I've had ideas, nearly made it to the keyboard a few times, but just haven't updated this blog in a while.
Funny thing is, sometimes I think things like that happen because God's not done with a previous idea yet.
That notion came full circle for me with this week's Sunday morning sermon. It was about Jesus' parable of the prodigal son. Oh boy, heard this one a few times before, right? Wrong.
As the pastor spoke, he emphasized this crazy notion of grace. The idea that we don't pay the penalty for our wrongs. Instead, someone else -- Jesus -- pays the penalty despite doing everything right.
It's not fair is it? But that's just it. The prodigal son came home knowing what he deserved, but instead of an "I told you so" and being sent to live with the servants, he got a feast and a festival. He got grace.
And so it goes for us. Heaven knows we don't want what we deserve, yikes! We want grace ... which brings me back to my post about Easter being for me and my plank-eyed soul.
What I was really trying to say is that Easter is about being offered grace, even when I don't deserve it. It's about someone else paying the penalty for my wrongs. It's about a father, a Heavenly Father, that not only welcomes me home but runs to meet me.
He knows I've been slopping hogs and squandering my gifts. He knows I deserve nothing more than a swift kick to the posterior and that I am inferior.
But he gives me a party hat and some presents, and says, "Welcome back."
That's not what I deserve, but that's grace, that's Easter, that is a miracle!
Monday, April 26, 2010
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Happy endings
The stage was set Monday night in Indianapolis. Underdog Butler had a chance to win the NCAA men's basketball championship against perennial power Duke. In fact, the Bulldogs wound up with not one, but two shots at victory.
But as many say, sports is a microcosm of life, and that means no one should be surprised when both shots missed and the happy ending of a movie script was not to be.
For all of us on this earth are headed to an unhappy ending. It is inevitable -- "the wages of sin is death." Even Jesus as he took on our sin was forced into an unhappy ending on the cross.
But that celebration we just had on Easter Sunday gives us hope. The resurrection of Christ tells us that all those unhappy endings can turn out to be new beginnings.
Death is not the destination, it is the doorway.
But as many say, sports is a microcosm of life, and that means no one should be surprised when both shots missed and the happy ending of a movie script was not to be.
For all of us on this earth are headed to an unhappy ending. It is inevitable -- "the wages of sin is death." Even Jesus as he took on our sin was forced into an unhappy ending on the cross.
But that celebration we just had on Easter Sunday gives us hope. The resurrection of Christ tells us that all those unhappy endings can turn out to be new beginnings.
Death is not the destination, it is the doorway.
Friday, April 2, 2010
Easter is for me
From Ash Wednesday to Palm Sunday and Maundy Thursday and Good Friday to, finally, Easter Sunday, we've probably heard and will hear no shortage of meditations, sermons and thoughts on Easter. So here's mine. 
Let me start with Matthew 7:3-5, not your typical Easter text:
"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye."
I quote this passage because it is the basis for one of my favorite songs, "Easter", by an obscure band called Raspberry Jam. It is preceded by the recitation of the George Herbert poem, Easter. The chorus is this simple thought:
"She whispers support and I scream judgment,
You see Easter is for me and Plank-eyed soul."
The simplicity and truth of this floors me. Jesus died upon the cross for the thousands who offered support as he rode into Jersualem on a donkey then screamed judgment days later when offered a choice between the criminal Barabbas and their former messiah.
He died for Peter, who told Jesus "I will never fall away," and within 24 hours had denied every knowing the man.
He rose again for the very same, and for Thomas, who would not believe until he had seen and touched the scars for himself.
He rose again for a man named Saul, who persecuted Christians in the name of the Lord until a blinding light on the road to Damascus changed his name to Paul and his mission to salvation.
He died and rose again for me, who would scream judgment at the tiniest speck of sin in the life of my friend, family or even a stranger while a plank the size of Texas obscured my own vision of God.
Jesus' resurrection on the third day -- on Easter -- is all about second chances, and sometimes third and fourth, even 999th chances. That empty tomb gives every man the chance to one day return to the Garden of Eden, to perfection.
Every plank in my eye was the wood Jesus' hands and feet were nailed to.
On one side of him, a criminal whispered support, "This man had done nothing wrong. ... Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
On the other side, a criminal screamed judgment, "Aren't you the Christ? Save yourself and us!"
There, but for the grace of God, go I. You see, Easter is for me and my Plank-eyed soul.
Let me start with Matthew 7:3-5, not your typical Easter text:
"Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and pay no attention to the plank in your own eye? How can you say to your brother, 'Let me take the speck out of your eye,' when all the time there is a plank in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck from your brother's eye."
I quote this passage because it is the basis for one of my favorite songs, "Easter", by an obscure band called Raspberry Jam. It is preceded by the recitation of the George Herbert poem, Easter. The chorus is this simple thought:
"She whispers support and I scream judgment,
You see Easter is for me and Plank-eyed soul."
The simplicity and truth of this floors me. Jesus died upon the cross for the thousands who offered support as he rode into Jersualem on a donkey then screamed judgment days later when offered a choice between the criminal Barabbas and their former messiah.
He died for Peter, who told Jesus "I will never fall away," and within 24 hours had denied every knowing the man.
He rose again for the very same, and for Thomas, who would not believe until he had seen and touched the scars for himself.
He rose again for a man named Saul, who persecuted Christians in the name of the Lord until a blinding light on the road to Damascus changed his name to Paul and his mission to salvation.
He died and rose again for me, who would scream judgment at the tiniest speck of sin in the life of my friend, family or even a stranger while a plank the size of Texas obscured my own vision of God.
Jesus' resurrection on the third day -- on Easter -- is all about second chances, and sometimes third and fourth, even 999th chances. That empty tomb gives every man the chance to one day return to the Garden of Eden, to perfection.
Every plank in my eye was the wood Jesus' hands and feet were nailed to.
On one side of him, a criminal whispered support, "This man had done nothing wrong. ... Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."
On the other side, a criminal screamed judgment, "Aren't you the Christ? Save yourself and us!"
There, but for the grace of God, go I. You see, Easter is for me and my Plank-eyed soul.
Thursday, March 11, 2010
The Whirlwind
We've all been there. The to-do list is longer than the hours in the day, the bills are higher than the balance in the bank and our relationships are strained to the breaking point.
It feels like we're caught in a whirlwind, being blown to pieces by the pressures of life.
It's an idea I've been thinking about a lot this last week -- largely brought on by my purchase of a CD called The Whirlwind, by Transatlantic.
The title piece is broken into 12 parts spanning 77 minutes with this cohesive theme of the whirlwind. Some sample lyrics if you will:
And we got caught in the whirlwind
Torn by the storms of our lives
We counted - counted on something
That never could hold up our lives
...
And we got caught in the whirlwind
Torn by the storms of our lives
And just when we thought we had something
It turned into dust in our eyes
So curiosity got the best of me and I checked to see how many times the word "whirlwind" appeared in the Bible. And the answer I came up with was 15, all in the Old Testament.
Most often, whirlwind might bring to mind the story of Elijah being taken up to heaven in 2 Kings 2.
But primarily, the message these passages conveyed is the same as the lyrics above. For example, Isaiah 40:23-24:
He brings princes to naught and reduces the rulers of this world to nothing.
No sooner are they planted, no sooner are they sown, no sooner do they take root in the ground, than he blows on them and they wither, and a whirlwind sweeps them away like chaff.
So what will we do when the whirlwind begins to blow us around? Attempt to cling to the things of this world or grab hold of something more substantial, something eternal?
The CD concludes with an idea that I believe Elijah found to be true:
There is in the heart of the whirlwind
One who has been for all time
And he was sent to deliver
And bring forth the river of life
And we are here in the wilderness
Seeking some shelter inside
And now that it's done
Out of the whirlwind
Comes forth the true breath of life
It feels like we're caught in a whirlwind, being blown to pieces by the pressures of life.
It's an idea I've been thinking about a lot this last week -- largely brought on by my purchase of a CD called The Whirlwind, by Transatlantic.
The title piece is broken into 12 parts spanning 77 minutes with this cohesive theme of the whirlwind. Some sample lyrics if you will:
And we got caught in the whirlwind
Torn by the storms of our lives
We counted - counted on something
That never could hold up our lives
...
And we got caught in the whirlwind
Torn by the storms of our lives
And just when we thought we had something
It turned into dust in our eyes
So curiosity got the best of me and I checked to see how many times the word "whirlwind" appeared in the Bible. And the answer I came up with was 15, all in the Old Testament.
Most often, whirlwind might bring to mind the story of Elijah being taken up to heaven in 2 Kings 2.
But primarily, the message these passages conveyed is the same as the lyrics above. For example, Isaiah 40:23-24:
He brings princes to naught and reduces the rulers of this world to nothing.
No sooner are they planted, no sooner are they sown, no sooner do they take root in the ground, than he blows on them and they wither, and a whirlwind sweeps them away like chaff.
So what will we do when the whirlwind begins to blow us around? Attempt to cling to the things of this world or grab hold of something more substantial, something eternal?
The CD concludes with an idea that I believe Elijah found to be true:
There is in the heart of the whirlwind
One who has been for all time
And he was sent to deliver
And bring forth the river of life
And we are here in the wilderness
Seeking some shelter inside
And now that it's done
Out of the whirlwind
Comes forth the true breath of life
Saturday, March 6, 2010
Snow White
The thing about being around a kids is that you often have the chance to go back and see games, books or movies that you haven't given much thought to in years. And along with that, you see those things from a wiser (maybe?), more jaded (likely) adult perspective.
Such was the case in watching Walt Disney's animated classic, Snow White. The story is a fairy tale that may be as old as the Middle Ages and was first put to print by the Brothers Grimm in the early 1800's. The tale has certainly had its fair share of revisions over the years, but nonetheless, in this most popular animated version, I observed a great deal of Christian symbolism.
Snow White is so good and perfect that when the evil Queen is told by her magic mirror that "Snow White is the fairest one of all," it enrages her. Like Lucifer, the angel of light, she seeks to destroy this perfect creation (mankind).
And, of course, the evil Queen does eventually appear to succeed with her poison apple -- OK, that one is a bit obvious.
There are seven dwarfs, a popular number for symbolizing completion/perfection in the Bible, that are Snow White's friends.
After she eats of the apple (sin), the dwarfs put Snow White in a glass coffin and mourn her death until the Prince arrives to unlock the power of that death with his kiss. Snow White is awakened and walks arm in arm with the Prince toward a golden castle gleaming in the clouds on the horizon -- a perfect picture of our resurrection and ultimate destination. And don't forget the dwarfs chased the evil Queen until she fell off the cliff to the bottom of a pit.
There's certainly greater detail that could be explored, but these are just some of the big picture highlights.
While none of this is breaking new ground, I was reminded once again that we can see God's hand many places if we only open our eyes.
And may we all live happily ever after!
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Loss is gain
It's a funny thing. It seems like the moments of life we remember most often center around the loss of something.
When you're sitting around with family or old friends, you don't say, "Remember the time that lady gave me a stick of gum?"
No, you say, "Remember the time Junior tried to climb over the fence and lost his pants?"
Of course, many memories are more serious: a broken arm, the loss of family to divorce, the death of a loved one. But it all speaks to the fact that there is no satisfaction is what is given to us, but in what shapes us and molds us, even in the most difficult times. It's the reason that when we read a good book or see a good movie, there is always a conflict, a challenge, a hole to get out of.
Speaking of holes, my daughter has a new hole in her teeth -- right there in the front, bottom left center to be exact. It's the result of the loss of her first tooth. Now that's a memory.
So may it be for us as Christians. We don't think much about the times when life cruised along, but it's the times of loss that stand out. It's the reason why Paul wrote as he did in Philippians 3:7-9:
"But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith."
And more simply in Philippians 1:21:
"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain."
When you're sitting around with family or old friends, you don't say, "Remember the time that lady gave me a stick of gum?"
No, you say, "Remember the time Junior tried to climb over the fence and lost his pants?"
Of course, many memories are more serious: a broken arm, the loss of family to divorce, the death of a loved one. But it all speaks to the fact that there is no satisfaction is what is given to us, but in what shapes us and molds us, even in the most difficult times. It's the reason that when we read a good book or see a good movie, there is always a conflict, a challenge, a hole to get out of.
Speaking of holes, my daughter has a new hole in her teeth -- right there in the front, bottom left center to be exact. It's the result of the loss of her first tooth. Now that's a memory.
So may it be for us as Christians. We don't think much about the times when life cruised along, but it's the times of loss that stand out. It's the reason why Paul wrote as he did in Philippians 3:7-9:
"But whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ. What is more, I consider everything a loss compared to the surpassing greatness of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord, for whose sake I have lost all things. I consider them rubbish, that I may gain Christ and be found in him, not having a righteousness of my own that comes from the law, but that which is through faith in Christ—the righteousness that comes from God and is by faith."
And more simply in Philippians 1:21:
"For to me, to live is Christ and to die is gain."
Monday, February 22, 2010
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