroundings, until it finds just what it wants to satisfy its craving.  When it catches its prey it swims back to the surface in record time and takes less than 10 seconds to decompress, at which time it enjoys the catch of the day.  The food source these birds rely on can only be found at the rocky bottom of the oceans where they live. Only by navigating deep ocean levels for its sustenance can it enjoy living high in the cliffs.

Earlier this year during my prayer time I asked God to take me to a new level of faith uncommon to the status quo of everyday Christendom. I asked this not to become better than others in the faith, but that I may have an uncommon revelation of who God is and who I could become through Him.  It sounded like a genuine request-I wasn’t asking for material blessings or a better life, just a deeper walk, expecting voices and visions and mountain top experiences.  The past year of my life has been the darkest, coldest, loneliest and most silent period of my Christian journey, one from which I have yet to completely emerge. If you have read my earlier posts like God in a Steel Cage or God’s Deafening Silence, you may have a clue to what this period has been like for me.  I have definitely sank to new spiritual lows in the process.

I discovered only what I think I already knew about God but I mistakenly gave Him permission to prove it to me.  So consider this fair warning if you are serious about your faith and tempted to ask God to do the same for you.  I had already learned about patience earlier.  Patience is NOT one of my spiritual gifts.  I don’t like lines, I don’t like being late, I will stand by the microwave counting the seconds for my instant oatmeal and all speed limits are merely suggestions.  I was only smart enough to know I needed more patience.  God didn’t grant me my request with a sprinkling of holy water or twenty Our Fathers. No, He put me in situations that demanded patience. I have to admit I firmly believe God finds humor at times in testing us-didn’t think it possible for God to be sadistic. He sent me fender benders on the only freeway out of my section of town that added thirty minutes of waiting.  He would send me to the shortest check out line at the store only to find it was either the line for training new cashiers who had no computer skills or the line with that person, you know the one, who finds every item in the store that has no price tag.  He would make me take the call from that customer you’ve taken care of successfully for years who goes ballistic when 50 of his 5000 brochures weren’t folded just right.  Ask and it shall be given thee-for reals!!!!

Given what I knew about the patience thing I should have expected as much from God when making my lofty request for a deeper experience.  But I wasn’t prepared for what happens when God gets serious.  I can only attempt to describe in words my spiritual journey this past year.  I liken it to the dark portion of a haunted house, minus the screams, you know that portion where there is total darkness and many built-in dead ends and sections where the floor underneath your feet gives way and you can’t find your way except by holding on to the shirt of the person in front of you, except I had no shirt to hold on to. Darkness, silence, no direction, no voices, no clues or hints of light to guide me, and decreasing confidence with every step, having nothing to lead me except for my knowledge of His Word, which I had to force myself to recall.  I had asked God to take me to new heights and He took me first to all time lows.

As Christians many of us have false conceptions of what our faith walk and life in Christ are to look like.  Through false teaching and itching ears we want to believe that our journey should be one of ease, one of peace and one of tangible Osteen type blessings where our healing is just around the corner and our favorite parking spot at the mall is just waiting for us to pull in and claim.  But without explanation or justification God allows the righteous to suffer illness and the nearest parking spot to be blocks away on a rainy day. Or perhaps we aren’t nearly that gullible and we realize that wanting to grow deeper in our faith requires that we be willing to endure situations too uncomfortable for us to eagerly choose on our own so that settling for mediocrity and the path of least resistance is preferred.  Given the options, I can certainly understand.  I felt and still feel at times like asking God what I did to cause these trials.  The irony is that God was in fact answering my request and honoring me by driving me to the ocean floor where I would find just what was needed to sustain me and allow me to live at a higher level.  It is the method God uses for all of us.  I can’t build muscle by looking at pictures of ripped men in magazines, but by going to the gym and tearing down the smaller muscles I have now through pain and exertion.

There is yet another bird that has recently been discovered that can fly at an altitude of over 21,000 feet over the Himalayas and at commercial airline heights.  I’m not sure if I want to soar that high, at least not yet.  For now I’ll settle for flying over the Smoky Mountains and a diet of food at my current altitude until I catch my breath.

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Spare the Rod and Other Misquotes

From my recent involvement on other threads this week let me state at the beginning that I realize how controversial and polarizing this topic has become due to recent new stories regarding the Adrian Peterson Child Abuse investigation. That said I have never been one to shy away from controversy, especially when based upon misinterpretation of Biblical passages.  So here we go.

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I am a firm believer that parents who love their children should correct them using appropriate measures that fit the offense and teach a lesson as to why the offense is harmful.  That includes when necessary spanking the buttocks with an open hand and never an object that leaves marks, cuts or bruises. I also believe discipline should NEVER be applied in a reactive moment of anger but in love in the way God corrects us.  God shows great love, mercy, patience and tenderness when He corrects us, and always for our benefit, never to release His revenge.

I’m also a believer, however, that Bible misinterpretation should be a misdemeanor punishable by no less means than that administered to an unruly child!  I am so weary of parents hanging the entirety of their parenting skills on five Proverbs misused to justify the beating and abuse of children.  While I have never supported efforts to relegate the Bible’s relevancy to social and modern times, there are some things that are Biblical that have been done away with due to the work of mercy and grace granted us by the one-time atonement for all sin by our Savior on the cross. For example, how many of us would be here today if the practice of stoning for sexual sin as read about in the Bible was still practiced today?

Here is my problem-either The Bible is wrong or we are guilty of gross negligence in our handling of The Word.  One of the five Proverbs often quoted to support caning a child says “beat the child, he will surely not die”.  Nothing could be further from the truth!  Consider the following disturbing statistics:

* 1640 children die each year from abuse or neglect

     * 80% of those deaths were unintentional or from mistreatment

     * 77% of the children were 3 years old or younger

     * 80% of the deaths were at the hands of one of their own parents

But the Bible clearly states they won’t die as a result of corporal discipline.  So how can this be? Either the Bible is in error or we are misapplying a passage in a harmful and negligent manner.  I tend to believe the Bible is inerrant so that only leaves one possibility.

Perhaps now that I’m a grandfather I’ve become too soft, or maybe I’m just now getting it right!  Last evening I attended my grandson’s football game and pulled into a parking spot a few minutes early.  While sitting there another car pulled in beside me-you know the ones-they can’t judge distance and park within a foot of your vehicle. Sure enough I felt and heard the sound of their door opening right into the side of my truck, which I have babied since buying it new.  I wanted badly to jump out and say something but for some reason just sat there a few minutes to see who got out of the back door that had just dented my truck. Mysteriously the door closed but I couldn’t see anyone until the mother took her by the hand and walked away.  The culprit was a little girl, maybe three years old with curly hair and the biggest eyes for her age.  She looked back at me as I sat there and then walked off.  How could I be mad at one so young-I was grateful God caused me to stand down. It just wasn’t that important anymore.

I loved my boys and can count on my two hands the number of times I may have spanked them collectively.  I can’t comprehend the anger directed toward young, still learning, tender-hearted children in the guise of “sparing the rod”.  I can’t buy the over-used argument that says “that’s just the way I was raised”.  If we are to use that as a defense then slavery would still exist, women wouldn’t be able to vote and men would have multiple wives and be protected by laws allowing them to spank them too!  At some point we need to as a society and as a Christian body of believers recognize the harm we are doing our children by the archaic means of punishment we dish out on them, causing them not to love us but to fear us.

Another argument often used says if we don’t discipline them someone else will, implying that harsh beatings save them from criminal behavior. But a study done on the NYC Penal system revealed just the opposite. Of all the adult felons serving time when the study was performed, nearly 70% of them stated they were severely beaten and disciplined as children and yet they are doing time for violent crime.  Something about this argument doesn’t add up either.

Here is a litmus test: if your child returned from a visit or a trip bearing similar marks that are left when you administer your discipline, would these marks be acceptable? If you can answer yes to this question, then you advocate child abuse-if you answer no, then you need to reevaluate the forms of discipline you incorporate on your children. Bruises, cuts, open wounds and any other marks that are still visible two days later are not representative of Proverbs 13:24. We need to lovingly correct our children and teach them and train them in ways that don’t leave permanent physical, emotional or psychological damage. Any other means is unacceptable and shame on us for using God’s word to justify this practice.

 

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Dancing With the Scars

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There is a popular reality television show that everyone is familiar with, even if they don’t watch it, called dancing with the Stars. The concept is to pair up professional dancers with known celebrities from the world of entertainment and sports who have little to no professional dance training and turn them into reasonable facsimiles of Ginger Rogers or Fred Astaire.  I watched with curiosity the first episode of this season because a NASCAR Driving legend, Michael Waltrip, was on the show and I wanted to see if he had moves on the dance floor that compared to his moves on a race track.  It became apparent within about ten seconds why he is a racing legend and not a dancing star.  In racing terms, he missed a gear on the start, was loose in the corners and tight exiting, had no grip and could not stay close enough to his dance partner to take advantage of the draft.  I don’t see him being a celebrity dancing judge anytime in this lifetime. The same can be said with many of the celebrities selected to appear on this show.

The title of this week’s blog is obviously a play on the title of the popular show.  Dancing in it’s truest form is an expression of joy and freedom, whether you can dance the waltz with grace or you are like me and do the Humpty Hump like a white boy at the club.  Most people enjoy cutting loose and letting your inhibitions go once the music comes on.  How many times have you seen people deep in conversation in a club suddenly jump to their feet and head to the floor proclaiming “that’s my groove!”.  There is a release that comes from personal expression, even if you have three left feet.  But for many dancing through life is a difficult task.  Present or past circumstances prevent one from feeling totally free. Scars from previous episodes are too painful to dance through.  Those scars may represent the emotional wounds of silent depression, bitter divorces, physical or mental abuse, addictions that still haunt you, rejection by those close to you-there are an unlimited number of traumas that leave scars in our lives that may not be evident to everyone but are real just the same.  Those scars are sometimes like heavy chains weighing one down to the point that freedom of any joyful expression is nearly impossible and like Michael Waltrip, awkward at best.

In my life I have felt the pain of divorce, lived through the destruction of alcoholism, suffered the devastation of total loss of fire, dealt with serious illness-all things that can shake a person’s faith to the core. Joining in to the dance of life with joy is not always easy.  There tends to be a hesitation or even a fear that any joy expressed will be temporary as you are always expecting something else to come your way and add another scar.  And in the deepest and darkest times of despair, you even question the willingness of God to sustain or restore you.  The enemy convinces you that your scars are ugly before God and that even He won’t look upon you because they are repulsive.  When God delays His responses to your urgent beseeching, you wonder if maybe the enemy is right.  Job must have felt this when God removed His hand of protection and blessing from him, leaving him literally scarred and in a heap of ashes.  Listen to his words found in Job 10;

18 “‘Why, then, did you deliver me from my mother’s womb?
    Why didn’t you let me die at birth?
19 It would be as though I had never existed,
    going directly from the womb to the grave.
20 I have only a few days left, so leave me alone,
    that I may have a moment of comfort
21 before I leave—never to return—
    for the land of darkness and utter gloom.
22 It is a land as dark as midnight,
    a land of gloom and confusion,
    where even the light is dark as midnight.’”

Remember if you know this story that just a few chapters earlier the Bible describes Job as not only a righteous man, but says that in all the earth there was no one else like him!  Job was the standard for Godly living for his time.  How quickly and completely was his destruction and how deep the scars inflicted, that the most wealthy and righteous man on the face of the earth could so easily question everything he believed about God because of the overwhelming circumstances he found himself in, through no real fault of his own. His kids were destroyed while they were dancing-Job had no more desire to dance.

How many of us have been there in our lives, or maybe you are reading this and going through a similar stage even now?  We become self-conscious of our scars and reluctant to show them.  Reluctance can lead to isolation and from there to depression and hopelessness. We shun dance floors. What is our answer?  Here is the solution, at least as best as I can put into words that carry some truth. Our feelings of despair, our awareness of the ugliness of our scars and our repulsion to others and to God, as real as they may feel, are a FALSE SELF PERCEPTION!  How do we know this to be true?  It’s simple.  Scripture tells us over and over and over again that GOD LOVES US! There is no shortage of passages that refer to God delighting in our existence, in God accepting us as we are, in God forgetting our sins and removing our scars as far as the east is from the west!  God relishes contriteness, brokenness, disillusionment, all manner of emotional suffering and reaffirms that nothing in our life, our past, nothing in Heaven or earth, nothing we’ve done or could ever do can ever separate us from or change the level of God’s love for us.  God sees our scars as beauty marks, as evidence of battles we’ve endured and lived to tell about.  We are encouraged to dance through the pain like no one is watching, to sing out loud even if we miss the notes and to live life as a celebration of the uniqueness of our experiences-to DANCE WITH THE SCARS!

Don’t miss out on life because of your inability to put steps together.  No one is judging or voting on our elimination. Don’t fear the freedom of joyous expression as you live your life, scars and all!

On a personal note, many of you have opted to follow my weekly blog.  There are millions of us doing this-I am deeply honored that you follow mine.  I welcome feedback and certainly all referrals to your friends and family if you like what we put out each week as we attempt to exhort you to living your faith in real life.  God bless you all!

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The Fall of the Divided Church

If a house is divided against itself the house can not stand

Mark 3:25

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I must state that my heart aches a bit as I write this because it involves family, the church.  All of us hold close ties to our families and we find our identity in the heritage and legacy of our family names.  This could not be more true for our universal and eternal church family.  To see us suffering is heart breaking.

Social media has afforded many of us a platform which can be used as a positive or negative influence. It is highly public and closely followed yet individually private so that one can speak freely without fear of anything more than a few critical comments or sad faced emoticons. This type of freedom has led many to spew forth previously held deep seeded opinions in the name of Christ that are hurtful and divisive. And there has been no lack of opportunity due to recent events to show the world just how divided the church family can be at times.  The Ferguson situation has shed light on the real and shameful racial divisions in the body.  The on going homosexual debate has revealed divides along theological and socially relevant factions. The upcoming elections are already showing forth the ugliness between brothers who differ in political opinions. And even seemingly harmless debates on social websites about church issues like tongues or the rapture or end times events can create hard line “us against them” sides that go from reasoning together to picking up verbal stones. To watch, read and at times be caught up in some of these inter-family battles is so disheartening and disturbing to me.  What’s worse is that when I choose to abstain for the sake of the body and my own self preservation in the faith I’m often reprimanded for not picking a side or being deemed guilty even in my silence.  What a horrible message we are sending the world who is ever watching us.  Yes, this is heart breaking on many levels.

I was involved in a local church split once. I’m not sure I can even recall what the issue was but it was great enough to cause some to leave the church and for the pastor to step away.  It was one of the most painful experiences I’ve endured as a believer. It was worse than my divorce. Friends and family I had worshiped with for so long were now pitted against each other in a silly dispute that caused us to go separate ways.  It took a long time for those relationships to be mended and restored.  Although highly painful it was localized.  But when the same thing happens on a much grander scale the impact and tremors are felt in the whole body and the damage is sometimes irreversible. And the whole world sees our dirty laundry and scratches their heads.

The scriptural concepts of iron sharpening iron and sitting in the counsel of the Godly imply and encourage a loving and open meeting of the minds, something that the church has done since the first church in Acts. We come from different backgrounds, different economic stations, different life circumstances and different maturity levels in our faith.  We are not expected to be the same and a body functions best when those differences are not only recognized but utilized for Hid glory and the health of the church.  As Paul compares the church body to the human body we all find our place even with differing strengths and ideals, doing all we do for the glory of God.  But when those differences become fed not by love but by pride or self-centered motives that taint the brotherly love we are exhorted to display, the hard human spirit with it’s vile, envy and hatred fights for our thoughts and hearts like a wild male animal fighting for mating rights. The battle is ugly, brutal and sometimes fatal. We are warned against this in several passages.

James 4:1 What causes fights and quarrels among you? Don’t they come from your desires that battle within you? You desire but do not have, so you kill. You covet but you cannot get what you want, so you quarrel and fight.

Mark 7:21 For it is from within, out of a person’s heart, that evil thoughts come—sexual immorality, theft, murder, adultery, greed, malice, deceit, lewdness, envy, slander, arrogance and folly. All these evils come from inside and defile a person.”

Romans 16:17 I appeal to you, brothers, to watch out for those who cause divisions and create obstacles contrary to the doctrine that you have been taught; avoid them. For such persons do not serve our Lord Christ, but their own appetites, and by smooth talk and flattery they deceive the hearts of the naive.

Ephesians 4:3 Eager to maintain the unity of the Spirit in the bond of peace. There is one body and one Spirit—just as you were called to the one hope that belongs to your call— one Lord, one faith, one baptism, one God and Father of all, who is over all and through all and in all.

Matt. 5:22 But I say to you that everyone who is angry with his brother will be liable to judgment; whoever insults his brother will be liable to the council; and whoever says, ‘You fool!’ will be liable to the hell of fire

When I’m caught in the midst of some of these harsh social debates I’m reminded of the words of Christ when he says that the world will know we are his followers when they see, hear and read our love for each other, and again His command that we love one another even as He loves us.  I can’t say with any conviction that I can read or see this love on social websites and God forgive me if I too have shown less than brotherly love in my responses to these recent issues.  If I am called an idiot for my beliefs I’m cool with that. But if that remark comes from a brother or sister in Christ then I become concerned not for me but for who might be reading these comments.  If we as a body and the Church can not be united in love and be able to discuss in peace our opinions on hot topics, then how can we expect to attract the unchurched. Back in the day Christian recording artist Carmen came out with a song entitled I Want Some of Dat, referring to the love and joy he found in Christians to the point of wanting some for his own. Can the world see our dysfunction as it stands and genuinely say I want what he’s having?  I doubt it.  God have mercy on your church and forgive us those things which cause us harm and which cause You dishonor.

 

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Football in the Cow Pasture

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As we eagerly anticipate the long overdue start of the NFL season this weekend, I am reminded of perhaps the funniest comedic routine I’ve ever heard.  It is an old recording performed by the late Andy Griffith as he is describing in great detail the first time he ever witnessed a football game.  If you haven’t heard it and need a laugh, google it and prepare to bust a gut.  The game was being played in a cow pasture.  His final observation was that the object of the game must be to run with the little pigskin from one end of the pasture to the other without being attacked or “a steppin’ in sumthin'”.

I can completely relate to this.  My dad grew up in the small town of Quitman, Mississippi. He was raised on a massive farm with acreage, ponds and cow pastures.  Directly across the road from the house was the larger pasture.  As kids we visited his childhood home at least twice a year.  Since we all loved football, and since the closest spot of grass was the pasture across the road, we would eventually end up over there playing football.  As you might imagine there were cow mines all over and it was very difficult to concentrate on running or catching a pass and being aware of where you were stepping.  You just couldn’t avoid “a steppin’ in sumthin”.

Some of us in the faith live our Christian lives like playing football in a cow pasture full of opportunities for us to step in it.  We feel we have stronger resolves than we actually do.  We think we aren’t subject to temptations and distractions like those other people.  We wear our faith like a coat of teflon thinking evil influences or suspect environments won’t stick to us.  Maybe in our alone time we get on the computer and scan videos dangerously linked to porn sites.  Or maybe we have that one drink knowing we are subject to over indulgence. Maybe it’s leaving after your third heaping plate at the harmless all-you-can-eat-buffet.  It might be that innocent conversation on social media with someone you would never want your spouse to know about.  It could even be as innocent as the destructive lyrics to your favorite secular music.  All these examples represent cow patties, fresh, hot and smelly, right in the area where you are playing and usually unavoidable.  It’s just a matter of time before the foul scent of your misstep announces to the world your arrival and your most recent activities. Scripture reads “be sure and know that your sins will eventually reveal your character” , my interpretation.  Like Taco Bell, you can’t easily rid yourself of the stench of fresh cow dung-trust me on this.

We live in a world that smells foul and we travel a road surrounded by pastures.  We can see and smell the eminent snares from our path without veering off into the actual pastures where we will surely be soiled by corruption and temptation greater than we can handle or escape.  Thankfully God left for us instructions on avoiding these dung hills in His Word;

“Beloved, I urge you as aliens and strangers to abstain from fleshly lusts, which wage war against the soul.” (1 Peter 2:11)

“But put on the Lord Jesus Christ, and make no provision for the flesh in regard to its lusts.” (Romans 13:14)

“Now flee from youthful lusts, and pursue righteousness, faith, love and peace, with those who call on the Lord from a pure heart.” (2 Tim 2:22)

As the Day of our Lord approaches the intensity of warfare against the saints will increase exponentially and the battles will become more numerous.  We have to take seriously ever threat, every opportunity, every snare that lands in our path and overcome them by a daily renewal of our minds and a regular diet of scripture so our spiritual immune systems are constantly being nourished for battle.  It all starts and ends in the mind.

“Summing it all up, friends, I’d say you’ll do best by filling your minds and meditating on things true, noble, reputable, authentic, compelling, gracious—the best, not the worst; the beautiful, not the ugly; things to praise, not things to curse.”  Phil. 4:8, Message Bible

Enjoy your football season, just watch out for the land mines in your path.  Go Colts!

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Racial Harmony in a World Out of Tune

Finally, all of you, be like-minded, be sympathetic, love one another, be compassionate and humble-l Peter 3:8

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Ebony and ivory live together in perfect harmony
Side by side on my piano keyboard, oh Lord, why don’t we?

These are the lyrics to a song written and performed by Paul McCartney and Stevie Wonder many years ago.  Black and white keys on a keyboard being played together to create amazing sounds and beautiful music not possible if any of the keys were missing.  Sounds like a simplistic approach to the races living together in love, even naive given the recent events making news headlines.  Is racial harmony attainable in our society or are there powers at work to keep us at odds with each other, trapped in the sins of our past?  I wish I knew the answer.

Let us not beat around the bush.  Two weeks ago in Ferguson, MO a black and unarmed youth was shot and killed by a white police officer during an arrest.  While we are still waiting for the facts to come out, we know from the autopsy report that the youth was shot six times resulting in his death.  Not long before that a white officer applied a rear choke hold to a black man, who stated several times that he couldn’t breathe.  The man died of asphyxiation. And in a case in Texas a man with his hands cuffed behind him allegedly shot and killed himself in the chest while in the back seat of a patrol car.  I am in now way attempting to jump on the “white police are looking for black men to shoot” band wagon message being marketed as common practice.  Being a graduate of the local citizens police academy I have much respect for the police department at large who risk their lives everyday and have the right to return to their families at the end of their shifts.  But when these incidents happen, as isolated or exploited by the media as they might be, they serve to open up old wounds that in all honesty, never healed.  And even those who are siblings in our Lord tend to get caught up in the momentum and the new life breathed into the social demons of hate and bigotry.  It’s a cycle that is like a True Blood vampire-it just won’t die!  How do we love our neighbor and promote peace in ignorance of racial history?

In Luke Jesus tells a parable about the man we refer to as the Good Samaritan;

Jesus answered, “A certain man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who both stripped him and beat him, and departed, leaving him half dead. By chance a certain priest was going down that way. When he saw him, he passed by on the other side. In the same way a Levite also, when he came to the place, and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a certain Samaritan, as he travelled, came where he was. When he saw him, he was moved with compassion, came to him, and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. He set him on his own animal, and brought him to an inn, and took care of him. On the next day, when he departed, he took out two denarii, and gave them to the host, and said to him, ‘Take care of him. Whatever you spend beyond that, I will repay you when I return.’ Now which of these three do you think seemed to be a neighbor to him who fell among the robbers?”  He said, “He who showed mercy on him.” Then Jesus said to him, “Go and do likewise.”

The Samaritan was not only a hated man by most Jews but he was also of a different race.  The road from Jerusalem to Jericho was known as The Way of the Blood due to its history of robberies and murders.  Martin Luther King Jr. and his wife traveled this road when they were in the Holy Land.  I love MLK’s synopsis of the travelers.  The first two upon approaching the man in distress must have thought to themselves, “what will happen to me if I assist this man“, while the Samaritan thought ” what will happen to this man if I don’t assist“.  Jesus had just stated that we should love our neighbors and used this story to show that brotherly love extends beyond the races.

I am a white man.  I was born that way.  Many parts of my character and preferences are more black than white but that’s another blog.  But even I have been criticized by many of my black brothers of  “not understanding” or being to white to get it.  My genuinely good intentions of trying to insert Christian love into the solution and response has been summarily dismissed as a “just get over it” attitude, not my personal stance at all.  I firmly believe that when Christians perceive injustices they have not only a right but an obligation to acknowledge and address them, just not in the same way as the hate mongers given our national spotlights do.  In the widely accepted “Love Chapter”, l Corinthians,  it is stated “…love barely notices when it is wronged“.  I know how tall an order that is to the parents of a youth unjustly shot by an officer, or another the victim of a terrible rape or murder.  The indignation that is the human spirit trumps the divine nature of Christ that should be indwelling us at all times.  Our response is always “yes, but”.  Loving our neighbors and those who persecute us is not turning a blind eye, as I have been accused of, but rising above the existence of hate.  Even scripture tells us that if we only love those who love us, how are we different than the world.  Applying Christian love in situations of hate does not mean we don’t peacefully protest, it does not keep us from seeking justice for all, and it does not render us inactive in seeking resolutions to social ills.  However it does compel us to approach these issues with the mind of Christ as His disciples and as a voice of reason and compassion, seeking restoration, not chronicling all history’s sins against mankind and pouring salt in the wounds.

It is high time that the leaders in the church, black and white, come together and raise their voices in harmony against injustice at every level and set the example on a national platform visible to all, tackle the tough and obvious questions, identify the ugly beast and raise the standard of peace as Christian brothers and sisters who are not of this world, and by doing so draw attention to the ultimate peace keeper, Jesus Christ.   I am convinced with all my heart that there is an attainable solution to this once all parties agree to come together, “forgetting what is past and pressing on” to acquire harmony and balance in our earthly domain as we prepare for and wait in eager anticipation of our Heavenly kingdom and reward.  At the throne of judgment there will be sheep and goats.  I wonder if there will also be peacekeepers and and war mongers.  Label me as you will-I will use what little influence I have for peace and pray every day that I will see it manifested in my world.

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Running the Race

Do you not know that in a race all the runners run, but only one receives the prize? So run that you may obtain it…

1 Cor. 9:24

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On more than one occasion in the New Testament the Apostle Paul refers to our spiritual journey as a race, a race to run and obtain the prize and a race to finish.  It’s not clear if Paul was formerly an athlete in the tradition of the Roman Games or merely a spectator, but he knew enough about the races and the rules of the races to make analogies for us to follow and aspire to.

As a Three Year Letterman in track I know something about competing in races.  I know that at my age I no longer enjoy running, for one.  But back in the day it was quite a different story.  I was not into cross country competition, nor did I run the mile or two mile.  And before you ask, yes, when I ran the distances were still measured in yards and miles, not meters and kilometers.  I was a sprinter, preferring to run the 100, 220 and 440 yard dashes.  This might explain my impatience in life now-endurance is not one of my gifts.  I want it now please.

I learned a few things in my training as a sprinter that have served me well in my Christian walk, that is when I remember to apply them.  One of the most important aspects of a sprint is the start-getting out of the blocks. You push off of the blocks at the sound of the starter’s gun.  The blocks need to be set, secure and in proper alignment with the lane you’re in.  If the blocks shift or are not anchored, you will “stumble coming out of the blocks” as the old adage goes.  I know this to be true as our races were first run on loose cinder tracks.

Psalm 143 say “may your gracious spirit lead me forward on a firm footing.  None of us are born theologians, nor do we become such upon our conversion.  It is only through Bible study, memorization and application that we can develop this firm foundation needed to get out of the blocks, making our first strides sure so we can more quickly reach our full pace. Our lives must be in line (in lane) with the Word so we are not guilty of lane infractions that would disqualify us or nullify our finish.

I also learned quickly that a sprinter should never look back.  Sprinting is all about form-the best sprinters know how important it is to keep form.  When you look to the left, the right or behind you in a sprint, your running form is broken, even temporarily, and your momentum is decreased.  It really is true that you can’t run forward if you are looking backward.  Jesus said in Luke 9:62:  “No one who puts a hand to the plow and looks back is fit for service in the kingdom of God.”  

What causes us to look back?  We may be looking to see how we are progressing compared to others like us in our walks.  Every person’s race is different and our progress should not be determined by that of others in different circumstances.  We may look back to see if our past is catching up to us.  Many in the faith, especially new converts, have a difficult time comprehending God’s promise and ability to completely forgive our past and remove our sins from us by the dispensation of grace.  We run but we are constantly looking over our shoulders, breaking form, losing momentum.

Another mistake sprinters can make is giving up once the possibility of a top finish seems unlikely.  I will never forget competing in the city wide meet in the 440 yard dash.  The best in the entire city were there based on their recorded times throughout the season.  At the sound of the starter’s gun we were off.  I had one of my best starts ever and quickly went to the lead.  I held that lead all the way down the back stretch.  I rounded the final turn and I’m seeing a shiny blue ribbon just 100 yards away when suddenly this freight train comes roaring past me out of nowhere-four runners glued to each other like a team of horses.  I was devastated and couldn’t believe what I was witnessing.  No Blue Ribbon, or Red or White for that matter.  What else could I do but fall in right behind them and catch their draft and momentum.  I finished a disappointing fifth but ran my personal best time and it remained a school record for several years.

It is easy in our spiritual journey to feel like we are in stride, setting a good pace and out in clean air when life comes rushing by like a flood. And it happens to all of us-divorce, severe illness, loss of a close relative, financial crisis, failed businesses-all distractions that are very real and that can cause us to want to give up and stop competing for the prize.  The overwhelming sense of hopelessness and despair of not finishing as high as we thought we would, if finishing at all, sets in and takes residence in our hearts and minds and become real, tangible stumbling blocks that block our running lanes. I suppose it’s then that we learn to become hurdlers!

Acts 20:24 puts it this way:  “However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.”

The best way we can testify to the Good News of God’s grace is to keep our footing, come out strong, don’t look back and finish your own race regardless of the runners around you running their own races, or the obstacles placed in your lanes to hinder you or cause you to fall.

I love Paul’s words in Phil. 3 as he compares once again our lives to a race;

No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead,I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us.

Runners to your marks-set, FINISH!

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Realness of Despair, Remedy of hope

“For our struggle is not against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the powers of this dark world and against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly realms.”  Eph. 6:12

Girl standing in rain

 

This has been a tough week for many as the death of the world’s funniest man, Robin Williams, has revealed the truth of one the world’s toughest battles, depression. Many have been the commentaries on the subject, varying from a coward’s choice to a weakness of faith to a legitimate mental disease.  Some have carefully approached the subject with compassion while others have breached it with judgement and vile. While I am not an authority on the correct diagnosis and treatment of mental disorders, I am familiar with depression-he is an unwelcome friend always lurking on the other side of the door.  These are my observations and experiences regarding depression.

Depression does not discriminate and most certainly does not prey solely on those of weak minds.  I did some research yesterday and was alarmed to find that many of the world’s most intelligent people have suffered from depression. Among them are Abe Lincoln, Charles Dickens, Isaac Newton, Winston Churchill, Sigmund Freud, Charles Darwin, Mark Twain, O’Keefe, Tolstoy and even Beethoven-all arguably people of extraordinary intellect and yet all victims of the darkness of the mind. I was further stunned to learn that the suicide rate of Christians is nearly the same as those who profess no particular faith, and that even ministers of the Gospel have fallen victim to suicide. If even clergy who have applied themselves  to advanced study of the Bible to be spiritual leaders are subjected to the fatality of depression, then we have little option but to recognize the scope of the battle many of us deal with in our minds.

Many who know me would describe me as a laid back, cool, easy going personality with a teflon approach to life.  Nothing could be further from the truth.  I keep locked in my mind a demon that is very real and always looking for ways to escape.  Few have seen me in the heat of these battles except my wife.  Miraculously she is still with me.  I have often accused God of toying with me for His amusement.  Don’t get me wrong, God certainly takes pleasure in testing me, sometimes without a chance to catch my breath, but the war that rages in me is not God sent but mentally seeded and exploited by those forces who would seek my eternal destruction.  And they are real.

The church has done a great disservice to many parishioners who have come to them for help in fighting depression. Many clergy mistakenly dismiss depression as just a bad perception of reality and in turn dismiss the legitimacy of the parishioner’s cries for help.  Others, feeling it’s strictly a spiritual matter, throw some oil on them and quote a Bible verse or two and send them home.  And then there are those who make their member feel completely shamed by “reminding” them of all the good things in their life, suggesting they have nothing to be depressed about, adding to their depression the burden of guilt.  As a result there has been a stigma placed on mental illness in the church that has left many people feeling isolated in their fight and ashamed to openly seek help from even their own Christian siblings. If one came to a pastor requesting prayer for lumps in the breast or chest pains the pastor would not hesitate to refer them to medical experts. Why should disorders of the mind be treated so differently?

And yet with all sickness there is hope. We must never be so disillusioned as to forget the magnitude of the God we profess and His ability to heal any disease. Even in the grips of our deepest despair nothing is to great for God to resolve.  We must also cling to the healing properties of hope, and do all that is within our power to find, recall, strain for and acquire the assurance that each of us who are in Christ possesses, the blessed hope of eternal life beyond the battles of our earthly existence. My bouts with depression are never so severe that a grandchild in my lap can’t bring a smile and reminder of God’s love for me.  But that is only possible with constant contact.  If I were ever left alone for long periods of time during these battles, with no one checking on me or simply being with me, who knows that I may a sad statistic. Depression requires comfort and comfort comes from the strong presence of peers, unlike the peers of Job as he struggled, who implied his troubles were his own doing and that he should just shake it off an move on.  Dealing with loved ones who are depressed requires love, patience and in some cases a tight lip.  It never requires judgment ridicule, guilt or shame.

Corrie Ten Boom, author of the best selling The Hiding Place, battled deep depression while she was in the German concentration camps.  I had the unique privilege of hearing her speak in person about the book and her ordeals in the midst of unimaginable circumstances.  This is an excerpt from one of her stories:

The Ten Booms, all devout Christians, had provided a hiding place in their home for persecuted Jews during World War II. Corrie, who was fifty-nine at the time of her arrest, was placed in an isolation cell for the first few weeks of her imprisonment. Depression and the struggle to maintain a sense of hope consumed her.

“Only to those who have been in prison does freedom have such great meaning. When you are dying – when you stand at the gate of eternity – you see things from a different perspective than when you think you may live for a long time. I [stood] at the gate for many months, living in Barracks 28 in the shadow of the crematorium.

Corrie lived within the smell and cries of the cremation chamber where many of her friends died.  Surely she felt isolated and depressed. and yet she clung to all she had, the hope of eventual salvation through Christ, and he miraculously restored her and allowed her story to touch the hearts of millions around the world.  She was imprisoned at the hands of the Nazis and by the chains of her mind, but the realness of the hope she held helped her survive.  We have the same hope within us.  Love those who are battling-hug those who are depressed-comfort them with compassion and if need be, help them seek treatment from those trained in the area of mental stress disorders.  Pray for them but don’t dismiss them as weak or immature in their faith journey.  No one but God knows the intensity of the battles being fought in a person’s mind.  No one but God can shed light on the healing hope in the darkness of warfare.

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God’s Deafening Silence

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When I was much younger I heard stories about the 30 day nights that parts of Alaska experience each year.  I couldn’t in my wildest dreams fathom how a person could withstand 30 days of cold and darkness, even knowing that the darkness was temporary and that soon the morning sun would be seen again.  Now I know all too well what long periods of still darkness feel like and it is no less easy to cope with. All believers have been there-the periods of your faith journey when God seems to take a hiatus from leading us and leaves us to our own vices.  We may cry out to God in despair-we may dig deeper into The Word-we may fast, light candles, rise boldly with harsh words, fall on our face in submissive humility, and still nothing.  We knock with no answer, we seek but don’t find, we ask but are left with no answers.  The long periods of God’s extended Winter silence is cold and deafening.

When Mother Teresa passed on to her reward she left behind some letters that she had written in her 50 years of service.  Who among us could boast to have the heart of God that she spent her life displaying. One might believe that for someone to accomplish what she did in her life of service to the poor and needy that God must have been an ever present guide and companion. But her letters surprisingly reveal quite the opposite.  Listen to her heartfelt despair in some of her letters; “I am told God lives in me — and yet the reality of darkness and coldness and emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul,” . And another, “I want God with all the power of my soul — and yet between us there is terrible separation.” And again,  “I feel just that terrible pain of loss, of God not wanting me, of God not being God, of God not really existing.” And finally, “Jesus has a very special love for you. As for me, the silence and emptiness is so great that I look and do not see, listen and do not hear. The tongue moves but does not speak.” The are the words spoken by one of God’s true saints.  At no time in her journey does she ever confess a true disbelief in God, but in the silence she wrestled with the knowledge of His existence and involvement in her life against the tangible evidence that indicated otherwise.

As I read the Psalms I can hear in David’s voice his own personal agony as he sought God in his most desperate of times only to hear the sound of silence.  Does this sound like you?

“Why standest thou afar off, O LORD? why hidest thou thyself in times of trouble?” “My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me? why art thou so far from helping me, and from the words of my roaring?” “I will say unto God my rock, Why hast thou forgotten me? why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?” “Awake, why sleepest thou, O Lord? arise, cast us not off for ever”. “LORD, why castest thou off my soul? why hidest thou thy face from me?” And even Jesus, as He hung on the cross cried out to His Father, “why have you forsaken me?”

There is no recording in scripture of God answering even His own Son.  Are we to demand more than He gave His own Son? these times in our lives are the most trying, the most painful, the most difficult times of our journey.  And it seems like the times that are the darkest are the times when God seems to be the most distant. So how do we cope.  How do we tone down the deafness of God’s silence when we can’t sense, find or hear Him?  Don’t believe for a second that I have this figured out as I have been seeking God’s voice over a situation for many years with no clear response.  Yet as a long time believer these are the things I try to rely on to get through each dark day.  First, I have to disconnect my heart from my mind.  We all want to “feel” our faith, but most times we have to choose to recall and believe God’s Word and the promises He left for us.  Hebrews says that faith is believing in things not seen-I might add things not felt or heard as well.  We have to go by our knowledge that God can’t go back on His promise to love us, to guide us and to work all things out for our good, even when we can’t see Him doing so.  Second, I have to learn how to navigate the darkness.  Those who are blind and live by themselves learn how to navigate their dwellings by recalling where objects are and assuming they remain unmoved.  I can’t always see god but I know He’s there because He’s always been there before and I must navigate under the belief that I am not alone and that God has not been moved.  Lastly, and perhaps the most difficult, even though I can’t hear His voice, I must continue to communicate with Him in prayer. It may seem like more of a monologue than a dialogue, but through prayer the line of communication remains open and things are brought to mind that compel us to keep moving forward on our journey.  Once we stop communing with God, the darkness will overcome us and leave us vulnerable and defenseless to enemy attacks.

How I wish God taught us things using any method but silence.  To those like me it is the most excruciating experience imaginable.  Earnestly seeking God but not finding Him where we think He should be leaves us feeling much the same as it must have Mother Teresa.  But even when we can’t hear Him, we know He hears us. I exhort you today to keep fighting, keep believing, keep studying and keep praying to a sovereign God Who has already displayed His love for us in ways that requires no further response.

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Why God Why?

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Why now?  Why her?  Why me?  Why this?  It may be the biggest three letter word in our vocabulary-why.  It is often time the hardest question and most assuredly the least answered-a question that even the most mature and devout of Christian believers struggle with-Why God.

We’ve all been subjected to the inquisitive minds of children as they ask about the whys of the universe, where babies come from, why the sky is blue, with each explanation followed by yet another why.  We find these times amusing when we look back on them.  But as life progresses and children become adults baptized into a world of sin and chaos, the whys become more urgent, less amusing and with fewer answers. When we take into account the state of the human condition and add to it the tragic recent events from around the world, we may all find ourselves asking these heart breaking whys:

Why does my child have cancer?

Why can’t I find employment?

Why did my loved one have to die in that crash?

Why are innocent children the first casualties of war?

Why are Christians being tortured and martyred in this day and age?

Why won’t my kids serve the Lord after years of praying for them?

Why did my spouse leave me?

Why didn’t you heal them?

Why God won’t you respond to me-why so silent?

Why do bad things happen to Godly people?

These whys are painful. These whys are real. And these whys rarely receive a response.  They come from our deepest and darkest moments, our raw and naked emotions, and they test the very fibers of our belief and faith. Many have walked away from their faith in God because they could not find answers or accept silence as their only answer.

There was a man named Job in the Bible, a man described as the most God fearing man of his day-“none like him in all the earth” it says.  But in a matter of hours, Job lost his possessions, his children and his health for no given reason. He had some serious whys for God. Joseph was thrown into prison for years for a crime he didn’t commit with no communication from God. Paul and Silas were chained in a dark dungeon like jail, beaten and tortured for being obedient in preaching the good news about Christ. I’m sure deep inside they may have had a few whys. Even our Savior, while hanging on the cross in our place, feeling the unfathomable pain from the beatings and the nails, rendered to His father an unanswered…Why!

How I wish I could submit a reasonable explanation as to why God allows such suffering seemingly without cause. How I wish I could comfort friends or family who are going through difficult times with words that make sense or scripture that makes it all clear.

The Psalmist David, after being promised the throne, found himself in the wilderness running for his life. He had a few whys as recorded for us in the Psalms;

O LORD, why do you stand so far away?
Why do you hide when I am in trouble?

My God, my God, why have you abandoned me?
Why are you so far away when I groan for help?

Why have you tossed me aside?
Why must I wander around in grief,

O LORD, why do you reject me?
Why do you turn your face from me?

I have had my own whys-why divorce? Why disease? Why did I lose the business? Why God can’t I hear your voice when I desperately seek you? We all have unresolved whys in our lives. To follow God blindly without having questions is unrealistic. But trusting God in the valley of the shadows of death when we don’t understand requires a relationship with Him that can’t be forged just in the easy times. We are purified through fire. We are strongest when we are at the end of human reason and ability. And we are best able to offer comfort when we have been comforted in our own times of why.

I can’t answer in a thousand words or less a question that has been posed by much holier men and women than me for thousands of years. If I could I would be in high demand like Bruce Almighty. I have reconciled in my heart that I will most likely go to my grave having most of my whys for God unanswered.  But I also know that on that day when all things are revealed and the mysteries of faith resolved, it won’t be as important as it seems to be now. God is faithful, just and good and He loves us with an everlasting love, having pardoned our sins through the death and resurrection of His son so that we might inherit eternal life, which may be the biggest why of all.

 

 

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See No Evil

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We live in an evil world. We always have. Perhaps it is more so now, or maybe we are just more aware through social technology. When I was a boy (can’t believe that just came out of my mouth) I remember Harry Reasoner and Walter Cronkite being our major source of World News, in addition to the printed newspaper. If they didn’t report on it, the American public didn’t know about it. My how times have changed!

Now with the advent of the internet and social vehicles like Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and the likes, we are made more aware of the atrocities that are taking place all around the world in real time. The only people who can claim ignorance to world affairs are those with no TV, no computer, no smart phones and no newspaper service.  With all the advances in communications technology, you just can’t avoid the flood of available information on any current issue unless you are a hermit. To some the news is a sad story; to others it becomes a burden to help bear.

Consider some of the news stories in recent months:

* 276 girls abducted from a Nigerian school, yet to be found, feared sold into slavery or sex trafficking

* 500 children age 2 to 18 found living in a Mexican refuge among rats, cleaned only to be abused then returned

* 25 Children killed in Elementary school bombing in Syria

* 250 Christian girls gang raped in villages near Chibok in the name of Allah

* 48 Christians shot in head in Kenyan village while watching World Cup

The list is intense and overwhelming. To the Christian believer, it is a burden to heavy to bear. Galatians 6:2 exhorts us to “carry each others burdens and so fulfill the law of Christ”. Romans 12:15 asks us to “mourn with those who mourn”.  The question becomes how can we be made aware of these end times atrocities without being brought to our knees in prayerful lamentations on behalf of the victims and their families.

We each have our own dose of issue to deal with in this life, sickness, unemployment, relationships, finances, etc. There are no shortage of burdens to go around. But Christ compels us to love our neighbors and pray for our enemies, in the midst of our own battles-to be spiritually and socially conscious of the plight of our brothers and sistesr in the Lord and the innocent children so precious to God. We can not afford to claim ignorance given the aforementioned media outlets at our constant disposal.  We are to be the arms, the legs, the feet, the heart and the tears of Christ when confronted with these stories and to bear in prayer the burdens of our neighbors, regardless of their religious or political persuasion, or their nationality. They are no longer a world removed-they are are backyard neighbors.

I am so discouraged when I see a story on Facebook for instance, about Hobby Lobby policies getting 1000-2000 likes or comments or anti Government posts receiving hits all day long, but a Christian pastor being jailed or kids being abused in another country going unnoticed as if we have closed our eyes to the real evils of our world in order to engage in the superficial and non-eternal affairs of hollyweird gossip or political stone throwing.  The body of Christ needs to be more engaged in the injustices being perpetrated on the innocent and the voiceless.

Father of all mercies, give us a heart of sincere compassion with eyes wide open for those who suffer and make us ever mindful that your Son died for the salvation of all!  Help us understand the eternal value of a life lived and a life lost. Forgive us our complacency and heal our eyesight and our hearing so we may see and hear the cries of the hurting and respond in kind with the love of our Savior.

 

 

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Give us This Week our Weekly Bread

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Would you be content with having but one good meal per week? With the unlimited availability of  food in our country, should you have to? What if that one meal per week was just meat or just desserts or worse yet, just junk food?  Most of us would develop ailments from malnutrition, suffer fatigue and leave our immune systems vulnerable to any infectious disease it couldn’t fend off through proper nutrition.

I was recently involved in a discussion with some church folk friends of mine about mature believers who change churches when they feel they aren’t being adequately fed by the pastor or priest.  When I hear this I envision a nest of chicks with their mouths wide open waiting for the pastor to drop in a nugget of spiritual truth, then flying off to gather more food while the chicks wait in their nest for their next meal.   This approach to church is wrong on many levels  and deeply disturbing to me.

In too many instances the burden of spiritual nutrition is laid upon the local pastor with little or no responsibility borne by the believer.  The expectations placed on the local church and its clergy do not line up with the primary function and purpose of the church as described in the New Testament.  Scripture is clear that we gather together corporately to worship God and encourage each other-period.  Of course a good sermon or homily aids in exhorting us on to good works and falls under the function of encouragement. We all love to hear a message that moves us to do something that enables us to more accurately reflect Christ.  But just as our bodies require daily nourishment so too our spirits require daily feeding.

I reside in Las Vegas, perhaps the capital of the world’s best and biggest buffets.  I admit that I love going to one place where I can choose to eat from Mexican to Italian to Asian to American cuisines with no limit on how much I eat.  I can even have just desserts if I choose. But no matter how delicious the food is or how much of it I eat in one sitting, I’d be in bad physical shape if I only relied on that one weekly meal for my overall health.  I had to learn how to cook for myself and provide daily meals the other 6 days of the week or I’d starve.

Church members are no different. Expecting your pastor to provide your weekly meal and complaining that you are not being fed is equivalent to eating out once a week and not knowing how to feed yourself in between. We have at our fingertips the Word, our daily bread, the exact same bread our pastor distributes on Sunday. The responsibility of our own spiritual fitness is not the pastor’s but ours. We are encouraged to “study to show thy approved”, to “rightly divide the word of truth”.  We can’t do that on one meal per week by neglecting our own accountability.

The best clergy are the ones who through their weekly homilies whet the individual appetites of their parishioners for spiritual meat to the point that the parishioners can’t go a single day without personal study and devotions.  And those who are taking in their daily bread will never complain about their pastor not feeding them.

There are numerous reasons for changing churches as the Lord leads, but malnutrition through personal apathy should never be one of them.

Bon appetit!

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The Power of a Love Letter

There are few things in life that are more meaningful than a heartfelt love letter written from an abundance of emotions. 

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They come in many styles and flavors-they can make you laugh or cry-they can move you or stop you dead in your tracks. One thing is for sure-regardless of the content, they can’t be ignored or easily forgotten.

There is nothing more amusing or pitiful than a man whose gift is not the English language as he desperately tries to capture his woman’s heart by writing down on paper the description of his feelings that he can’t quite define himself. And still he does what is unnatural to him-compose a sappy love letter that his lady will treasure as if it were written by Henry David Thoreau. Whether love letters are written worthy of literary prizes or smell of oil from a mechanic’s garage, they have power.

I love to write poetry, especially for my wife and have had several of them published. But nothing I’ve ever written compares to a simple note she wrote to me many years ago.  Just last week we returned from our annual trip to California.  We have a favorite spot where we can just sit on the beach and catch our breath. Along with our normal luggage we each take a toiletry bag. Mine is your everyday men’s valet bag while hers has a shoulder strap and 4 wheels, but that is another blog. At the bottom of my bag in a sealed plastic bag for protection is a letter she wrote to me upon my first trip away from her over eighteen years ago. It has since traveled with me whenever I leave town for any reason. I have no desire to divulge the entire contents of the letter, but it was simply stated that she would miss me and think of me the entire time I’d be gone and would be counting down the days until we could be together again. She had secretly slipped it in my bag and I found it the first night and read it every night I was away. Eighteen years later I still pull it out when we travel and am reminded how lucky I am to be with such a beautiful lady.

As precious as these are there are love letters that have been passed down to us for over two thousand years by someone who created, perfected and displayed His love for us in ways that our minds can’t comprehend or our best words describe. Look at just a few of these letters left for us;

Romans 8:35

Who shall separate us from the love of Christ? Shall tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? As it is written, “For your sake we are being killed all the day long; we are regarded as sheep to be slaughtered.” No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us. For I am sure that neither death nor life, nor angels nor rulers, nor things present nor things to come, nor powers, nor height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord.

Eph. 3:17

So that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge

Lamentations 3:22

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.

The Bible is full of God’s love being shown and declared to us even when we are at our worst and least deserving. In fact it can be read as one very long love letter, and it doesn’t need to be protected in a plastic bag at the bottom of a luggage case. Through the centuries it hasn’t faded or decayed, it hasn’t been lost in the hustle and bustle of life and it still has an amazing power to overcome the worst hurts imaginable when applied.

I still write my wife love letters-she continues to inspire the prose in me. That love will continue to flow from the author of all love and the most awesome composer of love letters of all time!

 

 

 

 

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Hope in the Midst of Incomprehensible Tragedy

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While our community is still coping with the tragic loss of two police officers and a heroic civilian in a recent senseless act of crime, another inconceivable tragedy occurred a little closer to home. Two young children, the boy four years old and his sister just two, belonging to a childhood friend of our daughter, lost their lives when their home caught fire and all desperate rescue attempts failed. Both parents made valiant efforts to save them and received severe burns in the process.  Fire and rescue personnel on the scene burdened with the task of finding and retrieving the children were shaken and grief counselors were dispatched to the site. The loss of these two precious lives is devastating and the healing process will be endless and perhaps never completed.

How can any person explain such a tragedy in any way that makes sense? What words of hope and comfort can one offer that has any measurable impact on the extreme hurt and infinite grief that a parent or loved one experiences in such an event? Words become hollow-cliches become a mockery and even the most heartfelt sentiments are lost in the midst of overwhelming sorrow. And there will be those who will raise the question, where was God in all of this, a question that is hard for even the most devoted of Christians to fully address without sounding like a generic Hallmark Card.

It is in times like these that we must lean on what we know to be true and find some level of comfort in the words of our Savior. We all sang that song growing up in church, Jesus Loves the Little Children. We know from the recording in the Gospels this is true. Listen to the words of Christ recorded in this story in Matthew 19;

One day some parents brought their children to Jesus so he could lay his hands on them and pray for them. But the disciples scolded the parents for bothering him. But Jesus said, “Let the children come to me. Don’t stop them! For the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to those who are like these children. ”And he placed his hands on their heads and blessed them before he left.

Jesus was teaching on the coast around Judea and as usual families followed Him just to hear His words. When I imagine this scene I see children sitting on His lap, playing around His feet and soaking in the presence of their creator, even if they didn’t fully understand who Jesus was. Jesus was very clear about His love for them in His scolding of the disciples for their view of these children.  He further demonstrates His love and affection for them in this next passage found just a chapter earlier in Matthew 18;

About that time the disciples came to Jesus and asked, “Who is greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven?” Jesus called a little child to him and put the child among them.  Then he said, “I tell you the truth, unless you turn from your sins and become like little children, you will never get into the Kingdom of Heaven.  So anyone who becomes as humble as this little child is the greatest in the Kingdom of Heaven.  And anyone who welcomes a little child like this on my behalf is welcoming me.  But if you cause one of these little ones who trusts in me to fall into sin, it would be better for you to have a large millstone tied around your neck and be drowned in the depths of the sea.

One of the most beautiful things a person can observe is the pure, innocent, untainted love and trust of a child, so much so that Christ Himself established the child as the standard by which we are to be measured and ultimately fitted for our eternal reward. If we want to be great and exalted in the Heavenly kingdom, we must have the same heart and approach as that of a child. How much more value could our Savior place on any living creation! He indeed loves children. He sees every scrape, saves every tear, frames every smile and knows every name! These truths must be the source of comfort when none other can be found.

Just a week or so before this tragedy unfolded our own grandkids were playing and swimming with these two little ones who are no longer with us. We have this guarantee in life-nothing is guaranteed, including tomorrow. Tragedies like this are daily occurrences in our world, and all too distant until you know of the victims involved. As I watched my grandson this week I found a little extra energy, let him get away with a few things questionable and loved on him the best I knew how. He’s just five years old but I need to learn from him in order to inherit God’s kingdom. I don’t know if these two heartbroken parents can comprehend God’s love for them right now. The only way they can experience the love, peace and comfort that comes from Christ during this difficult time is to somehow find the resolve to become like the two precious little ones they’ve lost, loving, trusting and completely dependent on God. I pray they find the strength to do just that and that all of us laugh with those who laugh, mourn with those who mourn and hug our loved ones just a little longer than usual and allow His peace to heal all our hurts.

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I Will Never Be Like Him

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He was born into a poor family in rural Mississippi. Upon his birth his mother went right back into the cotton fields where she worked and placed him on the ground in a blanket beneath the shade of a tree that offered little comfort from the 100 degree heat and southern sun and humidity. He was vitamin deficient and and could not fend off childhood illnesses easily. At the young age of just seven, he was made to work in the cotton fields along with adults. Because of his lack of experience and speed, he was beaten mercilessly with the handle of a hoe until sheer adrenaline sped him up. He and hunger were good friends. He was familiar with the pains of an empty stomach. Cornbread and molasses was a welcome treat.  Flour and feed sacks were his daily clothing. 

They would pick 1800 to 2000 lbs of cotton that might yield 400 lbs after being processed. At the age of eight he was put to the plow and would work sun up to sun down. The nearest town for supplies was eight miles away-he walked, and many trips home were in the dark of night before electricity. At age 12 he would work for other area farmers for $1.00 per day, only after his normal work was completed. His dad was not a kind man and would beat him with plow lines at the slightest infringement. This went on most of his adolescent life. He survived childhood Rickets, Rheumatic Fever, heart murmurs, beatings and hunger.  He knew no other life than this.

Perhaps by now you might assume I am portraying the story of a southern slave. I would never be so bold as to draw direct comparisons to their plight, even thought there are similarities in their stories. You may be surprised to find that this is the story of my Dad. It is a story of survival-it is a story of overcoming-it is a story of breaking a cycle through an amazing faith in a God many of us would have dismissed in similar circumstances. And its a story that none of us would have ever imagined as we grew up in our family as his children.

We didn’t learn of our dad’s history until just a few years ago. We were raised in a normal mid-western home and atmosphere. Dad worked for a truck manufacturer and we always had food on the table and clothes on our back. At 6’8″ he was a gentle giant who never unleashed his anger on us.  In fact I can remember explicitly that it really hurt him to spank our butts when needed. Now we understand why. We were never beaten physically or emotionally-quite the opposite!  We were blessed with loving parents who were engaged in our lives and who showed us their faith in God every day. We learned about Christ in church and saw him in action in our parents.  So you might imagine the shock as my brother, sister and I learned of our dad’s harsh upbringing. 

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My dad asked Christ into his life at the age of eight and held to that faith until such time as he was able to leave home and all his past behind him. 2 Corinthians 5:17 says this: Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new!  This surely must be true. We witnessed it without knowing at the time. We were raised and nurtured with all the love, the encouragement, the unity that any family could ask for. We didn’t realize it but we were the broken links of a chain from the past that had been ripped apart by the love and faith of an earthly father determined to be free from generational abuse, and a Heavenly Father who honored the faith of two parents living in His love and pouring it out on us.  

My dad set a standard of fathering that I never reached with my boys. With full disclosure now as an adult to the life my dad overcame and the great distance with which he removed himself from his past, I missed the mark dramatically as a dad. Yet I work everyday, just as I did as a kid, to make my dad proud and to pass along something of his character to our kids and grand kids, three generations removed. I only wish our grand kids could know what a great man he is.

I’ve heard of sons declaring to their dads-“I can’t wait to grow up. I’m never going to be like you!”. Well, I’m grown up and I can truly declare, I will never be like him!  Happy Father’s Day Dad!

 

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Is Your Life a Scary Movie?

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I have always been a fan of scary movies.  I don’t go for the blood and guts genres as much as the drama and suspense. I prefer the Classics like Frankenstein, Dracula, and particularly the not-so-funny spoofs like Young Frankenstein where the monster dons a top hat and sings Puttin’ on the Ritz, ala Broadway.  

I’m amazed with the more modern horror flicks at how many times a monster can be killed off only to be resurrected for a sequel or two or ten. How many ways can Michael Myers be terminated before he stays dead?  Just when you think the boogey man is gone, he re-emerges back into your life unexpectedly to haunt and terrorize you some more. Every time he comes back to life we entertain him some more, almost as if we have been waiting in anticipation for his return.

For many of us our lives resemble a scary movie, haunted by events and decisions in the past that just won’t die. We are constantly haunted by regrets, by failures, by skeletons in our closets that emerge just when we think the coast is clear. For believers in Christ who have been forgiven their sins, the enemy likes to bring them back from the dead into our memory bank like a shadow we can’t lose or the fog we can’t find our way out of. Could we have saved our marriage? Could I have done more to save a business?  Have I really been forgiven of stupid decisions in my past? How can God, who knows everything from the beginning to the end really forget my sins? Instead of living in peace with the assurance of eternal forgiveness we find ourselves like the victim of a scary movie, running for our lives from monsters who just don’t seem to ever die, and we entertain them as if we were expecting them to come back.

The best weapon we have against the haunts of our past is not a wood stake or crucifix or hi-tech ghost zapper. It’s the simple but powerful Word of God and the promises He has given for our assurance.  Consider just a few of these weapons of mass destruction against the enemies of the mind:

2 Corinthians 5:17-If any man be in Christ, he has become a new creature. All things in his past have gone away and everything has become new.

1 John 1:9-when we confess our sins, he is faithful and just and will forgive our sins and cleanse us from all (past and present) unrighteousness. (parentheses mine)

Isaiah 43:25-I am he who blots out your sins for my sake and remembers them no more.

Romans 8:1-There is now no condemnation to those who are now in Christ. 

Psalm 103:12-As far as the East is from the West he has removed our sins from us.

Hebrews 8:12-I will purge them of all evil, and I will not remember their sins again. I will be merciful to their iniquities and their sins I will remember no more.

If we are truly in Christ and beneficiaries of his promises, then there is no reason to give in to the constant reminders by the enemy of where we were and what we did. “I Still Remember What You Did Last Summer” is the name of a fictional scary movie, not the theme of a believer whose sins are covered and buried under grace and forgiveness. It may be impossible for us to completely blot from memory our past, but it is possible through the daily renewing of our minds to change the scary movie channel and find a different station.  Leave the ghost stories for sleepovers and camp fires!

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I Love Being Papa Joe

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In the 70’s during my “cool” phase the thought of someday being a grandparent never invaded my world. I was never going to grow up and I would cling to my coolness for as long as it was cool to do so. By then both of my grandfathers were already gone and I had no real idea what being a grandfather should look like anyway, so why dwell on it.  Then came my three sons and eventually another and two daughters through marriage. Before I realized it I was a grandfather of six!  

Now I can completely appreciate the term because being a grandfather is indeed a grand blessing. Thankfully they don’t call me grandpa but rather Papa Joe, a title that is higher to me than General Manager, President, Owner or any other designation of elevation-being Papa Joe is the coolest thing I could be, and I embrace that title with both humility and pride that no one else could comprehend. 

We have three granddaughters in Texas, and one here in Las Vegas as well as two grandsons. Each of them has a special place in my heart, as I will briefly explain. The oldest of the Lone Star girls, a recent high school graduate, has done an amazing job in helping to care for her younger sisters, and has grown into a beautiful, intelligent and independent young lady. Her middle sister was a newborn when I married their Nana and I fell in love with her just by holding her all that weekend. She has a free spirit and is also an intelligent and beautiful young lady, who will be graduating high school next year.  I developed an immediate connection with the youngest of the three while in Disneyland. She was an infant not yet ready for rides so I carried her most of the day. She quickly grew into rides, mainly on my back whenever we visited. She grew up way too fast and will be an eighth grader next year. They are uncomfortable with being complimented about their God given beauty, but hey, proud Papas don’t have rules.

Every Sunday we picked up our oldest grandson here in Vegas and took him to church.  I played drums in the band and he would cry until I came down to hold him. As he got older he developed an interest in music so I taught him a few guitar chords and now he is one his way to becoming an accomplished guitarist. He is also quite the football player. I was present when our granddaughter was born here 11 years ago and fell in love with her as soon as she cried. She has become a ray of sunlight that can brighten the darkest of my days. Her brother, the youngest of the six, is my little buddy. He is still in the phase that when he sees me, he runs up to me with and animated “Papa” and jumps up into my arms.  He and his sister would visit me in my office frequently. Their presence would make the worst of days a vacation. 

The best of our weekends are those when we are keeping the local grand kids. As the sign above says, what happens att Nana and Papa’s stays at Nana and Papa’s. I can say with all honesty that I love each of our grandchildren as much as any human is capable of. There is nothing in the world I would not do for them-I would gladly lay down my life to save theirs at any time.  I pray for each of them daily, for protection from harm, from abduction, from illness, from anything that would cause them any distress. I also pray that they are open to the reality of God and His Son. And yet with all I feel for them, I’m struck at the thought that God loves each of us with a love that is inhuman, that is untainted and incomprehensible. I’m in awe that that the true depth of love and emotion that any man can have for any other being can not come close to measuring up to the depth of love God shows us daily. To paraphrase a verse in the New Testament, “Stop and observe if you can, the level of Love God the Father has bestowed upon us, that even we in our sins can be labeled Children of the Most High God”. Wow. Wow.

That someone could love me a hundred times greater than I love my grandchildren is indeed incomprehensible. Yet He’s proven it time and again in my life. And I can rest assured that if I can never outrun the love of God, then my grandchildren will never exhaust His supply of love, grace and protection. Thank you God for allowing this cool guy to experience the real coolness of being a proud Papa. 

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Fan Into Flame the Gifts Inside

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There is an episode in my childhood I will never forget. We were at a church function and the boys were picking teams for a basketball game. I was tall for my age, about twelve at the time, and being born in Indiana, the basketball capitol of the world, you might think I slept with a basketball, ala basketball Jones. Nothing could be further from reality. I couldn’t dribble except while eating and I threw the basketball like a baseball, and usually over the backboard.  I was picked dead last-I think I heard the comment “I guess we’ll take him”. Ouch. That hurt a lot. That night I made it my goal to never ever again be the last person picked by a team forced to take me. I bought a basketball and headed to Park Lafayette on the west side of Indianapolis every single day.  I spent four to five hours a day or more watching players, playing with those who were bigger and better than I was, practicing the fundamentals of dribbling, jump shots, bank shots, free throws, blocking out and rebounding (the NBA might find these fundamentals useful). In two short years I was a starter on the grade school basketball team and I continued working to become a starter in high school.  I had the size and the skills but I had done nothing to discover or develop then into ability.  I had to grow into my given skill set.

When I was younger my parents and friends noticed I was always tapping on things, tapping to music, tapping to anything that had a beat. So one Christmas they bought me a blue metallic Ludwig snare drum.  I played that thing in the basement every day until bedtime. In high school I decided to buy my first drum set, a used 5 piece Pearl set.

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Like with basketball I soon discovered that having the right equipment didn’t make me a drummer.  But the gift of rhythm was already inside me so all I needed to do was practice, study and observe others who were better than I was.  One year after purchasing the set I was in a Christian band and playing weekly around the mid-west.  In both instances, I did not create my own talent or gifts, but rather I developed that which was already inside me and did what I could to bring it out for my use and enjoyment.  I have seen seven foot men who couldn’t hit a layup and I’ve seen kids with 12 piece drum kits who couldn’t keep a straight 4/4 beat. We each have to discover our gifts and develop them through practice and patience.

The New Testament speaks about spiritual gifts we all receive when we come to accept and follow Christ. We are each given differing abilities so that we can serve each other in the body of Christ. 2 Timothy 1:6 says that we are to “fan into a flame the gifts that we have received”.  Accepting Christ and deciding to live your life for Him does not make you a minister, a Bible scholar or a small group leader anymore than buying a Bible makes you a believer.  Some in the body have not yet learned this. In working out our salvation with “fear and trembling” there is a learning process that must be accepted and endured. God does not give us developed spiritual gifts, but rather the seeds of these gifts that are ours to cultivate or fan into flame. 

There is something about fire that is captivating. I can sit around my fire pit at night and just get lost in the flames-something just draws me in and holds my attention. It is alive, ever glowing but changing color, always changing while remaining the same. The properties of these gifts God has placed within each of us should have that same affect when others see them at work in our lives. They should be compelling and inviting, showing the love and the way to Christ, opposed to the approach that much of today’s church has taken through Bible weaponry and hatred. But these gifts will remain untapped and dormant if we ignore them or rely on our favorite TV evangelist to somehow reach through the screen and zap us into super Christians through miracles prayers and a generous seed offering. 

Jesus’s parable of the talents comes to mind here. Three individuals were given talents based on their respective abilities.  Two of the three fanned into flame their gifts and doubled them while the one buried his deep with no thought or intent of growth. The two were deemed good and faithful-the one, not so much!  What are we doing to fan into flame that which God has planted in us upon our election?  Can we keep a beat or connect on a jumper, or would we be the last one picked because we have no apparent skills?  While age has decreased my ability to jump or ball the way I once did, spiritual gifts do not decay with age and remain eternal for the benefit and edification of the body of Christ.  God teach us to develop what you have richly given. 

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Misplaced Vicariosity

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We are certainly a peculiar society. Those things that trigger our responses or stir our emotions are curious to say the least. We are all creatures of this addictive behavior and it shows up particularly with the television programs we watch. My wife and I like to watch a program where a couple is buying a house and has three to select from.  I must confess how silly we must sound when they choose any house but the one we selected for them!  And how we get caught up in the waste of time when a bachelor series is on and we are vicariously helping them to eliminate each contestant until just the right one remains, to the point of losing sleep when they once again, against our better judgement make the wrong choice. And need I even mention that popular show about idols when even the Las Vegas odds makers place odds as to who will walk away with the contract.  

What is so fascinating to me is how emotionally vested we get get into reality TV and celebrity scandal situations that have zero bearing on our everyday lives.  Our marriage doesn’t suffer (I don’t think) if he chooses the petite red head instead of the tall blonde; our survival instincts don’t become enhanced when one survivor outlasts the others. And I can testify with all sincerity that my income level didn’t change when Billy Bob won the million dollar singing contract over Mary Jane.  And yet our strange compulsions to live through others is never completely satisfied. We so easily get caught up with the superficial events of those we see and follow on television and the big screen.  We know who’s doing who, who’s cheating, who’s been arrested, who’s coming out and who’s checking into rehab.  We make rag magazines profitable and reality television successful by our patronage.  There is little that goes on in Hollywood that we don’t know about, and we seem to have an opinion on every scandal, as though somehow it affects our every day lives.  Those who don’t even know our names have us tied around their fingers of fame waiting for their next move.

What troubles me most is that we know so little about situations that really matter, moreover we don’t seem to care. There are tragic events that unfold and play out every minute of every day in our world that receive little media coverage or publicity because they don’t make us feel good-they are not pleasant.  Seeing a six year old girl extremely overweight living with a redneck family just as overweight, and celebrating their redneck-ness makes us laugh.  Seeing a little girl impoverished or molested in a 3rd world country brings us down so we dismiss it since there’s nothing we can do to improve the situation.  It’s the natural response-receive stimulation only from those things that make us feel good, but is it the right response? Should we be more in tuned with the human state even when it’s not pleasurable?

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For three weeks now there has been a media frenzy over racists comments made by an eighty year old billionaire NBA Franchise owner.  Talk shows have been buzzing about the cat fight between “real” housewives.  We have been inundated with celebratory images of the 249th draft pick in the NFL.  Our attention is divided by events that have little to do with our personal affairs while we live in ignorance of tragedies that cable TV doesn’t wish to cover.  Over 200 Nigerian girls kidnapped to possibly be sold into slavery by extreme terrorists acting on  “a command from God”, that only gained attention when FB brought light to it. Where is the outrage? Every day Christians are executed because they stand firm in their faith in Christ.  Girls are being crucified nude on crosses so the public will take note and denounce their faith when their time comes. Where is the indignation?  Children are killing children in the streets of America but no one knows their names.  Where are the advocates for these victims? Thousands of children are aborted each day for the sake of convenience before they ever receive a name. Churches are burned, sometimes full of parishioners because they are in violation of state rules against the practice of Christianity. Where is our country in the condemnation of these acts against citizens? And why aren’t we troubled in our spirits at just the thought of these atrocities?  Is this the appropriate humane and Christian response?  

Why are we so selective in what stirs our passions?  If I post a political opine on FB or start a thread on full submersion baptism vs. sprinkling or the use of tongues in today’s church, the thread would go on for days with hundreds of likes and comments.  If I post a picture of a man standing on a dead baby in war torn countries or dead girls on crosses, it will be quickly overlooked with few comments. Our response triggers are perverted-our senses have become numb.  We are truly a peculiar people. God forgive and have mercy on us!  Gotta run-My 800 Pound Life is coming on! 

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But I just Hate Going to the Gym

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When I turned fifty my wife surprised me with a trip to Hawaii, a place I always wanted to visit.  As you might expect we took many photos as it was the first visit for both of us.  Upon our return we couldn’t wait to go through the pictures we had taken. I wasn’t impressed with many of them that I was in. My initial response was “honey, who’s the fat guy you’re with?”  I knew I was out of shape compared to my earlier athletic years, but photos show what mirrors don’t-reality! I was embarrassed.

There is an epidemic of laziness and lethargy in our country. The U.S. boasts some of the best Medical Schools and facilities in the world. Regardless of your opinion of our current healthcare system, most anyone can find treatment for their ailments.  The F.D.A. has stepped in to inform all consumers of the dangers of the foods they consume.  We know what foods contain the highest levels fat and calories, which foods can elevate our cholesterol and blood sugars, which foods can lead to heart issues and even which ones have known carcinogens in them. As a food loving society, we can not plead ignorant to what we consume. Nor can we hide behind the veil of ignorance when it comes to daily exercise. And yet with all this publicized knowledge the U.S. consistently ranks low in the overall world health reviews. Forever we were the most obese nation in the world with over 30% of all citizens being obese-we are still #2! We rank higher on all preventable illnesses, including heart disease, diabetes, COPD and cancers due to smoking and UV exposure. We know, what to do, or what not to do, but like the Apostle Paul, we do just the opposite. 

Each year as I observe the mass rush to local churches for Easter I am compelled to draw the same comparisons to the overall spiritual health of our country and the Christian church in general. We live in perhaps the most religiously tolerant country in the world.

We have the freedom to express our worship and live out our faith to the unlimited degree we desire, or not. Unlike many world countries, the U.S. has more than 450,000 churches, temples or synagogues to choose from. There is no shortage of facilities available for spiritual fitness.  There are radio formats and cable television stations broadcasting daily in most US cities. Bible sales as well as phone and computer apps are profitable ventures, and even Hollywood is starting to cash in on the religious demographic, so that our senses are constantly aware of the spiritual realm. 

But on Easter Sunday, churches prepare for the largest service of the year, some even scheduling multiple services to accommodate all those who will show up for their annual pilgrimage to a house of worship.  Thank God for every person who pulls themselves away from the sofa to attend church on Easter Sunday. But the very next Sunday churches are back to half capacity.  What are we doing to enhance our spiritual fitness the other 51 weeks of the year?  Why are we, especially of the faith, less than zealous to be in service early enough to get a good seat and not miss anything? Where is the local church marketing and evangelism team when it is not Easter or Christmas? Why are many churches closing their doors due to reduced attendance and consequential funding instead of fighting for the fitness of their entire congregation?

There is little urgency in the body of Christ for the same reasons there is little concern over our physical health. If we aren’t sick, haven’t had a stroke or heart attack, haven’t yet developed diabetes or coughed up a lung, we assume all on the inside is well, and why fix something that isn’t broken on the outside. We will get to the gym when we get that first bad medical report.  We have heard all our lives that Christ will return, but it hasn’t happened in over 2000 years, so what’s the rush. We will find our way to church when we lose our job or when we suffer through a nasty divorce or when we have some serious crisis that is bigger than our daily routine. We will exercise our unique religious freedoms by going to church when we feel like it. We will continue to treat our spiritual health on a symptomatic basis, when a pain arises or for an annual checkup.

However the comparisons between our physical and spiritual fitness only go so far.  There is a unique difference that many fail to acknowledge.  Our physical bodies are deteriorating every day toward an eventual physical death, no matter how hard you fought to stay in shape and apply your knowledge of physical fitness.  Our spiritual being, however, goes on into eternity after physical death, in the state and level of fitness you maintained during your lifetime.  Those things we do now to enhance our spiritual fitness, or those ways we simply ignore it, will last an eternity.

When I finally realized the seriousness of my lethargic lifestyle I forced myself to head for the gym at least 3 times each week. While I am not big into repetitive exercise, being around a group of people all there for the same purpose, I felt encouraged to push on and increase my level of activity and stretch myself beyond my current limitations. Might I suggest the same dynamic happens when we attend church with fellow believers. Going to church to worship is only half of our purpose.  According to scripture we are to be there to encourage and be encouraged, to motivate and exhort each other to greater levels of spiritual fitness, something that can’t be done by watching your favorite TV evangelist from the comfort of your sofa by yourself. How many time this week have your worked on your physical and spiritual fitness levels?

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What Really Caused the Death of Jesus

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Each year at about this time we in the Christian faith pause to remember, to commemorate and to celebrate the horrific events surrounding the ultimate sacrifice of Jesus on the Roman cross of shame. It is a time for us to focus, in as much as our minds can comprehend, the level of love shown us by God the Father who gave up His son in order that we might be reconciled to Him through the once and forever sacrifice for our sin. It is the supreme love story that prose or song has yet to be able to fully capture, and that even Hollywood, with all its special effects can’t adequately portray. 

Throughout the years I have studied Roman punishment, specifically the scourging and the crucifixion. There is not enough keystrokes that can describe the horrors of what Jesus endured that day. The lashes He was given were enough to kill many men. The Romans had this down to a science knowing just when to stop to prevent death through blood loss and shock. Death on a cross was an extended torture in most cases lasted days, with the condemned person eventually yielding to death by asphyxiation. The breaking of the legs was to prevent the person from pushing themselves up to relieve the pressure on their lungs and diaphragm so they could breathe, thus causing them to suffocate. Yet Jesus died within hours, not days. Was Jesus just a weaker specimen of a man? Did he die from the physical pain alone from the torture He received before the cross? Did God just have mercy on Him and relieve His Son from suffering?  

We can only speculate, but this week in my studies I was led to something that I knew, but didn’t fully appreciate.  It’s no epiphany-it’s been there all the time-it just took fifty-two years for me to grasp it, and when I did, it was overwhelming!  I have read Isaiah 53 many times in my life, and most of you are familiar with some of the passages. But this week, as I read it for the 100th time or so, I read it differently. Let me attempt to explain. Verse 4 reads “He was wounded for our transgressions, He was bruised for our iniquities..”  I had always interpreted this as a description of the physical beating at the hands of the Roman soldiers. Is that the fullness of this verse?  The New Living Translation of this says that He was wounded and crushed for our sins, again something we’ve heard all our lives, but have we indeed really heard? Verse 6 says that God, His Father, laid upon Jesus, His Son, the guilt, the shame and the punishment for the sins of all mankind! Wow-how was that possible?

I remember vividly growing up as a young boy the feeling I had knowing I was about to be punished, back in the day before it was considered a crime to whoop a child’s butt for disobedience. Those dreaded words, “just wait until your dad gets home”, hearing the phone conversation between your parents, counting down the hours in total fear of knowing that when your dad came through the door, you were going to receive upon your backside the punishment for your crime-the anticipation alone really was all the punishment necessary and was almost always more terrifying than the punishment itself. The hours in waiting seemed like days! Consider then the fact that Jesus, being man but with the full knowledge of God, must have felt the terror of the punishment He was going to eventually endure for years, not hours! I can’t fathom possessing the knowledge of the price that was to be required, and carrying it His entire adult life. That alone would kill a weaker man. 

But there’s more. Consider for a moment verses 8-10, again from the NLT: “But who among the people realized that He was dying for their sins-that He was suffering their punishment? He had done no wrong, and He never deceived anyone. But He was buried like a criminal and put in a rich man’s grave. It was the Lord’s good plan to crush Him and fill Him with grief”. God the Father carried out the punishment and torture of His own Son for the Sins of the world!

The sins of the world-the magnitude of that statement can’t possibly be over exaggerated. Think for a minute about the most horrendous criminals or dictators to ever walk the earth through World History. How does one begin to categorize them?

Stalin is responsible for 27 million deaths. Mao Zedong as attributed with over 70 million! Kim Jong II killed 20 million. King Herod killed innocent children in hopes of killing Jesus. Then there is Adolf Hitler, who records show killed more than 6 million of God’s chosen people! God exacted punishment for these and other historic atrocities that day on the cross, and Jesus bore the guilt and shame for them, Hussein, Manson, Bin Laden, and the list goes on and on, and includes me. Jesus took the blame, the overwhelming “wait til your Father hears” guilt, the heaviness of shame and the ultimate punishment on His shoulders that day on the cross! My hands tremble and my words are few at the thought. Every murder, every theft, every rape, every lie, every convenient abortion, the martyrdom of every believer, including His Apostles, every hostile act of war between countries, every act of disobedience man ever perpetrated going back to the garden of Eden and Cain killing his brother Abel, and every sin that will ever be committed for time to come, including every individual denial of the deity of Jesus the Christ was placed upon Jesus the man as He hung on the cross. God so severely crushed His own Son that He couldn’t look upon His shame and would not even respond when Jesus cried out from the cross “why have you forsaken me?’. 

Why did Jesus only last a few ours on the cross? I would offer that the weight and guilt of the sins of all history broke His heart and His spirit. He paid a price that can’t be comprehended so that we might be called the Sons of God. This is one of those times when there are no words!  How do we receive such an awesome gift without the full realization of the priceless nature of the same?  

And yet the tragedy remains that many for which he was chastised will go to their deaths never receiving the grace, the mercy or forgiveness provided on that day we celebrate this week. Many will make their semi-annual pilgrimage to their local church to watch a play or hear some music about these blessed events and then return to their every day lives without ever being changed by the story. And sadly it’s true that many of us in the faith will go about the busyness of Easter without ever receiving the full revelation of Christ’s Passion in our lives. God, forgive us for not knowing-Jesus, forgive us our inability to fully comprehend! Grant us this Easter season a full revelation of the events we celebrate and may we carry in our hearts the magnitude of this offering all the year through. 

 

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When There Are No Words

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Have you ever been in a situation when you were at an absolute loss for words? Perhaps it was when you saw your child in their first school or church play, or maybe their first musical recital.  Maybe you were left speechless when friends threw a surprise party for you.  With most of us there have been occasions in our lives when words simply escaped us. For me it was the moment I realized how in love I was with the lady who would soon be my wife. I have always loved writing and thought I possessed a fair mastery of the English vernacular, that is until I tried to put into words the depth of emotions  I was feeling for her. Yes, I wrote her a poem or two-even had one of them published in a poetry anthology. But even with that, I still felt I could not come up with adequate words to express my love for her.   After seventeen years of marriage I am only more aware of this observation.

As much as I love my wife, imagine with me if you can how much more of a challenge I have in approaching God.  There are no words to describe the challenge of having no words!  After all, one can’t even describe God.  When He sent Moses to rescue the children of Israel, Moses asked Him “who should I tell them is sending me?”  God replied “tell them my name is I Am”.  I almost believe even God couldn’t describe Himself in a way that we would understand.  I Am pretty much covers it all with an infinite number of fill-in-the-blank descriptions.   There are no textbook definitions that are remotely adequate to express the person and deity of God.

So if we can’t even find words to describe God, then how can we possibly find words to express our loving response to an indescribable God? It can’t be done. There are no words. Oh many have tried-the writings of the early church fathers are masterful and the hymns written over the centuries have moved us to tears when reflecting on all we know and don’t know about God.  Yet all who have tried have come up short in their attempts.  The created can’t capture in human language the Creator.

When you are with someone you truly love there are those times when just being in their presence is enough. Love is shared and expressed at times when words would get in the way. How cool is it that we can approach God with the confidence of knowing the same holds true for us. In our intimate prayer or reflection time with God we can be assured that God sees our hearts and knows our deepest thoughts so that are linguistic inadequacies are not an issue. We are told in scripture that there are times when His spirit in us prays for us in groans that need no words. There is dialogue between our inner spirit and God’s heart that we wouldn’t understand even if it were somehow audible.  Thou shouldest not have need of  expressing thyself to the Almighty with Shakespearean prose thou canst comprehend or a language thou knoweth not of!

With people we may feel at a loss in trying to relay to them the depths of our emotions, but with God, there is no shortage of understanding even when there are no words.

Father, let my words be few.

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Play to the River

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With the recent interest in Poker and the televised World Series of Poker held each year here in Las Vegas, it’s hard to live here and not indulge in some live poker action from time to time.  My game of choice is Texas Limit Holdem, the same as played on the WSOP but with limits on betting. The game is simple in that each player is dealt two hole cards and then uses them with the community cards dealt to the table to make the best hand possible, or bluff your way to the pot if you have nothing.  The first three community cards the dealer lays down is called the Flop. Upon the Flop each player will bet or fold their hand. Then a single card is dealt, the fourth card, referred to as the Turn card.  Again, the remaining players will bet out or fold based on what they can play or bluff. The remaining and often deciding card, the fifth community card is called the River.  More times than not, this card determines the value of your hole cards and whether you were correct to play your hand or if perhaps you should have folded and cut your losses.  There is a lot of strategy involved from knowing odds, reading faces, ability to act or remain completely silent.  You will notice if you watch live poker on TV that players will wear shades to prevent other players from being able to see their eyes.  Eyes can give away a players hand value.  The best players in the world are those who leave their shades at home and play to the River.

I can’t help but to draw a comparison between poker and life, especially as we try to walk after Christ.  Okay, so I just lost about half of you who are thinking how can a Christian compare a spiritual journey to a poker game.  This isn’t about advocating or prohibiting live gambling-that’s a matter of personal conviction. Let me continue in my own words. When you are playing and your dealt hole cards are two Aces or and Ace and King, you might get excited at the great chances you have of winning the hand. Many people are born into situations of advantage and apparent ease. Maybe you’ve never suffered personal loss. Maybe your family has wealth and you had good schools and education, married right and have perfect kids.  Life so far is good. But then life happens. It’s an amazing statistic in poker that Aces lose close to half of the time! The hand may be the highest hand you can start with but can easily lose to three deuces or a small straight. How many times have we seen the perfect family from the outside suffer through a painful affair and divorce, or their kids ending up drug addicts. You hear the comments that they came from good homes-no one expected the outcome-everyone is shocked. When you are dealt a high hand you are not guaranteed success. In fact it requires a greater strategy to protect your hand from loss because the River card can give someone a winning straight or a flush and you will lose all you have invested in what you deemed a sure thing. We see it every day-politicians caught in affairs-corporate CEOs caught embezzling-rich kids being convicted of felony crimes and yes, Pastors and evangelists stepping away from ministry due to improprieties. When we measure our two-seven hand against a pair of Kings we feel like we were short changed and have no chance of winning. The temptation to fold and throw away the hand is great. To stay in at this point would require more time and investment and your losses could be increased.

On the other hand (pun intended) life deals you the lowest hand possible, a two-seven off suit. You see no value in staying in the game and in most cases you would fold this hand-it has little chance of being a winner. You weren’t born into privilege. You have an illness that affects your lifestyle. You can’t find adequate work, the kids don’t call, you may be alone due to divorce or separation, depressed and ready to fold. Yet you have a faith and a belief in someone higher-Christ, who sees your hand and may even be your dealer, and in spite of overwhelming odds you play the hand and stay in the game.   One rule of poker is you can’t cash a pot if you aren’t in the hand to the end.  So you journey on and wait to see if life will improve on your hand. Then comes the Flop, the first three community cards, a six, a three and a King-all different suits, no help to you or your cause at all. In fact the over card of the King reduces your chances of winning even more. Surely someone in the game is holding a King and just paired up. You have virtually no shot of winning this hand.

The enemy likes this game. He likes to remind us of our failures, our short comings, our history and track record. We look at the percentages and feel like the enemy is right. It’s easy to feel the weight of doubt when we focus on what we can see and not on what might be coming for us. It’s hard to claim the promises of God when we can’t see the evidence of favor in our current circumstances, when we can’t hear his voice when we pray, when we desperately long for his presence but can’t seem to find him.  I can’t begin to tell you how many hands I threw away only to find that the Turn and River cards would have secured the victory for me if only I had stayed in the hand.  And yet against overwhelming odds and a hand full of relative nothing, you play on because the Spirit prompts you to remain faithful.

The Turn card is a five-no help, no pairs, nothing to bet out on except a pure bluff. It is so hard to continue the fight when it appears that nothing is falling your way. You go to church, you pray, you study the Word, you give, you feel like you are doing everything right but just can’t find victory or peace in your life, and can’t get beyond the hand you are holding, but you play on and ask for God’s help and peace in your struggles, believing with everything in you that he still has a plan for your life.

The River card comes out, almost in slow motion.  On live TV the dealing of the River is extended to create drama as it can make the difference. The card is a four. You played out a losing hand all the way to the River in faith that God was working on your behalf even if you couldn’t detect his engagement, even if there was no evidence of success, even though many had advised you to lay down the hand and quit. But you played on to the River and found that you were in possession of a straight, a hand that wins most every time.  That one little card dealt last, that off suit 4, tied all the lose ends of your scattered life together in a way that now made sense. All your nothingness now had value and secured for you a winning hand. Your faithfulness paid off and the hand life dealt you was victorious after all!

If you are holding a hand full of nothing and are tempted to fold it and give up, be encouraged that no hand wins until the River card is dealt, and that as long as you are in the hand, you can still win! Thank God for his promises which are true. Thank God that he has plans for us that we know nothing about until it’s revealed just in time. I am currently holding a hand full of nothing. The circumstances I face aren’t what I’d call a winning hand and I’m not sure exactly what God is up to in my life. But I know enough to stay in the game, stay faithful to God even if I lose the hand, and by all means, play all the way to the River!  God Bless!

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You, God and a Steel Cage Match

In order to write this I must with some apprehension admit to being a classic wrestling fan.  Ask most fans to name the stars of Wrestling Entertainment and you will hear the likes of Hulk Hogan, The Rock, John Cena, Stone Cold, etc. But I remember the good old days when wrestling wasn’t a major event or pay per view, but the local circuit that performed at State Fairs and small halls.  I grew up watching Dick the Bruiser, Bobo Brazil, Yukon Moose Chollak, The Big Cat Ernie Ladd and others. As a kid I didn’t notice the pulled punches, the next move play calling in the corner or other now obvious giveaways to the “entertainment” value of wrestling.  I saw two giants trying to beat down the other.

steel cage

There was nothing better than the Steel Cage Match, a cage that surrounded the ring with a lock or chain on the door that prevented the wrestlers from running or escaping the beat down they were about to receive. This was not a match for the weak, no sir-this was a blood bath of major proportions that was reserves as the main event of the evening due to the clean up necessary afterwards.  I’d imagine being in the ring against the “bad” guys and laying a few classic moves on them, the old abdominal stretch, a clothesline or two, and before it was outlawed, the pile driver.  I always won!

There was a grappler in the Old Testament named Jacob. We find in Genesis that he was locked in a not-for-entertainment real battle with the Lord.  Jacob didn’t start this fight, but he was certainly eager to participate and he wrestled and clawed and held on for what may have been hours with the Lord or His agent in order to receive a blessing from God.  Jacob was allowed to be engaged in this fight until his will and his energy were spent and he was at the mercy of God, having nothing left with which to resist. Even after the Lord touched Jacob’s hip and put it out of socket Jacob wouldn’t let up. Jacob was eventually rewarded for his fierce tenacity and received his blessing along with a name change. Jacob named the place of the event of that night with a name not indicative of his battle and victory, but of his humility of being allowed to wrestle with God and survive.

Wow, have there been some times in my life that I envied Jacob! How I longed for an opportunity to wrestle with God in a steel cage to show my sincerity and desire to receive God’s blessing and favor in my life or over a certain situation. Foolishly, to have God in a cage where He couldn’t escape my clutches until He gave me what I was asking for. Why, I’m sure God would be impressed with my wrestling knowledge and quiver of moves. He’d really have to be on His game to beat me!

Aren’t we funny. We have God all figured out and applied to man made formulas of interaction, as if certain key words or actions will trigger His response or gain an out-flowing of His favor.  If we say this prayer this many times and quote this verse backwards while performing a step over toe hold, God will cry uncle and give in to our relentlessness.  How I wish it were that easy. The fact is God doesn’t need to be in a cage as He has no desire to escape or hide from us. Jesus said “I am with you always”, even when we (I) can’t see Him or sense Him or hear Him.  Most times we are wrestling against ourselves with what we know to be truth and the enemy who wants to power bomb us with lies. We “wrestle not against flesh and blood” but it sure seems it would be easier at times if we could.  At least the sensation of pain would be a confirmation of divine engagement.  It is believed that Jacob walked with a limp from his encounter with God until the day he died. How cool to carry in your body the evidence of a face to face with the Almighty! Better yet to be in an old fashioned slobber-knocker with God in a steel cage!

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God’s Deafening Silence

downloadGod’s Deafening Silence.

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Severe Storm Warnings

Today much of the Midwestern and Eastern part of the Country woke to snow measured in feet, not inches and temperatures below zero.  The News channels covered stories of multitudes of people converging on stores to pick up the essentials necessary to weather the storm, heeding the warnings they had received about the coming blizzard.  I recall living on the coast of Florida that most of the homes had hurricane shutters that could be closed to minimize the damage from storms that were a given for their area.   In the Midwest tornado alley many homes have storm cellars to escape the winds of tornado season.  In some Gulf States homes on the beach are built on stilts to encounter the high surge of water that comes with their seasonal storms.  In each case provisions are made to enable the structures to survive inevitable storms they are sure to encounter.

Our lives are going to encounter storms. It’s not a matter of if but when.  In fact as believers we are told in more than one place in the New Testament that we will face storms in our lives.  Jesus said that in this life we would have troubles.  Comforting, isn’t it! We may have to weather storms of divorce, storms of bad health or disease, storms of unemployment or failing businesses, storms of unexpected loss of loved ones or just the storm of depression or loneliness. As I write I’m in the eye of a storm of my own.  All of us at some point of our life will experience a major and unwelcome storm.  We can’t escape life’s tragedies, unless you are like the blonde who heard that all accidents happen within a mile of where you live, so she moved! (Okay, if you are blonde change it to brunette). How we fare the severe weather has everything to do with how well prepared we are when it hits us.

For the believer there are essentials made available to us to navigate any kind of bad weather.  We have The Word, our daily how-to manual for the Christian life. We have a 24 hour prayer channel for live chats with God. We have the support of brothers and sisters in the faith to hold us up and encourage us until the storms pass.  We need to build our lives on these solid essentials. Jesus told a story about two builders of houses, one built on a solid foundation and one not so solid.  The house built on the solid rock withstood the storm while the other crumbled.  We have to presume from the story that both houses faces similar storms but with drastically differing results.

If you wait until you are snowed in or until the roads are washed out before you venture out to get what you need for the storm, you will find it too late or too difficult to acquire the proper supplies. While it is never too late to cry out to God or begin praying and studying The Word, you will find it much easier to handle a life crisis when you already have a good foundation of prayer and study habits.  Jesus did say we’d have storms, but He also said to have no fear since He’d already overcome them for us.  I like the verse in the popular 23rd Psalm, when we walk through the valley.  Nothing is said of us passing over it or going around it, but that we have the tools needed to go through it.

No one likes storms. Even having the knowledge that sometimes God deliberately puts us in the midst of trials to teach us to depend on Him makes the storms no less welcomed. I’m weight training again and building stronger muscles requires pain and discomfort.   The methods God uses to build us up are uncomfortable at best, and extremely painful at worst. But know that Jesus faced all these trials during His life on earth so we could have victory and peace when we pass through them if Christ is part of our storm kit. As painful or as lonely or isolated as you may feel in the midst of the storm, take comfort in knowing there is a calm waiting for us when it dies down, as it surely will.

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New Year Resolutions and Other Lies

As the New Year approaches I am sure to be among countless millions who will be reflecting on the past year and formulating resolutions for improvement for the upcoming year.  Like the short lived season of charity manifested just before Christmas, we find within us a desire to clean house and make self-improvement adjustments on the last few days before the new year begins.  Our motives may be different-maybe you don’t like the way you look at the beach, or maybe you are weary of the burden of your job or finances.  Whatever the reason, New Year’s just seems like the time to proclaim change for the year ahead. For many however, it’s a time of disappointment as we reflect on the resolutions we made for the soon to end year and come to the annual reality check of our lack of resolve to follow through with what seemed at the time like good resolutions.

Maybe this was the year we were going to learn to play a new instrument. Or perhaps this was the year to finally get a grip on our finances and pay down our debt.  If you’re among the majority, this was probably the year when you were going to lose that extra twenty pounds you’ve been carrying all year long but were suddenly most aware of after the food-filled holidays.  Whatever your list may have included, I’d bet we all fared about the same-poorly!  I saw a statistic lately that said most of us manage to keep only 8-10% of our New Year resolutions.  Ouch!

The desire to improve one’s self is admirable and understandable.  Most of us want to be better at who we are or what we do.  As a Christian believer on a life long faith journey, that desire to be better seems daunting when considering our ultimate example.  And whether of the faith or not, the realization of how far we have to go in light of where we want to be seems unattainable, like the perfect golf game. No matter how low a score you shoot, you can always do one stroke better, and you may spend your entire life striving to reach for something that is simply out of reach.  We are all in the same boat when it comes to letting ourselves down through self reflection of broken resolutions.

And yet I am encouraged when I consider the lives of the great names of our Christian faith, the Prophet Elijah, King David, Peter the Disciple and the Apostle Paul, author of most of our New Testament.  These are men who at times in their lives failed miserably, even after witnessing first hand the miracles and the magnitude of the God they served, something most of us can’t comprehend.  The Apostle Paul confessed to his own shortcomings, doing what he knew not to do, and not doing what he knew to be right.  But in the end, these are the men and the examples that we try to emulate as we approach Christ, the supreme example.  Finding myself in such company of those who fell short at times in their walks gives me courage and resolve to keep walking and keep striving for my own betterment without fear of occasional slip ups. The revelation that each year we’re given on Earth is merely a step in a long journey should keep us motivated through those times when we let ourselves down.

We serve a God who delights in our earnest attempt to be the salt and light of the earth, even thought He knows we will fall so many times like a child learning to ride a bike or stay up on skates.  When we fail he showers us with mercy and helps us back to our feet, over and over again with the grace and patience only a loving Father could posses. Like Paul, who admitted that he wasn’t yet where he needed to be in Christ, we keep striving for the higher calling, knowing each year we may not get it all right, but staying focused on the journey by not being distracted by our recent failures.

Who can be like Christ?  Who among us can adequately display the goodness in our lives that He illustrated for us as He walked our Earth? Daunting? Absolutely! Achievable? Hardly. But with grace and mercy and forgiveness we can look back on the promises we made to ourselves last year knowing that if He who is perfect cuts us some slack for our low scores, we should be as forgiving for our unmet resolutions. And it is in this spirit of grace that I can prepare my list of resolutions for the New Year and continue my journey to be the husband, the father, the grandfather and the man God wants me to be, always trying my best but knowing I’ll be expected to fall off the bike at times.  My resolution this year? Lots of prayer and a good bike helmet!  Happy New Year!

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The Day After Christmas

Since my earliest recollections as a young child I have sensed December 26th as the day Christmas ends until the following year.  Until recently I didn’t even like hearing Christmas songs on the radio after Christmas day! I have heard from others that I’m not alone in this sensation of the holiday hangover. It’s really a bit odd if you think about it, especially from the Christian perspective. The day we have traditionally set aside as Christmas is to recall with great reverence the incarnation of Jesus, The Christ, a blessed and most holy event that transcends every other holiday commemoration, an event that is the cornerstone of our faith.  Why would it be that we choose to be unnaturally charitable and celebratory over it for a mere couple weeks in December?  What exactly is it about Christmas that builds us up to a particular day on the calendar with a finality when the clock strikes midnight?  Why do we experience “peace on earth, good will to men” only one or two weeks out of the year?  

I stand guilty as charged as each year I vow to keep the Christian mandate of our Savior, to take care of the widows and orphans throughout the year, not just during the “feel good” holiday, yet find as I look back a year later that I failed just like the many years before. It’s almost as if charity and benevolent considerations are an annual obligation, like taxes, that once paid are not due for another year.  And yet I pass the same homeless people every day, I read the same stories about runaway teens, I pass the same local missions on the way to work surprisingly at the same location as the day before without that Christmas tug at the heart.  Even the local Christian radio station sponsors random acts of kindness, going out of your way to pay for the lunch of a perfect stranger or the coffee order for the one behind you in line-great ideas that should be 12 month practices among us of the faith, and those of philanthropic awareness.  

I guess to me the feelings that are ushered in with Christmas are natural and built in through years of tradition, not unlike doing something nice for your wife on Valentine’s Day.  But to continue those practices when “not in season” takes a conscious effort to see, to recognize and respond as if there are only 5 shopping days left until Christmas and with the sounds of carols playing in your mind. There should never be a bad, inconvenient or out of season time to do something charitable for someone in need or to be a blessing when God is urging you to respond.  When the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, He didn’t show up and perform a miracle or two once every twelve months.  In fact the Bible is clear that it’s not possible to record all the good things Jesus did in His short time on our planet.  

In 2014 I earnestly pray that I have ears that hear cries, that I have eyes that see hurt and that I have a heart that compels me to move and respond as the reaching hands and feet of our Savior in the colors of Spring, in the burning heat of a Las Vegas Summer day, in the warm winds of Autumn and on the 12 days of Christmas.