Evil or Divine

I was recently listening to a song which posed the question, "Are we evil or divine?"

I found the question rather appropriate for these days in which our society is so polarizing.

So many times, which team you root for, which political party you support, which side of town you live on, what kind of music you listen to or even what's in your recycle bin is the difference between being labeled friend or foe, evil or divine.

And the correct answer for both our society and our spiritual lives is often: both. Just listen to Paul in Romans 7:19-25:

For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me. For in my inner being I delight in God's law; but I see another law at work in the members of my body, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within my members. What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body of death? Thanks be to God through Jesus Christ our Lord!

So then, I myself in my mind am a slave to God's law, but in the sinful nature a slave to the law of sin.

Evil or divine? No, evil and divine.

Peace that passeth understanding

If you're a parent, you know the look -- that cherubic expression on a child's face when they are asleep. A sort of smile that says all is well.

I saw it pass over my daughter's face tonight, and, for some reason, the phrase, "peace that passeth understanding" leaped into my mind.

The expression comes from Philippians 4:6-7: "Be careful for nothing; but in every thing by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passeth all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus."

I think that child-like contentment is the peace Paul is talking about. The knowledge that when I'm unaware of all the things swirling about me, and even when I am, I rest comfortably, peacefully ... past all understanding.

May you rest easy now -- peace.

More football

Blame it on the Super Bowl, but I seem to be stuck in a rut of ideas centering around football. I even put this post off a bit to try and break things up. No luck.

By now, it seems almost certain you've heard about the Super Bowl ad involving Tim Tebow and his mother promoting the fact that she did not have Tim aborted as doctors suggested after a being diagnosed with a medical condition.

Now, just for the record, put me down in the camp of people who have grown really tired of hearing how great Tim Tebow is, on the field or off. But also put me down for the camp that appreciates his honesty when it comes to faith and what he believes in.

An Associated Press article about this "controversial commercial" last week had a couple of quotes from people that rubbed me the wrong way, so here goes my latest rant:

Terry O’Neill, the president of the National Organization for Women, said she had respect for the private choices made by women such as Pam Tebow but condemned the planned ad as "extraordinarily offensive and demeaning."
"That’s not being respectful of other people’s lives," O’Neill said. "It is offensive to hold one way out as being a superior way over everybody else’s."


This just drives me nuts. Nobody's right and nobody's wrong, except the people who claim to be right, who are then declared wrong.

But hey, you want to throw yourself off a cliff? Go ahead. I don't think that's right, but if I try and stop you, I'm being disrespectful and demeaning. So have a nice fall!

OK, and one more quote:
A national columnist for CBSSports.com, Gregg Doyel, also objected to the CBS decision to show the ad, specifically because it would air on Super Sunday.

“If you’re a sports fan, and I am, that’s the holiest day of the year,” he wrote. “It’s not a day to discuss abortion. For it, against it, I don’t care what you are. On Super Sunday, I don’t care what I am. Feb. 7 is simply not the day to have that discussion.”

So let me get this straight. This is a perfect day to find 500 ways to entice people to drink beer, light beer, vodka and most any other form alcohol comes in. Alcohol that can damage your liver and your brain cells, including the ability to interact with other people responsibly. And don't forgot the drunk drivers that kill over 15,000 people a year in the United State.

But heaven forbid somebody take 30 seconds to suggest it might be a halfway decent idea not to kill people before they're born, trying to prevent well over 1 million abortions in the U.S. alone.

At least this crazy backlash comes as no surprise to Jesus, who in John 15:18-19 said:
"If the world hates you, keep in mind that it hated me first. If you belonged to the world, it would love you as its own. As it is, you do not belong to the world, but I have chosen you out of the world. That is why the world hates you."

Jerseys for Jesus

So I was at church this morning and saw Peyton Manning, Percy Harvin and Drew Brees ...

Well, not them actually, but their jerseys were there. And I guess you'd call it a pet peeve, but is it really necessary to wear a football jersey to church, especially if you're older than a fifth grader?

I think sometimes people don't really think about what they're doing, or they might realize what a slap in the face it is to God. You think so much of another man that you wear that man's name and number on a shirt while attending the one (for most people) religious, God-oriented event of the week.

How can you worship God with somebody else's name on your shirt?

I don't know, maybe I'm just well on my way to being a grumpy old man. But in the meantime, I did think of one condition on which people would be allowed to wear football jerseys and the like to church.

OK, get an image of Jeff Foxworthy doing "You might be a redneck ..." jokes and then follow along.

If you wear a jersey for Jesus to an NFL stadium, you might be able to wear an NFL jersey to church.

And I think such a jersey would be gold (for heaven) with a red (for Jesus' blood) infinity symbol in place of a number and the name 'I am' printed on the back. I mean, really, if Peyton Manning is so important you can wear him to church, why not wear Jesus to the Colts' game?

If you wear a shirt and tie so you can leave the game early to attend church, you might be able to wear an NFL jersey on Sunday morning.

If you put on headphones to listen to a sermon during the game, you might be able to wear an NFL jersey to church.

If you rent a big screen TV to celebrate Super Church Sunday by watching your pastor's sermon, you might be able to wear an NFL jersey to church.

If you actually play in the NFL and have your own uniform, you might be able to wear an NFL jersey to church.

I Want To Know What Love Is

Well, as this blog is prone to do, it's time to take a detour from my ramblings to spotlight some musical meanderings instead.

The video above speaks for itself, but the reason I've posted this interview from November 2009 is because I've been recently listening to the new Lou Gramm Band cd. And it makes me realize what a testimony Lou Gramm has. It would be enough if he was just a famous rock singer turned Christian. But add in the brain tumor and wow!

The interview above (please watch now) doesn't really do justice to the seriousness of Gramm's 1997 illness.

"You know, when you find out you have a tumor in your brain the size of an egg, it changes everything," Gramm told the New York Daily News in 2007. "Even though it was benign, it threatened my life. All of the best minds in Rochester and New York City shied away from it -- and that kind of shook me up."

He actually was watching 20/20 when he saw a segment about a new laser surgery by this one doctor (Peter Black), so he called.

"I got a hold of his office that day and by that Thursday I was in the operating room. For 19 hours," he told the Daily News.

Gramm was already a Christian by that point, but the tumor put the halt on building the momentum Foreigner had from the success of its previous album, Mr. Moonlight.

Gramm hurried back and went on tour with Foreigner again from 1998 to 2002, while still recovering. The surgery impacted his voice, his adrenal glands and caused him to gain a great deal of weight before he quit Foreigner for good in 2002.

Two years later, he formed the Lou Gramm Band, including two of his brothers. His health is the best it has been since the surgery and while he still plays his solo and Foreigner hits, the words of the infamous I Want to Know What Love Is take on a different meaning, just as the video hints at:

I'm gonna take a little time
A little time to look around me,
I've got nowhere left to hide
It looks like love has finally found me

In my life there's been heartache and pain
I don't know if I can face it again
I can't stop now, I've traveled so far
To change this lonely life

I wanna know what love is
I want you to show me
I wanna feel what love is
I know you can show me

Whiter than snow

OK, I'm back from my blogacation and ready to roll.

Two days over freezing in a row, and we are finally rid of last week's 5-inch snow dump -- except for those lingering piles in the parking lots, of course.

But the snow reminded me of one of the many metaphors Christians like to throw around ... whiter than snow.

The origin of the phrase comes from Psalm 51:7b: "... wash me. and I will be whiter than snow." And I'll bet more than a few of you out there remember singing the hymn of the same name that determined to drive its point home with the chorus: "Whiter than snow, yes, whiter than snow. Now wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow." OK, got it.

I even have one of those "salvation bracelets" hanging in my car. You know the ones with a black bead for sin, red for Jesus' blood, white for washing away our sins, green for growth and gold for heaven?

But unfortunately, our beautiful metaphors don't allow for carrying out a complete comparison. Because while our hearts can be washed whiter than snow, like the piles in the parking lot, they don't stay that way.

Once the snow has stopped falling, the pure white coating begins to fade under the tread of boots, the pushing of shovels and snow plows. As time passes, the snow fades into slush and those piles in the parking lot display specks of dirt.

In fact, today a wise 5-year-old asked me, "Daddy, why is the snow rotten?"

And the same question could be asked of our hearts, once whiter than snow, now specked with the dirt of life and sin and struggle. But the good news that unlike the snow, which ultimately fades completely away, our hearts can be purified again and restored to the whiteness they previously knew -- a sort of miniature resurrection until the ultimate day of resurrection when they will be permanently pure.

Just a few verses later in Psalm 51:10, David writes these words: "Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me."

It's all in the bristles

I had an epiphany while brushing my teeth ... really, hang with me here.

I have one of those toothbrushes that requires a AA battery (see picture) so that with a flip of the switch, the bristles begin rotating to help clean your teeth better -- supposedly. While that is up for debate, here's what struck me.


I stuck the toothbrush in my mouth and commenced to spiffing up those pearly whites when suddenly I realized, 'Hey, that feels different. It even kind of hurts. When did those bristles become so sharp?'

Well, it turns out my wife ... unbeknownst to me ... had replaced my old, worn out and soft bristles with new ones. But I liked my old bristles. They were comfortable. They did what they were supposed to do although I didn't really have to feel anything. These new ones are sort of painful, like they're cleaning a little deeper than before.

And that's when I realized that I had just stuck a metaphor for the spiritual life in my mouth.

I settle for a routine of doing the same old things, going to the same old services, singing the familiar songs, saying the appropriate prayers. But I get comfortable and soft, and before long I don't even realize the compromise I've made.

At least not until I hear something new in a sermon, a song or a scripture -- and it feels different. There is a sharp edge to it, even kind of hurts.

And, yeah, suddenly I'm cleaning off the grime underneath that I let build up. An appropriate resolution as it turns out for the New Year -- digging a little deeper, feeling something more, letting God's bristles do their work.