Our world

If contemplation were the real cause of devotion, it should follow that the higher the matter of our contemplation the greater the devotion it begot.  But the opposite is the case.  For it frequently happens that greater devotion is aroused by the contemplation of the Passion of Christ and of the other mysteries of His Sacred Humanity than by meditation upon the Divine excellences.  - Thomas Aquinas

To know me is to know that I have three sons.  They are all boy.  Each one is brilliant in his own right.  Not a one of them is (at this point) overtly athletic or musical, though their interests are broad and healthy.   They love the same TV shows.  Yet with all of this commonality they are remarkably and distinctly individuals.  Their tastes for food, skills, aptitude, personalities, demonstration of affection - they are individuals.

They love their mom and me very much.  They know about some of my "achievements."  I.e. I graduated seminary, I'm an officer in the Air Force, and by my profile I am identical to Tom Cruise (in all honesty no one has noticed that last bit but me).  But, concerning those kinds of things my boys really don't care.  Not once has one of my boys said, "Father, your service to our nation is exemplary, your academic achievements inspiring, and, BTW, how do you remain so humble with such a rugged jaw-line?"  As they become men some of those things will matter to them.  But not today.

Today Ethan is impressed when I get on the floor and wrestle.  Seth knows he is loved when I tickle him and chase him around the house.  Joel prefers for us to read together or engage in a slightly more sophisticated level of play like a bike ride or soccer practice.  He is getting to an age where he shows some interest in my work, but even still, he needs me to enter his world more than he desires to enter mine.

So it is with us.  Our Father's achievements are incomprehensible.  So far out of our field of experience that we struggle to ask intelligent questions about His universe.  Most of His attributes are explained by theologians with words that begin with "omni" - ultimate or unlimited.  We delve into those things to a degree through study and contemplation.  We may think we are entering His world, but in reality our ability in those spheres is less than miniscule.  To understand Him we need Him to enter ours.

And so He did.  In the person of Jesus Christ God put on flesh and came down to where we live.  If we were five year old boys he would wrestle with us.  If we were two He would tickle us.  If we were seven He'd peddle with us to the soccer park.  He entered our world.  Maybe you are poor; He was born in a cave.  Maybe you suffer; He was crucified.  Maybe you are distressed; He sweat blood.  Maybe you have been betrayed; He was friends with Judas.  Maybe you get frustrated with subordinates; He employed Peter.

Because He came to our world we are able to ascend into His, but only as He lifts us up.  Only as our minds are enlightened.  We are amazed by those attributes that start with omni - He is omni-present, everywhere at once.  We are impressed philosophically, staggered intellectually, but are we moved?  Is our devotion deeper?  Does the omnipresence of God shake us to love our neighbor more?  Probably not.  Omnipresence doesn't mean much to a mortal.  But presence does.  He stepped out of omnipresence to be present.  He came to our world and stretches us into His a little at a time.  Thank God that He did.  Thank God that He left His Spirit so that He is still present with us.  Thank God that one day we will outgrow this world and be forever with Him in His.

Two kinds of fraud

A few years ago I read an article in Time, or was it People... Newsweek maybe?  Any way, it was about anxiety and the things that cause it and my reference to it will clearly be less than precise.  Point is, as far as I remember, the #1 cause for anxiety in men is the fear that they will be discovered to be a fraud.

Now there are frauds and then there are frauds!  I am thoroughly enjoying my read through Wyoming Range War which tells the story of the infamous invasion of Johnson County in 1892.  One of the predominant characters thus far is Sherif Frank Canton.  An iron willed, heavy fisted kind of guy that boasted of "always getting his man."  For 50 pages the reader follows Canton's pursuit of bad guys, learns a bit about his political career, and grows to understand his reputation as a relentless enforcer of the letter of the law.  Then, in the middle of a story that isn't even about him we're thrown a humdinger of a curve ball - "For one thing, he wasn't even Frank Canton.  That was an alias that he made up when fled from Texas... in fact, all of his family history was made up.  It is no exaggeration to say that his entire life was a lie.  The truth was that Frank Canton was Joe Horner, a fugitive from Texas with an extensive criminal history there."  These crimes ranged from assault, to cattle theft, to breaking out of jail, to murder.  Jumping from that life and landing in a two-term Sherif gig - I'd have to label Frank Canton / Joe Horner as a fraud's fraud.

Imagine the exhausting existence it would be to live life with a skeleton in your closet big enough to make a paleontologist drool.  Imagine what it would be like to live with a consent fear of being discovered a fraud.  Problem is, I am a fraud.  And so are you.  As a Christian I am here to represent Christ.  I am so unlike Him.  I sin, I fear, I manipulate, I boast, I retaliate, I regret, I plot, and that is just some of what I do.  Let's not talk about what I don't do.  Yet somehow in me and through me is manifested the hands and feet of the Spirit of Christ.  How?

This is where my fraudulent activity comes in.  As suggested by the title I believe there are two types of frauds.  I vacillate between the two quite consistently.  The first is the arrogant fraud.  I am that guy when I get up, go for a jog, eat a bowl of Wheaties, go to the office, check my e-mail, have a walk-in counselee, and try to help this person because, after all, I'm the pastor so I must have the answers.  At that moment I'm just Eli, pretending to be a representative of my King whom I haven't even spoken to today.  I'm an arrogant fraud trying to offer something I simply don't posses.

The other fraud we can call the legitimate fraud, or the sanctified fraud, or the honest fraud.  I'm that guy when, by God's grace, I get up and open my Bible.  Prayerfully I allow the Spirit to use the words to chisel off my sin, sand down the rough edges of pride, and wash me clean of those troublesome stains of personal agenda.  From this well-spring I minister to my family as they begin to wake up until I'm on my way out the door.  I sit at my desk looking out the window at my town in need of Christ's love.  When a fellow-sinner comes in for a visit I lead them to the One with the answers they need.  They thank me for help, because, after all I'm the pastor so I must have the answers.  I don't, but it's okay, because I'm a legit fraud, who knows it, and knows the only One in the universe who is no fraud.

The difference sounds so simple because it is.  But that simple difference changes lives.  It breaks paradigms and cancels sin.  In Acts it "turned the world upside down."  It removes the weight of anxiety because the legitimate fraud has nothing to hide.  There is no skeleton in his closet because he drags it out into the middle of the floor and says, "look, I'm just like you.  A sinner in need of God's grace.  Let's explore that grace together."

So, Time, or Newsweek, or whoever you are... I wish you knew the solution to our universal problem before you ran that article.  Since Adam's sin we are a race of frauds.  That needn't drive us to anxiety but to our knees.  To the cross.  To the One who's legitimacy is accredited to our account, not fraudulently, but lavishly.  Which kind of fraud are you today?

No other gods

It sounds so simple. "You shall have no other gods besides me." The first commandment is not only saying that God is to be preeminent, but we are expected to have no gods beside Him, or next to Him. We know instinctively that "other gods" is not limited to characters like Zeus or Molech, but includes anything and everything that boasts of providing security and confidence. This is why Jesus warned us of a broad idolatry that includes the mundane details of everyday goods. "You cannot serve God and mammon" (Matthew 6:24b). Mammon is an Aramaic word meaning treasure, property, or my favorite, one's pile. Your pile of stuff that secures your well-being and provides comfort. Your insurance policy, running water, dependable vehicle, ski trips, stock-pile of firewood, garden plot, education, bank account, high-school sports, military strength... Your stuff, our stuff, those things that, because of their inherent goodness, subtly vie for equality with God on the throne of your heart. You can't serve both God and stuff. You can't place confidence in both God and stuff. You can't trust your security, future or current, to both God and stuff.

We know this is true, which raises the question: In our advanced society with so much to offer, how do you know with certainty if you are serving God or stuff?

Shattering measuring cups in Jesus' name

Ah, parenthood... it's amazing the things you make us say: "Would you PLEASE stop trying to help in the kitchen and just go play video games with your brothers?" Don't judge me. If you're a parent you've said similar things. But God never says these things to us. He could send legions of angels to proclaim His message flawlessly. He could spring water from dry wells in Africa. He could cure children dying from diarrhea in Haiti. He could rescue 12 year old girls from the sex trade in Ethiopia. But He sends us. Like my two-year-old, we toddle around this big, round kitchen we call Earth and drop glass measuring cups, shattering a would be rescue, or would be salvation, or would be cure, into a million pieces of what could have been. But, somehow it still works. Somehow mercy is shown through the actions of embittered aid workers. Nutrition is provided through scant resources. The Gospel is received from the mouths of hypocrites. Somehow through our weakness He is made strong after all. God invites us holistically with our imperfections, novice experiences, questionable motives, and clumsy actions. But that "somehow" is no mystery at all. He takes our hands into His, like a loving parent compensates for the crude motor skills of a toddler. He tells us what to do, guides our hands as we do it, and with the patience of the ages He lets us grow up in Him. So go ahead and toddle into the kitchen. There is work to do, and He'll use your clumsiness to do it just as He has done through His children from the original breath of life. Ya, you'll drop something and watch it shatter, but He'll clean it up and hand you another one.

1 came back

You never know about transients. With our church building on a major thoroughfare I meet one every other week, even during these brutal Wyoming winter months. Some are obstinate and only want cash, others refuse the benevolence funds managed by the police department. Still others gladly make the trip to the sherif's office only to be arrested for the illegal substances carried on their person (true story). They all have their sob story which usually involves a combination of victimization and unfortunate circumstances, of which they are totally innocent. None of them seem to have a credit card. Almost all of them cause me serious reservation when it comes time to tap into our already strained resources.

Michael was different. "I'm heading East, hoping to start over," was his simple explanation for hitchhiking to KC. No complaints, no stories of misfortune or betrayal. Another church provided a motel room and all he needed now was a meal. I made a call and was able to take care of the immediate need. We talked briefly about Christ. His answers may have been a bit rehearsed, but that is between him and God. I wished him well and didn't think of him again.

This morning I was on the phone and looked up to see him standing there. I fully expected a plea for more food, or bus fare (you may be picking up on the cynicism we pastors battle over these kinds of things). I secretly wanted to stay on the phone and not deal with this, but my call only reached voicemail. I left a message and greeted my guest with contrived compassion. He reached out to shake my hand and said, "Thanks again for the meal. I'm heading South, hoping to avoid some of the colder weather before I start moving East." Bewildered by his gratitude I asked if he needed anything. He said, "God has gotten me this far. I'm still trusting Him. God bless." With that he turned and left me with my thoughts.

I think of the 10 lepers Jesus healed in Luke 17 and how only 1 came back to thank Him. Jesus praises this man's faith. I think of Michael and wonder if his gratitude reveals far more about the condition of his soul than the answers he gave to my questions. I think of the resources we risk on those who say they are in need with no guarantee that they are not criminals or cons. I think if 1 out of 10 is truly grateful it is worth funding the bad habits of the 9. I think of my tendency to grumble (at least inwardly) about what I have and don't have and that uttering a simple "thank you" can radically change all perception.

I am thankful that God brought Michael across the threshold of Grace Fellowship last night, to remind us to give and give cheerfully, and to remind us to be grateful for every good gift that comes down from the Father of lights. I am thankful that Michael's "thank you" gave more to me than I gave to him.

Nuggets, Nativity, and a Hebrew Word

People sometimes refer to poignant statements in Scripture as "nuggets." (The first image that comes to mind is a tub of chicken nuggets, although I am quite confident that the intended reference is gold nuggets.) Reason being, studying Scripture can be like mining for gold - you sometimes have to do a lot of hard work before you stumble onto the things of substance that drew you there in the first place. This sometimes frustrating reality is by Divine design, though I won't get into the reasons why right now. Rather, I want to polish a chicken, er, I mean gold nugget for Christmas.

Micah 6:8 is such a nugget. It is a summary passage, recapping basically the entire corpus of Old Testament theology. In the verses immediately prior a straw-man is built, who argues that he would do anything up to and including sacrificing his own son, if only God would be happy with him. He is begging God to reveal what He expects of humanity because, "I just don't know what God wants from me!" Through the prophet Micah we are reminded of the stunning simplicity of God's already revealed will. "He has already told you, oh man, but you weren't paying attention - do justice, love mercy, walk humbly" (my paraphrase).

Notice, it is all written in the singular - He has shown YOU. YOU do justice. Don't petition Washington for social programs or legislated morality and think you've done your Christian duty. YOU do justice. Care for the poor and sick. Lead with exemplary ethics and morals. Sacrifice, give, teach - from the overflow of your American abundance, YOU do justice.

YOU love mercy. From the Hebrew hesed (No, no, you've got to say the "h" while clearing your throat. Try that again.), which means, as my Hebrew prof taught us, "covenant faithfulness." The meaning of the word goes back to the Abrahamic covenant where God established His unconditional covenant with His fickle people (Genesis 15). We will fail, God will not. Loving this kind of mercy requires more than just resting securely in it. It demands that we act towards others in the same way. YOU love mercy means, treat people with the love of Christ regardless of their response to it or to you.

YOU walk humbly. This is really a prerequisite to the previous two. There is no way we can muster up the courage to do justice, or dig deep enough to love fellow sinners with hesed if we do not continually yield our stubborn will before God's immense wisdom and love.

This is not easy or light, but what a nugget it is! As we approach Christmas we are reminded of the incomprehensible sacrifice of Jesus Christ that far surpasses our concept of justice. God so loved an unlovely world that He was faithful to His promise and actually gave what Micah's straw-man arrogantly accused God of requiring of him. As we gaze on our beautiful nativities we must grapple with the depth of meaning in His lavish display of hesed both in the manger and ultimately on the cross. Let us be reminded throughout this season why walking humbly before our God is such a reasonable thing of Him to ask of us.

He has shown us, oh men and women, what He requires of us, and not just requires, but first gave to us. Let us make this Holiday season an offering of worship in justice, mercy, and humility.

Sin Clog (you know you want to read this one!)

"God never reveals our hearts to discourage us. Convicting us of sin is one of the most profound ways he demonstrates his love for us" (Paul Tripp).

I worked my way through college on the campus maintenance crew. Periodically I would be called to one of the ladies' dorms for a slow shower drain. Inevitably a crowd would gather as I ran an elongated coat hanger down the drain. The girls would gather in closely as I turned the hanger around and around and slowly began to pull it to the surface... I'm not sure what they were anticipating, but by the time the wad of slimy hair, bearing an uncanny resemblance to a cat-sized rat, was resting on their shower floor, there was not a girl in sight. Above the clammer of slamming doors echoing down the hall I would shout "Hey, it's YOUR hair!" Maybe this is why I had to go off campus to find a bride, but that is neither here nor there.

In similar fashion, the Word of God reveals our hearts to us. The contents of hate, lust, and all kinds of evil (Matt 15:19) shouldn't surprise us, but all too often our deceitful heart (Jer 17:9) tells us that our problems must either have originated els-ware, or they aren't so bad after all. Then, rather than standing and dealing with what is revealed we run away screaming like a college girl. Rather than being grateful for the messenger who applied the tool of God's Word to our life we look on him/her with disdain, forgetting that the "clog" came from our own heart.

God, in His rich grace gives us His heart revealing Word. He gives us men and women who love us enough to hold the mirror of God's Word (Jam 1:22-25) in front of our eyes. Every one of us has a nasty hair-ball of sin in there causing a backup of problems in some shape or form. What we choose to do about it is up to us, but I pray we will all remember the kind words of Paul Tripp. "God never reveals our hearts to discourage us. Convicting us of sin is one of the most profound ways he demonstrates his love for us."

When God comes as a maintenance worker will His love for you cause you to stand and face the truth, or will your love for yourself cause you to run away and slam the door?