The Rosary?!

Over the past year I've taken a look into a few spiritual practices to enhance my time with the LORD.  Well, technically all of our life is in the LORD.  Funny how we try to separate it out in American Christianity.  If there is a downfall in modern Fundamentalist Evangelical Christianity it certainly is the lack of discipling/mentoring.  I've complained before that it's a very arms length faith where you pray "The Sinner's Prayer" you get patted on the head, handed a gift Bible and told, "Good luck!".  When you ask what the next steps are the powers that be shrug and tell you, "Uh...pray and read your Bible every day."  Well great, thanks.  

If you're like me that leads to a sort of choice paralysis.  How do I pray? What do I pray? And how is the best way to study this thing called "the Bible"?  Furthermore, as a young FEC, you find out that the one major guideline is "As long as it isn't Catholic it's good.  If it even hints at something Catholic it needs to be burned and purged from all existence within the life of the believer.  You're safe as long as you just pray and read your Bible.  Now, run along and quit asking so many questions."

For an inquiring mind, such as mine, none of this is sufficient.  Yes, I believe Luther was correct in all 95 thesis that he posted on the door.  Yes, I believe that the Catholic church got things wrong.  However, this "purge and reject in totality" mental state of FEC has done far more damage than good.  I was talking about our church's use of an advent wreath and the reflections of advent with someone recently and they gave me this weird side glance and leaned away from me.  They asked, "Why is your church doing that?  That's a Catholic thing.   Advent wreaths aren't in the Bible."  Well, neither are Christmas trees, exchanging presents or Santa Claus but they swallow that wholesale.  As I write this I notice that they seem quite content to embrace some catholic things embraced by the world and not others...but that's another rant for another time.  

The Catholicism-phobia has been to the universal church's detriment in many ways but particularly in the spiritual disciplines.  There are many practices that get derided as mysticism...but I'm fairly comfortable with a few of them.  "Here's how you do this," is a much more manageable and adaptable system than "Pray whenever you want and read the Bible...if you get around to it.  Your name is down in the Book of Life so I wouldn't worry about it too much" and it produces far more reliable results. Now is where I get to the uncomfortable bit on which I'm certain I will be challenged or at least looked at sideways and leaned back away from.

A long time ago I went to the oldest church in the New World, a small Catholic outpost in Puerto Rico that holds the remains of Ponce De Leon.  I literally almost bumped into De Leon's remains because I was amazed by this place.  One of my interesting attributes is a get a literal high from encountering history in the flesh, as it were, and this was no exception.  I knew that I had to get something to commemorate the occasion, so I purchased a wooden rosary that was supposedly fashioned from wood culled from the Holy Land itself.  I don't necessarily believe that nor do I believe such wood confers any special powers upon it.  

It's been over a decade since that day and this year I was researching different Catholic spiritual practices and naturally praying the rosary came up.  I rolled my eyes a bit at first.  Praying to Mary has never been a practice that I could get my mind around.  I mean, why pray to her when Jesus is our high priest and we have a direct line?  And using it to reduce my sins?  Sola Fide!  But then I was thinking about Luther and how he was Catholic.  My mind connected that to the idea that he likely used a rosary and then to wondering if he used the ritual but re-purposed it.  

As it turns out, whether he re-purposed it himself or not, there is a Lutheran way to pray the rosary and it has been quite a benefit to me.  Now, I understand that this may offend my Catholic friends out there.  I love you.  I am sorry to offend.  But if it glorifies God and brings me closer to Him then isn't that a good thing?  Also, I understand this may seriously offend my FEC friends out there.  I love you.  I am sorry to offend.  But if it glorifies God and brings me closer to Him then isn't that a good thing?  It's not like I'm re-purposing Yoga here.  

Essentially the Lutheran rosary is prayed like this:  First, you clutch the cross and speak the Apostle's Creed.  The first big bead you come to you pray the "Our Father".  For each little bead you pray, "Lord Jesus Christ, Son of God, have mercy on me a sinner."  The next big bead you pray the "Gloria Patri".  "Glory be to the Father, to the Son, and to the Holy Ghost.  As it was in the beginning, is now, and ever shall be.  Amen."  So, on the big beads you alternate the "Our Father" and the "Gloria Patri" with the "Jesus Prayer" in between.  You all the way around, come back to the cross and pray "The Magnificat".  I know that "Magnificat" is a big scary Catholic sounding word, but it is simply the prayer Mary prayed upon hearing from the angel that she would bear the Christ child.  Deep breath; it's going to be OK.  In fact I fall more and more in love with that prayer.  It declares so much of who God is, His nature and intent, that it blows me away.  But, I digress...surprise...

All of this can be found in this handy online guide HERE.

So, what has been the effect of this "Catholic thingy"?  A much deeper sense of my place in things and God's place in all of history and creation.  

Naturally my Protestant brain recoiled at the repetition of prayers which many of my folk consider "vain" and prohibited.  The point for me is not that I think these prayers earn me any sort of favors with God.  I don't believe that the effort of doing what I should already be doing, praying, is working off my sins (Sola Fide after all).  What I discovered is that as I pray the same prayer again and again it starts to resonate; I start to think and feel the words rather than rattling them off my lips the same way I tell someone my address or cell number.  It's easy to be flippant with prayers and forget what we said like so much verbal mist.  

Repeating a prayer takes you to another level of understanding and meaning.  I can't pray, "...have mercy on me, a sinner" without reflecting on the fact that I desperately need mercy and that I am, in fact, a sinner.  (Some FEC would want to say here that Jesus took on all our sin so we don't need to think, talk about, or reflect on our sinful state and I say, "Woah, there, Scooter.  Might want to dig into that Bible a little more before you minimize a thing that big.")  I can't pray the "Our Father" over and over again without reflecting on how my entire existence and well-being hangs on who He is and what He has done.  How can I pray "and forgive us our sins as we forgive those who sin against us" repeatedly and not have it impressed on me that there is a connection between how much I forgive and how much is forgiven me?  That my daily bread comes not from my effort but from His generosity?  That I must surrender MY will, that it is HIS will that should be done?  And I cannot get over every time I pray the "Gloria Patri" that I am exalting the LORD in unison with the angels in heaven.  Me, this little lowly, sin riddled, thing of mud and dust is singing to Him the same praise no matter what circumstances I'm going through.  In trial and in comfort it is the same words coming out of my mouth straight to Him, "Glory be..."  

How could anyone not benefit from this repetition?  When I look at it in it's basic parts, the rosary is a tool for praying scripture; for praying prayers that are actually in the Bible.  If we get over our Protestant snobbery (and I'm convicting myself in that more than anyone else) I don't think we can say that in and of itself it's a useless or terrible thing.  We learn scripture, memorize by repeating, so that we may "hide it in my heart so that I might not sin against You".  And, if we're being honest, most of us train our children to do that, but we leave off ourselves because we are "too busy".  But, another digression...surprise...

In the end I think it's important to remember that Luther did not want to split off from the Catholic church.  He saw much good there.  He simply wanted to reform certain parts like the selling and buying of plenary indulgences.  Successive generations of Protestants have treated all things Catholic like the plague...liturgy is even shunned by many which boggles my mind.  Speaking out, in unison, the words of scripture?  I even met a man who got offended that the congregation was called upon to speak the words of the Apostle's Creed in unison because "that's a Catholic thing to do".  There are things I disagree with in Catholic practices as well, but throwing the baby out with the bath water is ridiculous.  We can take the time to judge rightly with scripture as our guide.  Many of us are sensible people.  

So, to sum up (Which I have tried to do for a few paragraphs now but...squirrel!), I would encourage people to try praying the Lutheran rosary.  It has been of significant benefit to myself...even if it may send Calvin spinning in his grave. ;)

Pax,

W

Limping Between Two Options

I have completed my journey through 1st Kings as of last night, and it has been quite an enlightening one.  One (such as I) might think that there was little to be gleaned from the stories of selfish and evil idolatrous kings constantly failing to abide by the dictates of the LORD but for a few brief shining moments.  And you'd be (and I was) wrong.  I went into my study begrudgingly and I came out of it...I don't want to say I was "rejoicing" but I certainly had a clearer understanding of the LORD, which is always good.  But it's a cringing sort of joy because it also says a lot about us as His people and what our problem is.

Preacher, author, significant Calvinist John MacArthur's podcast recently had a series on sin where he talked about modern Humanism.  Modern humanism believes in the perfectibility of man, that every age of man is a step up, a continual evolution of we humans.  Every age, they say, we leave behind more of our base instincts and become ever more enlightened.  It's a very likeable and compelling belief...as long as you know absolutely nothing about history.  All recorded history, when you get down to it, flies in the face of humanistic ideals.  For a time we act enlightened but all it takes is one generation to turn us from those ideals and march us back into the paths of darkness.  1 Kings is a book that shows us we are still those same people from 4000 years ago and we still wrestle with the same problems.

1 Kings spans the centuries between the death of King David to the death of King Ahab.  During this time Israel is split into Israel and Judah in a civil war.  Jeroboam was made King of the 10 other tribes (Judah consuming the tribe of Benjamin without so much as a by your leave).  Jeroboam rose to kingship and got the majority portion of the once whole country, but there was a threat to his power.  He was convinced that if people traveled to Jerusalem to worship the LORD in the temple in Judah that Solomon had built they would remember the golden years of the Davidic reign and want to be part of that again.  He was afraid that bit by bit his kingdom would secede because the temple is so pretty.  So, what does he do?  He builds two golden calves, one in the north and one in the south, and says "Here, oh Israel, are the gods who brought you out of Egypt."  Total post-Exodus Aaron jerk move.

This softens the people up to the worship of other gods right alongside the One True God.  Solomon had already "broken the seal", so to speak, on this by giving in to his foreign wives and going so far as to worship Molech and Asherah alongside the LORD though not in His temple.  Jeroboam, however, connected the two worships at the same exact location.  Ahab comes along with his foreign wife and he openly worships the Baals and the LORD in the same place even going so far as to apparently worship the Baals more than the LORD.

Along comes Elijah.

During the Mount Carmel confrontation Elijah addresses the assembled masses of Israel and shouts, "How long will you go limping between two options!"  Either Baal is god or the LORD is God.  Stop worshiping them both.  Those words almost glowed on the page.  They stuck out in a way that I know to be the Holy Spirit convicting me of something.

There are a lot of people who think that America is the "new Israel" and that we are full up on God's blessings and promises.  Now, I don't think that is correct, but I think it's interesting that we as a people are committing many of the same sins.  We'd like to believe that we aren't worshiping other gods but let me ask you this:  What thing(s) in your life are keeping you from what Jesus acknowledged as the greatest commandment, "You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and all your soul and all your might,"?  As harsh at its sounds, whatever it is that holds you back from that is your god.  You see, we are committing the exact same sin as Israel.  We want to worship other gods beside him.

I mean if we give Him slightly more time, if we give Him slightly more consideration then it's OK to worship the same gods that the rest of the world does, right?  Because, it's not like we are worshiping them more so it's not the same has having other gods before Him...right?

Unfortunately that gets a resounding, "No".  All your heart.  Whew...forget the soul and strength, let's sit back and appreciate that.  There is no room for division.  There is no room for sectioning off and this is for God, this is for me, and this is for this other god I don't want to admit controls my desires. All seems to mean all.  And that's where I'll stop because I'm feeling a kindling; like it goes deeper and if I look I'll derail this whole blog post.  So I'll stick that in the Blog Idea file and leave it there today.

Our problem is the same as Israel's that began before the crowning of King Saul and has only gotten worse over time.  We proudly declare, "We are blessed of God!  We are a different and unique people set apart!  So, uh, but we want to be just like everyone else...k?"  Is it any wonder?  We regularly buck against 1 John 2:15 "Do not love this world nor the things it offers you.." We all agree that we are to be "in the world but not of the world," but that rattles off our tongue without us really considering its meaning or its cost.  How do I know?  Because when I rattle it off I don't stop and say, "Oh crap...Woe is me."

We cannot be a unique (holy) people, set apart, and while at the same time trying to be like the rest of the world.  We want it to be OK to do this or that activity, accept this or that sin, alter this or that doctrine to serve our need/want, accept or reject this or that scripture to make Jesus more palatable so our church will be liked more. And, as always, I'm bringing this up because I still haven't wrapped my mind around it.  I'm struggling on a fundamental level with my own inner Israelite.  I want to be special to God, but just like everyone else around me...or at least as much as my seared conscience will allow.

Here's what I do know:  The more we submit to Jesus, the more we do what we know is right via His scriptures, the more we let go of those things that so easily entangle our hearts (not to mention our soul and might), the more we focus on seeking Him, His Kingdom, and His righteousness...the more everything else on earth will matter less and less.  It hurts.  It's painful to our Flesh.  Our knees and necks are so stiff that we struggle to bow, struggle to bend the knee, struggle to do more than lip service.

We haven't changed.

Woe is me.

But...He wants to be known.  That's the joy here.  He's right there.  He is exactly the Papa He says He is; waiting for His prodigal children to even just turn around...and He's running to meet us.

Pax,

W





P.S. For the curious souls who scrolled down this far...Amos is next.



P.P.S. Throughout this blog entry I keep hearing the words of the Law Giver from "The Island of Dr. Moreaux, "If there is no pain...does that mean then that there is no Law?".  How seared are our consciences?

The Hardest Scripture You'll Ever Read

This morning my spiritual mentor and I were chatting.  I was pontificating (like I do...and like you don't have to be a pontiff to do) on a few things and that's when she dropped Matthew 7:22 and further on me.  The separation of the sheep and the goats is what it gets expanded out to elsewhere.

The context of our original conversation isn't important but suffice to say that we were talking about the parts of the Bible that Christians tend to want to ignore.  Like...Sin.  We have to be honest and say that American Christianity overall hates sin and not in the way God hates sin.  What I mean to say is that we hate talking about it, preaching about it, admitting it exists, and especially hate admitting that it even exists within our selves.  But, what is the power of the Gospel at all if we don't fully recognize that we are a fallen creature who has done this to themselves, continues to do it to themselves, and justifies it almost as much as we poo poo it in our own circles.  "You disrespected your spouse?  Oh, honey/dude everybody does that.  It's no big deal.  Heck, I did it four times on my way over here.  Now, if you cheated that would be totally different."  Uh...actually it's not except by our own fallen creature standards.  But if I continue down this route I'll be putting the miter back on my cabeza and get all pontiff on a subject I've already established it's not crucial for the sake of this post to illuminate.  #MaybeTooLate

I'm going to come right out and say what I may have already stated in previous episodes... Matthew 7:22 and following scares me.  It scares me right out of a dead sleep some nights.  Why?  Because it's Jesus talking.  It being Jesus talking mean's it's GOD talking and what GOD is saying we have zero right or ability to worm our way around.  It's foundational which means it's been true since the foundation of the world, in a land before time (not a kid's movie reference, thank you) whether we want to admit it or not.

There are a lot of things that can and have been said about what the sheep and the goat separation, mostly regarding what it "doesn't" mean.  Often focusing on what it "doesn't" mean leads us to not pay attention to what it "does" say (Thank You, Alistair Begg) and that is a road that leads to ruin.

So, as I believe the LORD tells me from time to time, buckle up, buttercup.  This is going to get rough.  You're not going to like it.  I don't even like it.  But most things that heal us are not likeable...potent medicine, resetting bones, the application of tourniquets, cancer surgery...none of these are holiday options.  So, lets take this line by line instead of scanning through.

"Many will say to me in that day, 'Lord, Lord, did we not prophesy in your name and in your name drive out demons and in your name perform many miracles?'" vs 22

Now here's the thing that pushed this blog post.  It's a little thing.  It's that first word.  It's one of the scariest words in the whole of the scriptures because of its context.

Many.

It brings me absolutely not comfort and it shouldn't bring you any comfort either.  Jesus isn't saying that a few, some, a goodly amount, but MANY are going to say to Him on the day of judgement, "but...but...but...we did stuff!"

These are people who clearly recognize Jesus as "Lord" and have dedicated themselves in some way to Him and His service.  Barney down on the beach doesn't just prophesy for Jesus in between whiling his time away praying to Buddha and meditating on the Sutras.  These "many" are for the home team.  These are people swinging and fielding for Jesus, progressing to the point where they are actually prophesying, actually doing miracles, driving out DEMONS in His name, with His authority and His power.  They call Him the Lord of their lives.  Given this resume is it a huge leap to believe that they may have written books, taught Bible studies, headed up churches?  Preached in arenas?

This is heavy.  The very definition of heavy.  These individuals believe they are Christians, believe they are saved, believe they are on His good side.  They expected to be greeted with open arms and told, "Well done, good and faithful servant" or they wouldn't be protesting, they wouldn't be pleading their case before the judge of the living and the dead, the righteous and the wicked.

The message is compacted in the way only Jesus could, "Hey...this could be you.  Look out.  Don't make excuses.  Don't tell me what I'm not saying.  This is the deal.  Guard your heart.  Know your motivations.  Make sure what is meant to be first is first in your life, and don't screw around with matters of your soul."  We see this in His response.

"I never knew you.  Away from me, you evildoers!" v23 b

I.  Never. Knew you.

That's some cold words from someone everyone sees as loving, forgiving, and all embracing.  That condemns them to Hell and that doesn't even come close to the depiction of Jesus as just a "good teacher" that the World and some in the Church want to think of Him as.  There's going to come a time when He is going to tell people that the miracles they performed, the demons they drove out, and the prophesies they spoke count for nothing.

Do you know Him?  Seriously, there is a vast difference between knowing about someone and knowing someone.  I could read about Winston Churchill, I can read his own words, but I could never say that I know him only that I know about him.  I can feel like I know him, to be sure, but that's not the same as knowing him.  Interestingly the Greek word for "know" here (ginosko) is the same Greek word used for the Jewish idiom for "knowing" someone...sex.  The suggestion is a deep deep intimacy with Him.  "I never knew you" isn't him saying they didn't show up to church or pray.  It's not a casual acquaintance "know" and in my life that's the level I used to be at with Him.

My encouragement, meager as it may be, is this: Don't take this lightly.  And by "this" I mean knowing Him.  We can do all the great and mighty works of God and still not know Him.  I venture to say that we can even feed the poor, clothe the naked, and visit the sick and it still wouldn't count if we did not deeply intimately know Him.

Knowing you and being known by you is very high on God's list of things He wants.  There are many out there who say that you can't experience God and my response is now and always, "Then WHY does He tell us to?"  "Taste and See", "If I answer the door I will come in to him and sup with him", and I could go on and on.  Knowing about Him isn't enough, and He says it right there in Matthew.  Stop being consumed by the distractions of the world though they call to you, though you are addicted to them, though they make you so blissfully happy (and you already know which ones I'm talking about) because they are distracting you from REAL LIFE.  And by REAL LIFE I mean HIM, because He says "I am the way, the truth and the life".  He's not just A way or A truth.  We say that all the time leaving off there and betraying our hearts.  He is not A life.  He is THE life.  He is by His very own definition REAL LIFE.  And that's heavy because I didn't realize that until right now so I'm going to pause, close the Facebook window in the background and let that sink in.
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Wow.  I've still not fully absorbed that.

It's a massive alteration which takes time. Though I'm sure my beloved Pastor is thinking, "BOOM!  Yes!  Got one!" because he's been trying to teach that to his congregation for YEARS and I thought I had it before, but now my vision cracked just a little bit and all that light is pouring through causing a kind of spiritual pupil constriction making me shield my spirit peepers and utter a full on Neo from the Matrix, "Woah..."  It'll be a while before I can utter, "I know Kung Fu..." on this one to which I'm sure my mentor will pull the Morpheus response of a skeptical appraising look followed by the line, "Show me."

The point, in so much as I can full articulate one, is to stop your distractions.  Focus on what connects to Him.  He says that this very act has eternal consequences.  We nod our heads along when someone quotes "...and there is no life apart from Him..." then get in our SUVs, turn on the game of the week, while playing games on our phones sitting next to our loved ones who are doing the same, and we say "Where's God?"  Clear the field.  Seek Him and you will find Him.  How do I know?  No other reason than because He says so and He is not a man that He should lie.

Pax,

Will

Lurking in the Silences

So, I've been places, I've done things, and now I'm back.  Hopefully that's good enough because I'm not a fan of making excuses and I really have gone and done so much, changed so very much, in ways that only a Living God could do in me.  It will all come out in drips and drabs through the things I'll be relating now and in the future, I'm sure.

The beginning of all the changes came when the LORD brought me to a therapist a few months ago.  I was stuck.  I was in a depressive spiral that nothing could seem to pull me through or out of.  I prayed and received my answer of 2 people, one who knows me intimately and one who didn't know me from Adam, saying "Yeah, you might want to talk to a professional about that."  So, recognizing it for what it was, I submitted myself to His greater wisdom.

I've never really had a problem admitting when I need help.  I've always been quick to read that marriage book, talk to the pastor or get a relationship counselor.  It seems ridiculous to me to waste time not reaching out when help is available.  My only concern on this one was money.  Therapists, and good ones, are fairly notoriously expensive.  Fortunately my insurance covered it (uh...actually Thanks, Obama...) and I was able to find an excellent Christian therapist.  It took 8 or so visits for us to come to the real crux of the issue and it felt like a tree of bitterness had been pulled out by the roots... and then everything changed.  It was, no joke, like the LORD leaned down and whispered in my ear, "Buckle up, buttercup," because over the next few weeks He went to work on me.  I seriously had a friend who has some prophetic gifting message me and say, "Uh, I don't know why, but the Lord says to tell you to relax, let go, and whatever is going to happen is going to be good, no matter how scary it might look."  They had no idea my situation at all and the timing was spot on.

I have grown in Christ more in the past two weeks than probably the past three years and, as things of the Spirit often are, it is very hard to describe.  So much has changed.  How I react to stressors, how I relate to my kids, my wife, the LORD Himself, and most surprising of all is how I feel about my writing has all changed.

There was a hole, as there usually is when a tree is uprooted, that I could sense in the Spirit.  I knew that I needed to fill it in or another tree would take its place or even the same one as before.  So, I asked around to the important people in my life who were also Christ followers what it was was that they do for their devotions.  I needed to fill that hole left behind with a spiritual practice.  I was already reading my Bible and praying but something else needed to be added.

My spiritual mentor told me about how she wakes early every day and listens for God.  We spend so much of our Christian walk talking to/at God and hardly any time listening intently.  So, I woke up at 5 am, told the LORD what I was up to and waited.  What happened was almost indescribable.  I guess the easiest way to say it is that I have a renewed sense of His constant presence.  Most of that first session and some of those after (I have in fact been up at 5 every morning for this ever since) I'm pretty sure was the Holy Spirit rifling through my sub conscious going, "Don't need this...don't need this...this shouldn't have ever been here in the first place...I know I didn't put this here so out it goes..." And life has been so different.  Peace.  Joy.  I was so the opposite of depressed that I put my therapy sessions on hold indefinitely.  I'm react so much more readily with care and compassion.  And the best part is I know that it's not because of me.  When I studied Zen, Paganism, Kabbalah back in my wild youth it was all about my performance which led to pride and ego inflation and looking down at those "less spiritual" than I.  This?  He is doing the heavy lifting, making the changes, and causing the things within me to become more and more like His Son, Jesus Christ.  I couldn't force this change if I tried.

Now, that is all setup for what I wanted to say in this entry: He is in the silences waiting for you.

We spend so much time watching movies, playing video games, filling our lives with entertainment, noise and distractions; so much so that we almost have to yell at each other just to be heard.  And yes, from time to time God will "yell" at us.  We get in the car turn on the radio, we have our eyes pulled away from the road and each other by notifications on our phone and we want to send the kids to this or that and then we've got to do drive thru on the way home and we are so wound up or are done with the kids that we put them in front of the TV while they eat and then we can't wait to get them to bed so we can have time with our spouse to watch that one show which we then binge too late into the night and we sleep 6 hours and then hit the snooze button too many times and then have to scramble to get the kids to school and ourselves to work, and then when we get done with work we get in the car, we turn on the radio...and then wonder "Why don't I hear anything from God in my life?? Why is He silent?!?!"  (and just so we're clear...this was me, not me judging someone else)

What I have found is that the Lord is a lion lurking in the silences.  He is a still small voice waiting to pounce and in modern society we give Him less and less opportunity.  We have to make the opportunity.  You have to carve out time with a machete if you want to hear Him, hack away at the idols in our own lives, and one of the hardest idols to slash is our self.

I didn't want to do this.  I didn't want to wake up faithfully every day at 5 and if He hadn't actually led me there during a period of transition I don't know that I would have done it at all.  I would be on the same vicious cycle of distracting myself and wondering if He was even listening at all when it was me who didn't care to listen.

The World will make the most of any opportunity to push back, to drop a crisis in our lap, to distract us with a phone notification, pull us into being emotionally explosive about some political thing done by people who don't even know or care that you actually exist but you care so greatly about though you have no effect, because if you have even 10 minutes of silence, 10 minutes to breathe, the Lord will pounce.  I do not doubt that this is the reality one bit.  (again...because this was me)

When we look at the Biblical vision of Sabbath it is with the intention of God's people having rest, quiet, peace.  That is where I truly believe God really operates on people.

When do most major changes in people's lives happen?  When a heart attack or something major malady puts them in the hospital and all they have is time to look, breathe, think, and reassess...or watch daytime TV which ultimately gets people to turn that off as well.  He is there, lurking in the rest and in the silence, waiting for the opportunity to leap/pounce into the lives of His people.

The Bible is full of references to testing the Lord's promises, invitations to "taste and see", and that is one of the most life changing things you'll ever do...because when God basically says, "C'mon...I dare you..." (and believe me, that's what "taste and see" is...a Holy dare) He's always going to do exactly what He said He would do.

Pax,

W

My Struggle (On Political Rebellion)

Today I posted something on Facebook to help me deal with the part of scripture that I struggle with the most, Romans 13:1-7.

There are a LOT of scriptures that are difficult for me; things that call me towards Christ likeness yet cause my flesh to throw temper tantrums.  There are things that I recognize as true about the world that I don't want to be true.  And then there's Romans 13:1-7.

Deep in my heart there is a wall I've drawn around my principles and values.  Many of them are immovable as a result.  I will not budge on X, Y, or Z because I know these things to be true and if I violate them then I violate my soul.  There's a traitor in their midst.  I recognize the sovereignty of God and His scripture, his very words to us.  And so I have troubles.

Here it is:
Romans 13:1-5

Let everyone be subject to the governing authorities, for there is no authority except that which God has established.  The authorities that exist have been established by God.  Consequently, whoever rebels against the authority is rebelling against what God has instituted, and those who do so will bring judgement on themselves.  For rulers hold no terror for those who do right, but for those who do wrong.  Do you want to be free from the fear of the one in authority?  Then do what is right and you will be commended.  For the one in authority is God's servant for your good.  But if you do wrong, be afraid, for rulers do not bear the sword for no reason.  They are God's servants, agents of wrath to bring punishment on the wrongdoer.  Therefore it is necessary to submit to the authorities, not only because of punishment but also as a matter of conscience.

(6 and 7 are on taxes and what is owed people)

What does this mean to those under a cruel and oppressive government?  At what point are we, as Christians, allowed or permitted to rebel...violently?

The more I read of the Bible, the more I think that the Amish and Quakers may have the right of it.  In the face of abuse, intolerance, oppression, war, you do the good works that God has told you to do.  You do not respond with rebellion.  You give honor, respect, and anything asked of you even to a tyrant.

It grates against me.  I don't like it.  Even now as I write this there is rebellion in my heart to the concept.  It hurts, but I know that feeling for what it is.  It's a dark root that I have yet to pull out.

Look, I'm not telling you what to believe.  I don't necessarily have any answers.  I just coined on Facebook a saying I'm sure to repeat til my dying day.  "I don't have answers unless it's to questions regarding the random trivia in my head.  Other than that I have questions.  Lots of questions."  I would love for someone to come along and tell me why I'm wrong on this.

As I look at the scriptures, however, I don't see a single place (yet) that endorses rebellion against any form of government, tyrannical or not.  I think of the Old Testament where the Children of Israel are in bondage to Egypt.  I'm sure there were bloody uprisings every now and then because...well...they were humans.  Was a bloody uprising what freed them?  No.  It was in God's timing and God's way.  We've got the Medes, the Persians, the Babylonians who all come and dominate Israel.  God even has a prophet who tells the people, "Just accept it!  This is God's judgement!".  Were their bloody uprisings?  I'm sure there were..because...humans.  But, again, was that that what freed them?  Never.  It was in God's timing and God's way.

My mind naturally turns next to the Revolutionary War and, given Romans 13:1-7, were the revolutionaries right in overthrowing the British empire?  By God's standard, available for all to read, was it right?  The British King was in authority and they rebelled against that authority.  They rebelled against the authority God had established, because God establishes all authorities.  And I recognize that I'm taking the tack of many Loyalists at the time who felt that it was exactly that.  I value our American heritage and history more than most people realize.  Franklin, Jefferson, Washington, Henry, Hancock, Adams, so many of them are basically protestant versions of saints in my head, but I have to question this.  Are we better off?  Sure.  However, were we right biblically?

Jesus never preached rebellion and the Romans were significant oppressors at the time.  Within 20 years after his death, if I remember correctly, they destroyed the temple.  Constantly we are told to just do good, help the weak, the poor, the stranger, and the widow but never called to take up the sword.  Turn the other cheek, walk the extra mile, give a man who demands your cloak your outer garment as well, do as the Samaritan; all of these are references to doing good to an oppressor.  We are called to pray for and bless those in authority.  The Bible instructs us, if we are slaves, to not try to escape but work all the more diligently for our master as we would the Lord himself.

I'm conflicted and need opinions on this, especially those which are grounded in scripture.  It's easy to get off on "Well, surely God doesn't expect us to submit to THIS" and not deal with the call to submission itself.

I'm teachable.  I'm willing to hear even that which disagrees with me, in fact I welcome it.

Pax,

W

Thomas, known as The Doubter...

Over the Easter holiday one of my greatest spiritual pet peeves came to the forefront.  Amidst all of the "He has risen"s and reflexive "He is risen indeed!"s, while Christians spoke of the joys of the resurrected life, and how wondrous the actual event must be, there was, as always, the maligning of a particular disciple of Jesus.

Thomas.  Thomas the doubter.  Doubting Thomas.

I mean, look at him over there, sulking in a corner, testy whenever anyone brings up the rumored resurrection.  Silly Thomas.  Puny in Faith Thomas.  What kind of disciple is he going to grow up to be if he can't even believe in the resurrection after the crucifixion.  If he'd just get that big brain out of the way he could experience so much joy.  Why was he one of the Twelve again if he wasn't going to believe in miraculous things?  I may not be a spiritual giant, but I'm sure no Doubting Thomas, amiright?

If you've spent some time with me over the course of this blog then you know that I have more than a little respect for Thomas the Apostle.  Though I am of a protestant bent, I claim him as my "patron saint".  Traditionally he is the patron saint of architects and an eastern country that we'll name in a bit.  He died on December 21st, in the year 72.

In my original version of this post I went down a list of the three times Thomas speaks up in the Gospel of John.  It was actually quite an academic approach...which is probably why I scrapped it.  I'm not much for the academic form and process.  I'm a story teller.  So lets skip the bits that set up my point that Thomas was the one guy in the room who was going to say what everyone was thinking.  You can find them.  Let's skip the bits that establish my point that of all the apostles he was probably the most intellectually honest.  You can do your own homework.  You're smart enough.  Let's skip that and get to the bit of the story that actually earned Thomas the title and made it an insult or at least a disparaging term among both Christians and non-Christians alike.

The week had been a big one so far.  From the triumphal entry, to the Last Supper, to the garden arrest, to the crucifixion, it was a lot to take in and process.  Imagine walking into Jerusalem, the Holy City where God met with the High Priest in the Holy Temple, with the crowds cheering for your teacher.  You couldn't help but get excited about what might be coming next.  The largest city in all of Israel, the capital, and you suddenly realize that your teacher and your fellow disciples apparently have the will of the people on your side.  Everyone is shouting for joy to God...well, everyone but the pharisees and saducees but you're not sure the last time you actually saw any of them do anything but scowl and murmur together trying to cook up some sort of trick question for your teacher.  The atmosphere would have been electric.  Anything could happen, even the overthrow of the pagan Roman occupiers.

Jesus routs the money changers and merchants from out of the temple.  Now the Roman's aren't the only ones who are going to get it in the new kingdom, so to is the corrupted Jewish system.  A full cleansing of Israel seems eminent.

The upper room is filled with candle light, Your teacher disrobes, grabs a towel and a basin, and begins to watch each of his student's feet.  It is a crazy juxtaposition, a upside down sense of duty and honor, so much so that it is not surprising that Peter initially refuses to allow it.  The master is above the servant, the teacher worthy of more honor above the student.  To Jesus it is the foundation of His Kingdom, He says, just how things are and work.  Later Jesus describes the inevitability of His death.  He has been on about his death for ages, but many of his students disregard it as crazy talk.  How can a King establish a Kingdom by dying?  It must be somewhere later down the road, or perhaps it's a symbolic death.  Kingdoms are upturned, and thrones usurped by a King's death, not established.

Then Judas is called out as a betrayer.  The teacher doesn't even act angry about the fact of his betrayal.  He even bids the man to go and do it rather than stop him.  But the meal continues.

In the garden is where the dream begins to die.  Heavily armed guards arrest the teacher, they take Him to where He is beaten and fraudulently accused of things He never did.  Fist shaped bruises blossom on His cheek, a white pair to teeth lay on the floor, their roots crimson against the dirt.  From there the teacher is taken from official to official, beaten by one, mocked by another, and that's when you begin to feel a creeping sense of dread.  First it was shock, now it has turned sour in your stomach.  The air is thick with it.  Days ago your ears shuddered at the sound of praises, more thunderously the people cry their curses.  The people are shouting for the innocent teacher's life to be sacrificed on the cross in the place of a murderous man.  It was a shock to hear that Peter denied the teacher, but now denial seems to be an option as your survival instinct kicks in, as the crowd turn uglier than you've ever seen it.  He is condemned to death.  In the minds of the people it is for insurrection and/or blasphemy.  It never fares much better for known associates of the condemned when it comes to insurrection, and you would be marked for life for blasphemy.

At the foot of the cross you hear the people mock Him.  They question why, if He is so holy and the Son of God, He doesn't just pull Himself off the cross.  You can't help but wonder that as well as you mourn what you are seeing.  You put all your proverbial chips on this number.  You saw miracles, healings, exorcisms, and now this?  Why wouldn't He be able to.  He dies, gives up His last breath.  The sky goes dark, a great earthquake hits and you thank God for the confusion as fear gives way to panic and you slip away.

They mourned for days, all together in one place.  Thomas wasn't immune to it.  The dream was over, whatever dream each disciple had in their hearts.  They were afraid, confused, and each of them questioning God I have no doubt.  They were being hunted by the Romans already, the rumor being that they wanted to make sure the Disciples didn't try and rob the grave.  The land was in a full blown panic over the teacher's death and the following signs.  The temple veil was torn as if by an invisible hand.  People walked out of their graves full of life again.  What did it all mean?  The temple veil was particularly troubling.  Rumors of all kinds flew.  Every hour someone brought them news.  In the morning was when the women returned to them telling them the tomb was empty, and there was an angel.  John and Peter took off like a shot to the tomb while the rest remained fretting and wondering what it could mean.  Was it the Romans?  The Temple Guard under the orders of the High Priest to cast shame and suspicion upon them?  John and Peter return with the same story.  The stone was rolled away, the cloths folded neatly.  One by one they begin to assume.  But not Thomas.

He wants it to be true, but no.  He wishes it could be true.  Jesus had raised the dead before, but...

"Thomas, come on, He said it Himself.  In three days He would rebuild,"

"I know what He said.  I was there.  He said the Temple."

"Then you know it's possible.  The body is a temple."

"There are a hundred things that are possible.  We don't know what happened.  The women didn't see, Peter and John didn't see what happened.  We don't know."

"Why won't you entertain it at least?"

"I do!  In my heart I want it to be true, but I can't say that it is true when I don't know it to be true."

"Come on, Thomas.  Just believe.  You're just sore because we saw Him and you didn't."

"No!" he chokes on his tears.  "I won't.  I won't believe until I touch the holes in his hands and put my hand in his side."

What picture do you have when you read the scene as Jesus appears in the room and invites Thomas to touch, and put his hand in the Lord's side?  Does Thomas just walk up dispassionately, objectively, and examines the wounds?  Does he ashamedly just ascent intellectually with a nod toward Jesus?

In my mind he is filled with holy fear as every possibility and impossibility coalesces into one reality for him.  His hear leaps into his throat as Jesus stands open armed welcoming his examination.  Jesus nods for him to go ahead and shaking Thomas makes the the rounds from hand, to hand, to His side.

A remarkable thing happens to Thomas.  Peter declared that Jesus was the Son of God.  Thomas, however, dropped to his knees and said, "My Lord and my God".  That's huge.  A Jewish man declared that Jesus was Lord and God...one and the same...the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob there before him.  It is easy to assume that he was "late to the party" with this realization, but there is no indication that anyone else had made that connection.

Further remarkable things happen to Thomas.  This "lesser disciple", as some treat him, went farther with the Gospel than any other.  This doubter took the largest leap of faith, leaving behind culture, language, civilization, and every point of familiarity to follow the spirit's leading to India where he established at least 15 churches and what would become "the Oriental Orthodox Church".  I can only imagine the shock it must have been for the English missionaries to come and find people who already knew the Gospel as a result of already being "Saint Thomas Christians".

In my mind Thomas was a man who was extremely honest about himself and what he believed.  I think his "doubt" was very much that of a grieving man who wanted to believe, but whose heart was broken.  He wasn't going to admit what he had not seen and experienced.  Perhaps it is a bit of pride in me, but I believe he and I would get along very well, kindred spirits cut from the same cloth, constantly assessing, reassessing, and questioning what we think we know in order to be sure we are grounded in the Truth.  There is no shame in that, not character flaw to be mocked.  Perhaps others are more blessed because they believe immediately.  Peter may have been the "Rock", but given how far Thomas went and what he achieved I'd say he was certainly "sure footed".

Pax,

P

End of Lent Reflections

Why do Lent?  Why fast from anything for any amount of time?  What does it mean?  What's the point?

In modern times fasting is fairly unique and extremely so as a form of worship.  Even after completing these 40 days of Lent I find myself still somewhat confused about what fasting is and why we do it. What I do know for sure is that in this modern world where the distance between desire and satisfaction is minuscule, doing without what you want for an extended period of time is almost a revolutionary act.

I haven't had any need to justify fasting to anyone by virtue of my stay-at-home-husband status.  Basically the only explanation needed was to my candy and dessert obsessed daughter.  I can imagine how it would be in public however.  People notice things and would certainly notice my rejecting sodas and sweets.  I have often wondered how I would react if questioned.  Mostly I see myself shrugging and declaring it a religious thing with some measure of resignation.  I wouldn't have a real answer.  Experience has taught me that in giving up what I desire, what has been an addiction, something that on some level has controlled me, brings me not closer to God so much as it gives me more of my self to turn over to his control.

One of the things I've discovered as a result of this process that happens to be entirely non spiritual is that sugar had been affecting my health.  Well, duh, the health conscious among my audience are probably saying.  I can practically hear the forehead slaps and semi patronizing good for you even now as this is in the first draft.

I have lived with pretty much daily acid reflux/indigestion, or whatever people call it, for years.  It was only through Lent that I realized it wasn't caused by coffee or spicy food but, instead, sugar.  At this realization I did a very small experimentation.  Processed sugar was right out.  Even in very small amounts it caused the acid.  Sugar in the raw at the same amount caused the same reaction but it took much, much longer to hit.  The only safe thing was honey.  Zero reaction.  This will bring quite the change for my life.  I'm fairly certain PepsiCo stock will fall, so if you are invested...brace yourself.

It is easy to look at things as having an inescapable hold on us.  I spent years thinking that giving up Facebook was too big; bigger even than when I quit smoking cold turkey.  So many people have told me how they just can't do it, that somehow my success is a super human anomaly.  It really isn't.  It feels that way, to be sure, but it doesn't take a super human will.

I've learned a few principles that are so fundamental to human existence that I feel embarrassingly late to the party.  Mainly I've learned that nothing has real power over me that I haven't willingly given that power to.  I can make decades of excuses about how helpless I am, and without Jesus I'm sure it is true.  I give away power with my choices.  This has rung true so completely in me that I'm actually looking forward to next year when I'm likely to give up digital media of all sorts for 40 days.

I know, right?  Nothing.  No Netflix.  No Playstation.  No movies.  No T.V. Shows.  Just me and a lot of time spent doing analog things.  Giving up Facebook earlier in the year has created so much peace within me...I'm kind of wondering how much more of that there is to be had.  How much do these distractions affect us?  Would I be better off that way?  It is only because of this Lent that it could be possible for me to even consider attempting.

Pax,

W

On Lent: Ungrateful on Good Friday

One of the amazing things about the Bible is that if you read it long enough, eventually you will see yourself.  It's not like the "Iliad" or the "Odyssey" where you will see great heroes you want to be like, a goal to aspire to.  No.  In the Bible you'll see yourself warts and all.

Maybe you recognize yourself in Peter's bull in a china closet sort of brash loyalty and good intentions.  Perhaps it is in Thomas' doubt.  For some, and I feel echoes of this in my soul as well, it is in the father's desperate cry for his child to be healed where he declares, "I believe!" and then follows it up with equally desperate honest with, "Help my unbelief".  I wish that I saw myself in Lazarus' sister Mary who happily sits at the master's feet.

Unfortunately I most clearly find myself in the parable of the ungrateful servant.  I reference it regularly in both real life and blog posts.  Man owes the king say $500,000.  He begs and pleads for forgiveness.  King wipes the debt clean.  Man sees a fellow servant who owes him $10 and he drags him to court to get him thrown into prison.  King takes the first man, condemns him for not being grateful and showing the same kind of forgiveness the king showed him to someone who owed way less, weeping, gnashing of teeth, etc ensues.  As a result, in my personal Lent reflections I've been focused on gratitude.

I'm not one of those people who was saved from a life of prostitution, drugs, etc.  I am an average joe who grew up in the church, fell away for a bit but nothing major, and came back.  I'm kind of a super minor prodigal son.  So many people are impressed by those testimonies of being saved from massive darkness, they praise God and rejoice that someone was once saved from so much.  I remember many times, hearing those testimonies and actually feeling somehow inadequate.  Of course, that comes from a basic misunderstanding of the situation.  If you asked those individuals with the Super Testimonies (tm) they'd be the first to tell you that they wish they had my testimony rather than walk through a personal hell.

I've mentioned it before, but the most massive revelation of the past year in my spiritual walk has been from Dr. Charles Stanley, who once said that God didn't send Jesus to save us from what we've done, the sins we've committed.  God sent Jesus to save us from what we are.

We'd like to believe that we need Jesus because we at one or many points in time committed this sin, that sin, and violated the laws of God.  Those sins are just the symptom, and a good physician never just treats the symptom.  At our core, because of Adam and Eve's transgression in the Garden, we were fundamentally altered.  That act made it so that we weren't just capable of sin, but we would inevitably sin.  It is in our heart, our nature, our spiritual DNA.  It doesn't excuse us, of course, but that is why we need God, need Jesus, need His Holy Spirit, because we are incapable.  To say that the sins we commit are the problem is like saying that someone riddled with cancer's problem is the dramatic weight loss, hair falling out, blood in the stool, and lack of appetite.  No.  It's the faulty cells inside the body that are replicating the DNA incorrectly.  If it was just our actions then we wouldn't need to be conformed to the image/mind of Jesus.  We'd just need to be conformed to His actions, and the Pharisees, as much crap as we tend to talk about them, were already doing that.  Their externals were white, the internals full of rotting flesh and dead men's bones.

That is where I find myself struggling most of the time.  It isn't my externals that need altering, although there are things that are beneficial to do and not do.  The issue is now and forever my internals...and that, without Jesus, is impossible to alter.  I say I struggle, but really it has lately been more surrender.  "I believe; Help my unbelief" resounds through my soul at the same frequent desperation as Brother Lawrence's "If You do not change me, how can I do otherwise?".

It is a hard fact that you can do nothing about it.  It is a hard fact that you can do nothing about it.

I was watching my kids the other day.  My daughter has been having a rough time of it lately.  She's at some sort of snotty "tween" stage that just grates on my nerves.  It's too early for her to be acting like I'm as much of an idiot as she thinks I am.  If any other adult tells her something it is like some enlightened revelation, but if I tell her she scoffs and does it her own way.  She isn't showing much respect for me or her mother and I refuse to let her treat us like that.

The thing that keeps grinding my gears is how ungrateful she is.  I mean, honestly, never mind that we gave her life, but there is the food, lodging, clothing, tv, computer, education, vacations, etc.  We give her so much and she snots me off?  Treats me like I'm an idiot when I show her how to do something?  Tell her how best to go about her life?  I mean, I'm only 38 and she's 9.  How much more life experience do I have?  Psht...

And that's when I heard some sort of deep, bass level, spiritual bell ding in my soul.  Jesus is so faithful at ringing that thing.  My perspective shifted.  I heard Him clear His throat and I saw my own inconsistency, my own lack of gratitude, my own insistence that God is an idiot (though I never phrase it that way when I'm about to do the thing), my own snottiness.

I felt guilty.  I felt condemnation.  I felt gutted by my own behavior.

Normally I would have wallowed in all of that, slipped into a spiritual depression (it's comfy there...), and been all "Woe is me", for a few days.  I stepped a toe in there and then felt something different than my usual penitent slump.  It was so weird.  I felt loved.  It was like He came up behind me, turned my face away from my actions and just hugged me, loved on me for a while.  I didn't have to feel horrible.  And the reason why is hard to explain, but I'll try through the medium of my parent child relationship.

My daughter we always be ungrateful on some level, because she can't know all that we have done for her.  She can't know how Papa has struggled to teach her, how much Papa has prayed, and cried, and changed himself to be better for her.  She can't know how much time and Papa has spent just doing the laundry, dishes, bathroom scrubbing, floor scrubbing, cooking, etc all for her.  There is no way for her to comprehend how much her Mama works and struggles to provide good things for her.  Even when she has her own children and does the same for them she will only have an inkling of an idea because we'll be 20 years ahead.

We are ungrateful and always be ungrateful on some level because of the magnitude of what Jesus has done for us, for what the Father has done for us, and what the Holy Spirit has done for us.  He has spent many thousands of years from the foundation of the Earth and untold years before the foundation of the Earth doing for us.  When I think of that I get the same feeling I imagine I would have scuba diving and a blue whale swam up next to me.  Fear.  Not a fear for my life, but that natural fear and respect for something so massive we barely register on it's scale.  It is just so huge.  We can't comprehend it now and I doubt we'll be able to comprehend it on the other side, not fully.

He deserves so much more gratitude, so much more praise, so much more of my life because of what He has done.  And every time I meditate on that I feel something like Him replying with a smile, "I know.  Hey, let's go for a walk."

From the Garden, to Enoch, to us...His desire hasn't much changed, has it?

Pax,

W

On Lent: Palm Sunday

It has been an interesting past few days here, going though Lent.  In many ways I feel like this is the week I've been waiting for, and not because Resurrection Sunday comes and I'll be able to have sugar.  On the contrary, in these final few days the personal spiritual revelations have started coming that I expected.  There is a certain maturity that comes in giving up something you hold dear, something that controls you or at least moves you.  One or two weeks without that thing is a fad or a lark.  The third week tests your resolve.  The fourth week tests your reasons, and if you get beyond that there really is quite something to be learned about yourself.

I'm starting to see the Sunday School haze fall away from my eyes more rapidly.  Like many I grew up attending Sunday School in the morning and then Children's Church after worship service.  Now, I respect the people who do such things and make those programs available.  I don't mean to criticize them, but things get lost in the translation.  Whether it was my wholly owned ignorance that is being exposed to the light of day or their desire to make good "behavioral lessons" out of common Bible tales I'm not certain.

For instance, it just occurred to me today that Luke, the doctor and gospel writer, wasn't one of the 12 Disciples.  For that matter fellow gospel writer Mark wasn't either.  Luke was likely Greek, never met the Lord in person and began as a pupil of Paul.  Odds are he was a gentile.  Mark, it is believed, was one of the outer disciples and tradition holds that he was one who departed when Jesus declared that in order to follow Him one had to drink of his blood and eat of his flesh.  Superficial, some of the most learned among my readership might suppose, but it alters how one sees the things in front of him.  The words and impact of their gospels are still the same, there's just a little something different in the perception.

This last week I was reading in Luke where Jesus tells about the wise man who built his house upon the rock an the foolish man who built his house upon the sand (Luke 6:48).  And the rains came down, and the floods came up, (you may be singing along now...) and the foolish man's house went SPLAT!  When we were little we knew that song was about Christians and Non-Christians.  Oh, look at those foolish non-Christians building there lives on hedonism, humanism, evolution.  It's only on the rock of Jesus and his principals, doing things his way, that we can expect to live stable, secure lives.

I grew up, went to college, started a family and for a long time it was very rare that I ever felt stable and secure.  Heck, I didn't even know anyone who said they felt stable and secure.  So, the old wise man foolish man parable must be wrong, right?  I'm a Christian, this shouldn't be how I feel, right?  I said the prayer, I did the getting dunked in water thing.  So how can I feel this way?

There are whole sections in Christian book stores about how to feel good about yourself, how you're a winner and an overcomer, how you should just change your perception and you'll have self esteem just because you did the prayer and the water dunky thingy.  I've always had a natural aversion to those sort of books because they feel...sickeningly sweet, like drinking soda syrup straight.  (What?  Oh, like I'm the only one who has ever...OK...maybe I am...snorted pixie sticks?  Anyone?)  I can't take the perma-grins of the authors on the cover, their wide mouthed, way too reassuring smiles highlighted with unnaturally white teeth. (If you hear laughter as you read that part it's probably my sister.  She knows exactly who I'm talking about there).  The whole thing of "think positive, that's all you need" has always seemed counter-intuitive to the gospel...and now I know why...well...OK...I have a better understanding.

The wise man and foolish man of Luke's 6th chapter has nothing to do with non-believers, but rather everything to do with believers.  Look at verse 46 : "Why do you call Me, 'Lord, Lord," and do not do what I say?..." and then He launches in to the parable.  It is those who call Him, "Lord, Lord,", those who proclaim Him as their teacher or, more appropriately, Master (according to the Greek) and yet don't do what He says to do.  That would be like me learning under chef's in culinary school, telling everyone how proud I am to be learning under them, attending daily classes, then decide I know better than them how to make a souffle, and just start guessing at what goes in it.  What's going to happen?  It might be barely edible but it's not a souffle.  Why call him Lord, Lord if you aren't going to do things as he says to do them?  Why waste the time if you aren't going to follow him and make up your own life recipe?

Now, I can't and won't judge you, but I'm more than happy to judge myself.

Until about a year ago I was doing the same thing.  Well, that's not completely accurate.  It is probably best to say that I have spent the past six years going through a process that has gradually brought me more in line with Jesus as my true Master that became very obvious within the past year or so.

In the past year I've gone on a self induced/guided journey through the New Testament chapter by chapter wondering what the "commandments" of the New Testament are.  I know the word "commandments" freaks us people of God's Grace out a bit, but they are actually there.  "Do this.  Don't do this," can be found in every book of the New Testament and yet we ignore them.  Let's just take this classic, "Let there be no divisions among you," from twice in 1 Corinthians.  In our modern times many people find identity in their divisions with other denominations.  "But, come on, that's Paul.  That's his opinion."  Jesus' words are even harder, "Be anxious for nothing,".  That's it.  Don't do it.  What is the antidote?  Prayer.  Making your requests known to God.

So, long story short, I started to do the things Jesus and the Apostles said to do.  Then, and only then, was when I started to feel peace and stability.  When I reject divisions among the Body of Christ then it follows that chaos within my life at church will be minimized.  When I squash pride and foolish talk (yes, the last one is an eternal work in progress) then my relationships are protected and enhanced.  When I refuse to be anxious about something and instead give it to the Lord and leave it there, naturally I will have peace.  When I choose to study His word and be in regular contact through prayer then, surprise, I feel not only stability but His presence.

This morning I got all dressed up to attend my church's Palm Sunday service.  It was a little bittersweet in a few ways.  I wore one of my Hawaiian style button up shirts to the service because that's about as dressy as I get.  The church doesn't quite feel like home yet.  I was reminded of this because I know if I was at my home church more than one, at the VERY least the pastor, would have commented on how appropriate my shirt was because..ya know...Palm Sunday, palm trees on the shirt.

For the entire season of Lent the question that the Reverend has been asking as our theme is: "What does it mean to be a faithful follower of Jesus Christ?"  I find that I'm not alone in my preference of over-intellectualizing that question.  When it comes down to it, it is not calling Him "Lord, Lord".  It is all to do with doing the things He tells us to do...even if it means loving your enemies...which...I'm glad I get along with a lot of people because that one's rough.

Pax,

W

On Lent: An Update

The sugar addiction fog has cleared a bit, praise Jesus.  Literally.  I have.  

It is amazing how we cling to things.  I have marveled at my own inability to let go.  When Paul talks about beating his flesh into submission in 1 Corinthians 9, he ain't joking.  It is insanely difficult to just give up sugar let alone the pet sins in our lives.  

I find that Lent can be a master class in letting these things go.  You get to the end of yourself and have to rely on God because there is no more of yourself to rely on.  If it was up to me I'd have that maple bar.  I'd dig deep into that creme brulee or indulge in my greatest temptation...Pepsi.  

I had a really big moment in my Lenten journey.  It might sound like I am making an excuse or being a bit of a hypocrite, and I considered that.  But something changed in me.  I was at my favorite coffee shop (seriously, the best latte I've ever had and it was without a flavored syrup) and the owner recognized me from a Google review I put online.  Without a word he came over and put a personal sized (not full slice) blackberry cheesecake in front of me.  I said, "Wow" and thanked him.  It sat there for a few minutes while I kept writing my new novel.  I looked from my laptop screen to the cheesecake and I realized that there was a complete absence of compulsion.  My mouth didn't salivate.  I didn't feel any longing or like if I pushed it away, said no thank you or something, that I would have missed out.  It was just a thing.  Just a piece of food.  And if you've seen me, I'm 291 pounds (down from 298 on Ash Wednesday, woohoo).  I'm a man who has eaten his fair share of cheese cake, cheese, and cake.  Not feeling anything was kind of a big deal.  

The man, I knew from overhearing a conversation from last time, is an artisan.  He makes 98% of the menu on site.  "Everything but the coffee beans, and we don't churn the butter," he said with a laugh.  I'm not an artisan, but I am a professionally trained cook and when I present somebody with something I've worked on, and am proud of and they refuse it hurts.  A lot.  He takes great pride in his work, and I realized (again, as much of an excuse as it sounds like) that it was about doing something to not offend.  Paul, of course, talks about this in being a Jew to the Jewish, Greek to the Greek, etc.  Was it a sin to partake during Lent?  If I was Catholic enough I might say that, but I'm not.  Grace is extreme and I wasn't violating the actual purpose of Lent in my heart.  Had it been earlier when I was really struggling I might have said something, but no.  Had I eaten the cheesecake and then felt horrible about it then maybe I would have written a different post.  And this is where the analogy of our little addictions being the same as sins breaks down.  It's instructive, illustrative in fact, but not equal to.  It was enough that during the first two weeks of Lent the Lord broke a major stronghold and after ingesting the artisan, hand crafted, blackberry cheesecake the craving was still not there.  At least not in the sanity clawing, soul shredding intensity it was before.

On the interesting but not necessarily spiritually relevant side, I have spent years suffering from acid reflux type symptoms.  For ages it did not matter if I ate acidic stuff or not, I would be popping the antacids.  At first it was kind of a "Huh...I wonder if sugar is responsible..." and then I ate the cheesecake.  The evening and all the next morning I had such acid attacks.  I am pretty certain I will not going back to sugar anymore after Lent is finished.  It will mean no diabetes, which I'm sure has been a concern of a few family and close friends.  

Pax,

W

On Lent: The Greatest Commandments

If Lent is a season in which we are called to consider "What is it mean to be a faithful disciple of Jesus" then we must consider, at some point, the Greatest Commandment.

1. Love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, all your mind, and all your strength.

According to Jesus, in multiple Gospels though I'm in Mark 12 for this one, the second is like it.

2. Love your neighbor as yourself.

Anyone with a Sunday School grade level can recite that from rote memory, but when it comes to understanding it...at least in my case, not so much.

How in the world is loving my neighbor in the same manner as I love myself anywhere CLOSE to loving God with all my heart, soul, mind, and strength?  It's something that I take on Faith (with a capital F, please note, which indicates the concept is too large for me to get a grapple on at the moment) because I don't understand it.  Feel free to comment down below and help me wrestle with it.

Taking it on Faith I tackle the more manageable second one.  And I've been crap at it.  I used to suffer from a fairly significant Social Anxiety.  I wouldn't dare call it "severe" merely because I have no basis for comparison.  It wasn't Anxiety in the way I think most people feel anxiety, which is a physical response with no corresponding logic to it.  Again, I haven't studied anxiety, so if I'm incorrect feel free to correct me in the comments below.  I've always had fairly logical reasons for my anxiety, or so I've believed.

When I meet a person I always have a certain amount of awkwardness because I recognize that I'm nothing to whoever I meet.  I'm a face without a name until I'm introduced, and who the heck am I to assume anything let alone that I have a right to their time let alone their consideration?  Sometimes I feel the same way about my blogs, but I figure you can just close them if you don't want them and be on your merry way.  I tend to feel that I don't even have a right to introduce myself to someone, and when others have introduced me I have felt like that was some sort of an imposition.  But, usually once a conversation begins even then I'm at a loss.  I'm not a very small talk type person.  I've never been able to pull off the "Oh...so, uh...are you originally from here?" type conversation.  It's awkward, I sound awkward, and it feels like I'm really not interested, struggling for something so the other person who started talking to me doesn't feel rejected.  And it sounds like that because I really feel that way.  If I could skip the awkward "getting to know you" bit and launch into the in depth struggling with our human and spiritual selves philosophical sort of conversation I would.  That's the territory I feel the most at home in.  But this, "Oh gee...that Nor'easter we got the other day...what did ya think of that?" is painful.  Then you search around trying to find something in common and people always go to Sports.  I know why they go to sports...but I am not a sports guy.  Even in my favorite sport of Soccer I don't much like talking about it.  And that's why I wear Fandom shirts.

Fandom shirts (currently wearing my Doctor Who shirt with the glow-in-the-dark Weeping Angels) let me bypass all of that...generally.  One of the Small Group studies I went to I spent 8 agonizing weeks going wearing a different shirt and got no bites.  It was a couples thing with the guys but me were all swollen armed "Guys Guys", talking manliness, outdoors, trucks, and the like.  I wore Doctor Who shirts, Sherlock shirts, video game shirts, and in a last ditch (and perennially futile effort) I wore an Edgar Allen Poe shirt with a quote from "The Murders of the Rue Morgue" and one of the ladies there said the quote sounded romantic.

I'm just not a "reacher-out-er".  I figure that if we are meant to be friends then it's going to happen, and even THEN I have anxiety.  My past is a long history of thinking that each friendship is actually more important to the other person than it actually ends up being.  And that hurts.  I was friends for two years with someone and our wives were good friends.  It's such a trite story where the friend holds a party...I didn't get an invite...then one of the other friends casually remarks that "Yeah, it was a great party.  All his friends were there." and I realize that I've been just an acquaintance all this time and I thought I was a friend.  It has happened in more instances than I can actually count on my hands, fingers and toes.  And it hurts.  It hurts a lot.  It doesn't just cut, it shreds.  That shredding makes a person more than a little gun shy when it comes to forging friendships and putting yourself out there.  I've been fortunate to have one person in my life who is such a good friend that when we meet up it's like we never parted (even when it was ten years apart) or I would give up on the whole "having friends thing".

All that to say that I have anxiety because I've been damaged, not some chemical imbalance...which would be far worse I agree.

And, all that to get back to what I realized about our second greatest commandment.

"Oh well...get out there anyway."

Satori is a Zen concept that indicates a sudden realization that feels like getting smacked upside the head with a brick spiritually.  I had that.

Loving your neighbor is about loving whoever happens to be next to you at the time.  Loving him/her as yourself means treating them precisely how you would want to be treated.  For me, that means getting over my anxiety so that I can welcome them into my life as warmly and completely as I would actually want to be on the receiving end of.  I need to be treating whoever I meet with precisely the same love and care as my one completely steadfast friend did when they met me.  Yes, I've been hurt.  Yes, I have anxiety to deal with.  However, I'm in danger of turning into exactly what hurt me.  If I hold my hurt I'll make it awkward for others, I'll love at a distance, I'll not invite someone, etc.  The only way to not become what hurt me to someone else is to let go, rely on Jesus to do what He has commanded, and love with His love.  It's scary, but I'm pretty sure He can accomplish it in me when He has already commanded it of me.

It may seem a little thing now that I've pushed it outside of myself for you to see, but I'm a bit bigger on the inside for the realization.

Pax,

W

On Lent : Plucking out an eye...

I remember the first time I heard someone explain the very colorful passage where Jesus declares that if your eye offends/causes you to sin then gouge it out (Matt 5:29 and then again in Matt 18:9.  My father had a friend from work over to dinner and he knew we were Christians.  The man was "Christ Curious" and asked my dad what the passage meant.  Was Jesus serious?  If so, my dad's friend related, he'd be a blind, mute, paraplegic before the week was through.   I laughed heartily, but it stuck with me.  It is such a vivid image.  My father went on to explain it was, naturally, Jesus being hyperbolic to establish how seriously God takes sin and, by extension, how seriously we should treat sin.

This Saturday (Hurrah for Saturday Evening church) our Pastor's homily/sermon (Is it "homily" in Presbyterian circles?  I know it can be for Catholics...bah...) was on the basics of what Lent is all about.  He said, "Lent forces us to ask the question, 'What does it mean to be a disciple of Jesus Christ?'".  The text was from Mark 8 where Jesus declares his own impending death.  Peter takes Jesus aside and rebukes him for saying he's going to die.  (Seriously...Peter rebuking Jesus...whew...) Jesus turns around and rebukes Peter by calling him Satan.  Seriously.  He calls him Satan.  And then he makes a statement that, because of the multi-millenia distance, sounds innocuous to us.

"Whoever wants to be my disciple must deny themselves and take up their cross and follow me."

Let that sink in.  Let that REALLY sink in.  Forget that we wear crosses as jewelry.  Forget every time you've seen them in the sanctuary of your local church.  Forget that you know the end of each gospel.  What is a cross?  What was a cross to them?

It was a horribly unclean implement of torture used upon criminals originated in its use by an oppressive gentile regime.

Pick up my cross?  Really Jesus?  What the heck are you talking about?  I'm not condemned to die.  I'm not an unclean law breaker.  Did you eat some bad Matzo or something?  You're talking crazy, dude.  Maybe you should take a nap and we'll clarify that later.  Let's get you out of the sun there, Mister Messiah, OK?

If they could see us from then to now and saw the representation of the cross in our churches, around our necks, tattooed on our arms, on our Bibles, as decals on our vehicles, I'm fairly certain they would throw up in their mouths a little.  It was that repulsive to them.  We're talking on the order of when Jesus declared that if they wanted to be saved then they needed to eat his flesh and drink his blood.  It cost him a lot of disciples.

This was, of course, Jesus speaking outside of time already knowing what was to come.  But what is the cross we are called to carry?

It is not the things we give up for Lent.  As difficult as that is, and the sugar cravings are pretty darn bad over here, it is not our "cross".  Difficulties, disease, pain, problematic relationships, etc...I don't think that these are "the cross we have to bear".  Sure, they are less than pleasant to go through, but I think there is a bigger meaning here.

I like how The Voice puts it, "If any of you wants to follow Me, you will have to give yourself up to God's plan..."

HIS plan no matter what it is, the cost, or what might happen as a result.  Can you trust God's plan to death?  I find it to be pretty easy to say, "Yes.  In a renounce Jesus or die situation I would choose death."  It is harder when you add torture to the mix.  If you add public humiliation and shaming to it then I'm even less likely to be OK with the divine plan.  How about working for no visible result and still putting in the time day after day?  I often ask people, "What if God's "great and mighty" plan for you is to be a janitor?  Or a stay at home parent?  What if it's to work your 9-5 with no recognition?  Would you deny yourself and give your all for His will?"  I'm always surprised how many people discount that possibility.  They brush it aside with some personal assurance that whatever God has for them is FAR more glorious than something so petty or humble...forgetting, of course, that the least will be greatest and the last first in Jesus' upside down rule that declares us all to be servants and subservient to one another.

A cross, at least in my eyes, matches Jesus' path.  "I really would rather not have to suffer living through to this plan you have set before me...but, nevertheless, Your will be done."

The things we give up for Lent, I'm realizing, has more to do with the eye-gouging.  What I give up offends me, is bad for me, is going to ultimately kill me or my relationship to God.  I'm startlingly aware of why Jesus refers to these things in our life that offend as "body parts".  We love them like they are.  We take our sins or other negative behaviors and we clutch them to our chest, both disgusted by them yet very unwilling to give them up.  I'm shocked at how much giving up something as simple and relatively innocent as sugar is quite like losing a limb.  It becomes something of a metaphor for my "innocent" sins.  Jesus is calling saying, "Cut it off.  It's bad for you.  Trust me.  Pluck it out.  You don't need it.  It can only weigh you down.  Make the clean break."  Usually I find myself begging, "I only just want to keep it a little longer.  Just a LITTLE bit longer.  The littlest bit.  Come on.  Please?"  It's a self serving lie, of course.  He does know best.

I say to myself more than anyone else, "Let go.  Give it up.  Trust Him.  The Father knows best."

Pax,

W

Ash Wednesday

My family has recently begun attending the local Presbyterian "Mega Church" as I call it.  (Seriously, it's the biggest Presbyterian church I've ever seen.  It doesn't seat thousands but it does have three services).  The church we had been attending decided to move twenty minutes away so we'd been churchless for a while.  The Presbyterian church is where we've sent our kids to AWANA so we had a pretty good feel of the people or at least the place so social anxiety was minimal.  I had some other qualifications I felt I needed in a church (I can't remember if I've written about that.  I'll have to look.  That was an...interesting...process...) and the Presby satisfied them all.  We started attending the Saturday evening service which, let me tell you, is a great thing for a church to have.

Anyway, the point is that, as my wife states, Presby is kind of like Catholic light...all the ritual without the Latin, the guilt, and they let the leaders be married.  I'm not sure that's an official description, but suffice to say they celebrate things like Ash Wednesday.

I'd never been to an Ash Wednesday service before given that I had the typical FEC sensibilities of "It ain't in the Bible, so we ain't doin' it".  Maybe it's my age creeping up on me and sentimentality creeping in, but I felt like I really wanted to go and experience it.  I'd done Lent before and was committed to doing it again this year by giving up sugar.  Well, sugar in overt forms.  I know bread has some sugar in it as do fruits but I'm not giving them up.  The sugar in my coffee, cookies, candy, soda, etc. however are verboten.  It's the indulgences I'm limiting.  (Day two is going on right now for me and...the withdrawals are pretty bad right now.  My body is less than happy with me.)

There was a soup and bread meal before the service that we also attended in order that we might get to know the congregation a little better.  I say "might" because I'm a little strange when it comes to meeting people.  My wife is the more daring one when it comes to conversation.  I'm always busy thinking, double thinking, and triple thinking what I'm going to say, how it will be received, how they might respond, and by the time that process is over I start wondering if the length of time I've spent thinking it through has been too long so as to make it not just awkward but super awkward.  It's a vicious cycle.

The time came and we all filed into the sizeable sanctuary which filled up very quickly.  That was probably my first shock.  At all the churches I've been a part of before it was hit or miss that even a quarter of the congregation showed up for an event that wasn't on Sunday morning.

My nine year old daughter nudged me a bit and asked me where the ashes were and if they actually were the burned palm branches from last palm Sunday.  My little nerdling had researched it before we left the house.  I replied that I didn't know and that wasn't necessarily a for sure thing.  She then asked what it was all about.  Apparently the things she retained from her research were more along the lines of interesting trivia.
I explained about ashes as a symbol of mourning and how we come to Lent as a recognition of our sins; that our sins have offended God, that we are from dust and to dust we will return.

She asked if she had to get that stuff on her forehead if she went up and I assured her that it's only for the will, completely voluntary.  My daughter gave a confession of faith in Jesus last year and still hadn't even gone forward for her first communion so I didn't expect that she would even entertain the idea

One of the things people in FEC circles get hung up on connected to Ash Wednesday and, by extension, Lent is the focus on the "sin" component.  I was struck by this when my sister had called me earlier in the day to relate her experience attending the event at a Catholic church.  The priest apparently went on about our sin, how sinful we are, how it offends God, and so on until she had to leave.  Naturally my Smart Ass (tm) reply was, "Did you check the denomination before you went through the door" and she said yes, of course but...what about Grace?  Naturally my brain kicked into overdrive and started obsessing on the differences.  I came to a few conclusions and notions.

It was best said by the pastor at the Presby service that night.  He said that we cannot understand the full value of that grace until we understand the depths of our depravity and the offensiveness of our sin.

Jesus' sacrifice has little value to those who don't think they did much of anything wrong in the first place.  Amazing Grace is only such a sweet song when we realize we are a wretch.  I look reflect and find that I can easily live my life thinking that my sins are minor things because I'm keeping the Big Ten with little to no problem.  I'm really not bowing down at idols, disrespecting my parents in word or deed, haven't come close to murdering, and I can't even remember the last time I coveted my neighbor's donkey.  But God says my heart is corrupt and full of deceit.  I sin.  I sin all the time.  Not a day goes by that I do not sin.  It's a modern numbing that tells me "Oh, well, ya know He's going to forgive you so shrug it off and don't give it a second thought."  Just because I know that the Judge with find me innocent doesn't mean that I should feel nothing when finding that I've committed a crime.  Should I feel condemned?  No.  However, should I feel nothing?  Sin is a cancer and there's not a cancer patient in this world that hears the diagnosis and goes, "Oh, sure.  Ok, Doc.  Thanks," with a casual air like I can tend to do with my sins.

After an invocation prayer they had someone play and sing Phil Wickham's song Mercy and I nearly wept in my pew.  We forget that we need mercy.  It's so easy to fall prey to Behavioral Christianity that believes Grace covers everything so don't think on it or let it prick your conscience.  We become quite happily numb to our wretchedness.  I'm not at all saying that we should consider, as I was told as a child, that every sin we commit is another thorn in the brow or a twist of the nail in Jesus' hand.  But it does us well to remember on occasion lest we become like the Ungrateful Servant.

Ash Wednesday is a reminder that our sins have offended God.  Lent is all about giving up our little idols, our comforts, and mourning that we tend to lavish them with more adoration and attention than we do the Jesus who saved us.  In the end we are our own idols, as it turns out.  The things we give up seem to make room for us to hold on to more of the LORD.

I had prepped for the occasion.  I wasn't about to be caught off guard again by the Non-FEC style communion where they actually say things to you. "This is the body of Christ broken for you." "Uh....thank you?" (Direct quote from our first visit).  I wondered if they would go with the oh so Catholic, "Remember that you are dust and to dust you shall return." or the slightly more modernly palatable, "Repent and believe the gospel."

The pastor looked into my eyes and said, "Dust you are and to dust you shall return.  Repent, believe the gospel and follow after Jesus."

For the second time that evening I nearly lost it.

I don't believe that there is a power inherent in the rituals themselves.  It would be easy to confuse the issue there.  I had always seen the rituals as empty expressions without power and meaning.  I was likely half right.  They are without power.  However I do believe that when we use them to draw nigh unto the LORD he is faithful to show up and draw night unto us.  Just going through the motions without a fully engage heart is not enough.  Believe that the ritual has any power in and of itself is not enough.  It's such a fine hair's breadth line that it can be difficult to put into language.

God showed up for me there, that is for sure, just like He has faithfully shown up in my "ritual" of praying three times a day, and reading my Bible first thing in the morning.

Something snagged my attention out of the corner of my eye.  The pastor was rising from a bent position and I wondered why since I believed that it was my wife right behind me and she's short but not that short.  A familiar bashful and half afraid face appeared belonging to my daughter as the pastor moved out of the way to put an ash cross on my wife's forehead.  I could not help but beam at my daughter.  I had wondered if she would ever take the next step in her faith walk by taking communion, and here she was participating in Ash Wednesday.  She followed me through the communion elements accidentally grabbing the crust of the loaf she was presented with and had an adorable little tug of war with the deacon who held it.  Dipping it in the cup of wine she walked faster to catch up with me and ask in a loud whisper, "Do I eat it now or do I wait 'til we're in our seats?".  I smiled and told her either was OK, but I eat it right away because it can drip on your hands.

We walked back to our seats, sang a hymn, received the Benediction, and were asked to exit in silence.

Exiting in silence was one of the strangest experiences of my life.  It was unsettling, and that was the point.  Ash Wednesday is not about rejoicing.  The rejoicing comes at the end, on Easter Sunday.  We were to feel unsettled, as if something was wrong, because something is wrong.  Sin broke the world.  Again, I like to think of it as a minor inconvenience, but sin is a terrible, horrible thing that has shattered lives, destroyed man's relationship with God and I wonder how many times I look at my sinning brother and I shrug in the same way I do with it in my life.  I couldn't help but think of my previous pastor and the Solemn Assembly he holds every year in October as an "Ash Wednesday" for another season of fasting.  I think we could stand to take sin seriously more than once a year.

Pax,

W