September 19, 2015 § 1 Comment
C.S. Lewis, Till We Have Faces
I thought it good to reenter into the blogosphere by way of confession, so pardon the meandering – there really is a point.
First the ridiculous. You need to know that I have this propensity to find what I like and then hold on to it – like forever, whether a pair of shoes, a style of pants, or a shirt (our Congregation will tell you that I only wear one shirt on Sunday mornings!). My guess is that it is born of tons of insecurity, control and pride, but it is the way it is. For instance, I have worn the same style of top siders for about ten years, and normally I have a backup pair – in the box for when the initial pair ‘dies.’ When that backup is gone and there is no other and the shoes are unattainable (because in a sane universe things go out of style), it unnerves me and sends me on a twisted journey to find its replacement (which I would prefer not to have to do – thus the backup!).
Hey, I warned you. Ridiculous, right?
When we moved to the Baltimore region nearly ten years ago I thought my life was over. It wasn’t because the people we left hated us or the people we came to were other than welcoming. It was because I held on to the idea of living in my hometown for life (yes, idolatry). But somewhere in that delusion, God stirred our hearts to move. How could He do this and still love me? It was the most disruptive, confusing and dislodging time of my life, and our lives. But the Father’s leading was unmistakable. He wanted us here. And we have since discovered that it was out of love that He did.
Baltimore has become home and we are blessed.
If you read Joseph’s story, you will find that ‘the Lord was with Him,’ and prospered him in Egypt, even when as slave, and later when imprisoned on false charges (chapter 39). He continued to thrive and care for people.
I have come to realize that most of us live out of unholy trajectories for how our lives should unfold. If we become slaves to these trajectories, then well, we are just that – slaves. In this pattern regret becomes torturous, forgiveness seems impossible, and the present, intolerably joyless.
But we were redeemed to flourish, and if we buy into the fact that we have a Father who loves us, who sent His only Son on the most dangerous, yet redemptive journey of all – for us – then we have discovered something. We have discovered that our true trajectory is heaven and everything between now and there – is good.
Friends, the gospel is an adventure to be embraced…
March 7, 2015 § Leave a comment
C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory
If you have ever lived in the north, then you know that snow is part of the seasonal rhythm of life. Having grown up in the tropics, I still find it to be magical. There is something about watching it fall, and then seeing an entire area that has been turned white by hours of God’s carefully placed flakes and flurries upon a landscape. Don’t get me wrong. I could do without the cold! Seasonal life has a way of bringing both anticipation of the next season, and weariness with the present.
But then there is the inevitable cleanup. Municipalities constantly attempt to get ahead of the snow, salting roads, positioning plows and alerting citizens.
Unless one can ‘dig out,’ they are stuck. The other night, after a lovely eight-inch snow, Katherine and I got out and shoveled our entryways, the back of our garage, and then the car we had parked outside. You have to dig out in order to get out.
At our church, a large facility on 62-acres, it is crucial for us to be plowed, cleared and salted, in order for people to enter. A team of unsung heroes, both from our Staff and contracted, work tirelessly, with heavy equipment, doing what is needed for our church to be ready for whatever activity or gathering is scheduled.
This hit me freshly yesterday as I watched our crew work, while at the same time fifty or sixty Middleschoolers sledded and snowboarded down a hill on the property. While the Young People played, the workers plowed. Or to put it another way, the workers plowed so that our Young People could play.
I so love that.
Sometimes our own sense of anonymity can be torturous if we have no greater context. We want to matter, right?
I know what happens – Our tendency is to narrow our influence to the small quarters we work or live in. It is hard to conceive of an influence beyond what we know. But you see, the gospel demonstrates the opposite.
Hey, I don’t know what you do in life, but I can tell you this: Whether you are high profile, or all but invisible, you matter, and what you do matters to God. Someone is affected by who you are and what you do. Can your ego enable you to accept this? If not, flee to the Throne! Just read through the scriptures and rediscover the attention God places on those who labored behind the scenes. An unnamed slave girl in Syria comes to mind (2 Kings 5).
What you do may never grab the headlines, but have you read the headlines lately? Besides, in the end, isn’t it the sweeter things that matter most when it comes to a meaningful life?
And isn’t it stunning that the most meaningful Person in history was born in anonymity, that in Him, what appeared to His contemporaries to be an act of meaningless sacrifice, turned out to be the only hope of the world.
In fact, this is our good news…
November 15, 2014 § 2 Comments
C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce
The other night, Katherine and I sat in our courtyard, beside a small fire, reflecting on our lives together, our family and children, our ministry and calling – you name it. There is something about a fire that seems to suspend all urgency, and draw us into such conversation. And yes, we listened to Christmas music as we did, while sipping on hot chocolate.
As we conversed, we agreed that much of what we thought to be important many years ago in our lives was not so important after all. It wasn’t so much about regret, but of perspective. The thing is that we would not trade anything for where we are now. Fortunately God’s hand has not been thwarted by our stumbles.
‘If I had to do it over again…’ can be a dangerous statement. So can, ‘What if…’ Micromanaging our pasts and obsessing over the future only steal from the present.
Unfortunately the Church hasn’t always been helpful in this area. Through the years Christians have fixated on the future to the point of madness, parsing events and people, while attempting to fit them into a sensationalized ‘end times’ blockbuster movie-type scenario. Authors have raked in millions, feeding off the fears and frenzy of ‘end times’ enthusiasts.
But the gospel teaches that what God will one day do, He is already doing – Right Now. He didn’t identify Himself to Moses with the words, ‘I was’ – It was, ‘I am,’ and you can hear this in Jesus’ prayer, ‘Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven…’
The gospel works because of this. It enables us to find fresh hope in the moment – Today. Only our regrets and fear of the future will rob us of enjoying God’s grand design for our lives in the present.
Within weeks we will read and recite the beautiful announcement, ‘Today, in the city of David, a Savior has been born…’ This is the refrain we find throughout the scriptures – it is all so present tense!
In fact, you would be hard pressed to find a single instance in Jesus’ ministry, in which He dwelled on the pasts of the people He encountered. Other than opening one woman’s eyes to His ability to see through her defenses, He never drudged up incidents and failures of the people He healed and consoled. He was all about the moment.
This was no accident. It was His announcement that with the Father there is grace to continue on with the journey, in spite of our pasts that are speckled with failures, poor decisions and regrets, as well as with the future unknown.
Settle this in your minds and hearts, friends: Regret over the past and Anxiety over the future are not on the Father’s radar.
‘You can step out into it at any moment…’
That’s good news…
March 22, 2014 § 1 Comment
“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilization—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors… Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses.” C.S. Lewis, The Weight of Glory
This past week I was thrilled to meet up with an old friend and one of the most inspiring people I have ever known. When we first met, Jenni Gold was 10 years old and I was an 18 year-old volunteer church youth worker. Jenni has Muscular Dystrophy and was in a full body cast at the time, having had a steel rod surgically placed in her spine. Along with her parents, her two amazing sisters provided an environment of healing. The only thing they wouldn’t offer was sympathy, and this produced a will that far surpassed the strength of the rod in her back. We became fast friends, all of us. She fully entered into the life of our Youth Group. The word ‘limitation’ was not in her vocabulary. It still isn’t.
After graduating with a double major from the University of Central Florida in Orlando, Jenni, along with her husband Jeff, moved to California, determined to produce movies. Today she is the co-founder of Gold Pictures in Universal City, CA. On Wednesday we reunited in DC to see a viewing of her Documentary, CinemAbility, a stunningly beautiful film about the history of the entertainment industry in relation to people with disabilities. She was also in DC to accept the 2014 American Association of Persons with Disabilities Image Award, presented by Danny Woodburn (‘Mickey’ on Seinfeld!).
In accepting the award, Jenni sited Paul’s words in Philippians 4:13, thanking Christ who gives her strength, and so revealed the source of her amazing will and character. Somewhere along the way, in all she has endured and overcome, as a little girl, and since, Jenni met Jesus. And He has provided everything she needs to be nothing short of amazing.
She mounts up with wings like eagles. She runs and doesn’t grow weary. She walks and doesn’t faint.
And she happens to have MD.
It is Lent. The world is broken. Suffering is part of the daily narrative.
But Jesus has come. And in entering into our brokenness by subjecting Himself to temptation, sorrow and pain, even death, by His resurrection He has assured that until He returns, and regardless of our circumstances, we may dance to the song of His redemption.
Friends, there is no greater news…
Taken on Palm Sunday in 1977 when Jenni joined the church
February 1, 2014 § 1 Comment
Ron Swanson, Parks and Recreation
This morning, upon entering the Mall at Columbia, the site of the unspeakable act of violence that resulted in the taking of three lives last Saturday, we were handed ribbons in order to join in unified sorrow, and to participate in a moment of silence at the time the shootings occurred.
Pain and sorrow exist in a broken world – and they always will until Jesus makes all things new, and everything is restored to what it was always intended to be. This is something we don’t naturally understand because pain is not written into our DNA. Deep within, we know that we were created to be whole, and pain threatens wholeness. It is a polluting element in a world that was intended to be filled with justice, flourishing and peace (this is captured in the Hebrew word ‘shalom’). We cry when we are sad, and ache when there is distress because pain, suffering and evil will never ‘fit’ our human impulses.
Unfortunately the Church’s response often comes in the form of judgment and isolation, although Jesus did just the opposite. Rather than condemn, He came to heal, and instead of insulating Himself in self-protective seclusion from pain and suffering – even sin – He embraced it to Himself.
So until He comes and makes everything new, sorrow, heartache and tragedy will always be part of the human experience, not because of sins, but because of the first sin, when the beauty, loveliness and glory of the Garden were violated by Adam’s rebellion.
But because Jesus (the scriptures call Him ‘the last Adam’) has come and has submitted Himself to the very rebellion and violence that brokered the fall, the curse has been broken forever. One day every remnant and memory of the fall will be eradicated from the human experience.
In the mean time the Church is called to something higher than self-righteous condemnation and self-preserving isolation. It is called to imitate Jesus, who entered into this world’s pain and sorrow, and to embrace the brokenness He embraced, when He came for us.
Can you think of any higher calling?
This is our good news.
November 23, 2013 § 3 Comments
“Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”
C.S. Lewis, The Four Loves
Life is difficult. This is the first line of M. Scott Peck’s book, The Road Less Traveled. Life is difficult, and love sometimes seems an unobtainable dream in the disappointments, pitfalls and disparities of life as it wears on.
Broken hearts. Broken promises. Unrealized dreams. Unforeseen calamities. Unbearable trials. Painful seasons. Haunting Regrets. Betrayals. Sedentary Relationships.
All have their ways of extinguishing the dream of love.
The picture posted above is from our basement wall. Katherine and one of our daughters had left the house to me while I painted, and to signal to them that the work had begun, I painted the now-famous heart – the less-than-three sign. Once that went on the wall, the commitment was made. Someone had to slosh the walls with blue.
It is curious to me that the closer he moved to the Cross the more Jesus’ teachings were predominated by love, particularly with His disciples who that very evening would betray and abandon Him to His captors
Our instinct is to do the opposite. Whenever disappointment threatens, we tend to insulate ourselves against fresh experiences with pain. We say and do harmful things to protect our fragile hearts. We force ourselves to be cold and uncaring.
Love is the last thing we want to risk our vulnerabilities on because we are never more exposed than when we open our hearts to the possibility of their being broken.
I get that. Life is difficult and Love is terrifying. Who has room for Love and all the mess it brings?
But it is also what we most yearn for. To love and be loved. And someone has to make the first move. Someone has to start painting.
So God did.
Let it be your prompt to love those who may be hiding from you behind their own self-protections, though every bit as terrified. Start painting. Forgiveness, tenderness and vulnerability are scandalously risky. We know. Jesus went there for us. Trust me, Love is the first stroke.
He knew the risks when He opened His mouth to call the disciples His friends. Amazingly, to Him they were worth it.
So are you.
What good news.