Christus Vincit! Christus Regnat! Christus Imperat!

(Christ conquers, Christ reigns, Christ commands!)

The Lord is Risen Indeed!

But the truth is that Christ has been raised up, the first in a long legacy of those who are going to leave the cemeteries.

There is a nice symmetry in this: Death initially came by a man, and resurrection from death came by a man. Everybody dies in Adam; everybody comes alive in Christ. But we have to wait our turn: Christ is first, then those with him at his Coming, the grand consummation when, after crushing the opposition, he hands over his kingdom to God the Father. He won't let up until the last enemy is down—and the very last enemy is death! As the psalmist said, "He laid them low, one and all; he walked all over them." When Scripture says that "he walked all over them," it's obvious that he couldn't at the same time be walked on. When everything and everyone is finally under God's rule, the Son will step down, taking his place with everyone else, showing that God's rule is absolutely comprehensive—a perfect ending! (1 Cor 15:20–28, The Message)

And:

Thus it is written, “The first man, Adam, became a living being”; the last Adam became a life-giving spirit. . . . The first man was from the earth, a man of dust; the second man is from heaven. As was the man of dust, so are those who are of the dust; and as is the man of heaven, so are those who are of heaven. Just as we have borne the image of the man of dust, we will also bear the image of the man of heaven. What I am saying, brothers and sisters, is this: flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God, nor does the perishable inherit the imperishable.

Listen, I will tell you a mystery! We will not all die, but we will all be changed . . . (1 Cor 15:45–51, NRSV)

A Hymn to God the Father

i.

Wilt Thou forgive that sin where I begun,
Which was my sin, though it were done before?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin, through which I run,
And do run still, though still I do deplore?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,
For I have more.

ii.

Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I have won
Others to sin, and made my sin their door?
Wilt Thou forgive that sin which I did shun
A year or two, but wallowed in a score?
When Thou hast done, Thou hast not done,
For I have more.

iii.

I have a sin of fear, that when I have spun
My last thread, I shall perish on the shore ;
But swear by Thyself, that at my death Thy Son
Shall shine as he shines now, and heretofore ;
And having done that, Thou hast done ;
I fear no more.

John Donne, 1623

The God of Hosts

They reviled us both together.
I was made wet all over with the blood
Which poured from his side, after he had
Sent forth his spirit. And I underwent
Full many a dire experience on that hill.
I saw the God of hosts stretched grimly out.
Darkness covered the Ruler's corpse with clouds,
His shining beauty; shadows passed across,
Black in the darkness. All creation wept,
Bewailed the King's death; Christ was on the cross.

from "The Dream of the Rood" (or Cross), Anglo-Saxon, ninth century, trans. Richard Hamer.

the Body and the Blood

posted for Brenda D.

The Thursday before Resurrection Sunday Christians all around the world gather around a table to have a meal with Jesus.

This special meal reminds me that God can take our broken lives and make something beautiful for himself. Jesus Christ came, remember, to heal the broken hearted, to set the captives free, to open the bars of those whose lives are in bondage and to restore that which is damaged through the hurt and trauma of life.

Our God is the God of new beginnings. When a human being commits their life to following Jesus Christ the Bible tells us that person is a new creation, the old has gone, the new has come, everything is made new and our God, the miracle maker, can do exactly that for every one who seeks him.

Gathering with his disciples around a table in a small upper room, Jesus took a loaf of bread and He gave thanks to God the Father and He said take it, eat it, in remembrance of me – this is my body. With those same disciples at that same meal Jesus also took a cup of wine and thinking about the blood that He was about to shed for the sins of the whole world on the cross so that we could be forgiven, Jesus said; this is my blood that is poured out for the sins of the whole world – do this in remembrance of me.

This is the God whom we worship this resurrection weekend; our God who is with us, ready to forgive our sins as we confess them, ready to touch our lives as we welcome him. The God of new beginnings!

Come, you weary and restless,
come, all who hunger and thirst.
Jesus calls us to dine as friends,
come, God’s feast of welcome awaits us.

Late Have I Loved You

Late have I loved you, O beauty so ancient and so new. Late have I loved you! You were within me while I have gone outside to seek you. Unlovely myself, I rushed towards all those lovely things you had made. And always you were with me, and I was not with you.

All those beauties kept me far from you—although they would not have existed at all unless they had their being in you.

You called,
   you cried,
      you shattered my deafness.

You sparkled,
   you blazed,
      you drove away my blindness.

You shed your fragrance, and I drew in my breath, and I pant for you. I tasted and now I hunger and thirst. You touched me, and now I burn with a longing for your peace.

—Augustine of Hippo

Let His Blood Be On Us

Posted for Gary Fitzgerald

Yesterday was by far the most dramatically wrenching observance of the Christian liturgical calendar. Christmas is more popular (also cuter, more nostalgic, or more personally painful, depending on your life experiences to date), Easter is more foundational (and so far not nearly as culturally debased as Christmas), but nothing exceeds the heart-rending emotional nosedive of Palm Sunday.

As a group, we are the healthiest, most long-lived, wealthiest, freest, and most secure people who ever walked the earth, so it’s very difficult to imagine the joyful hope that Jesus represented that day as He entered Jerusalem for the last time. It’s very hard to think of our God being silent for 400 years—it’s as if no one had a word or sign from God for all the time Europeans have lived in North America. And it’s even harder to imagine being part of a poor, oppressed society living under foreign occupation in a world crossroads that was universally regarded as a pit of pestilence.

And now, after all this time, all this struggle, Jesus shows up—not as one more charlatan magician with a bag of tricks, but as one who speaks with authority, announcing the Kingdom that is at hand, and confirming His word with healings and miracles so outside anyone’s experience that even the Pharisees are afraid.
 
How great would it be, after generations of frustration and struggle, to suddenly think, “This is the one—finally God has heard us!” What an enormous rush it would be to think, “It’s finally happening, and I was here to see it—now things are going to be great!” And how deeply would it cut, to be part of the crowd that’s screaming “Crucify him” with the same energy it gave to “Hosanna” just a little while ago. 

Although Scripture, and especially the Good News, was always meant to be heard more than read, it has become a long-standing tradition for congregations to take an active part in the reading of the Passion Gospel. We like to do things in threes, so we rotate yearly between Matthew, Mark, and Luke. This year, Year A in the lectionary, we used the Passion of Matthew, the only version which contains this powerful sentence, said by the whole congregation:
 
“Let his blood be on us and on our children.”
 
I believe this is the most explicitly vicious thing in the entire New Testament. I don’t denigrate or belittle the harsh cruelty of crucifixion, but in the cultural context there actually wasn’t anything unusual or unique about it—Jesus wasn’t singled out for special treatment, it was just what the Romans did. But this oath will be part of the Christian story until the end of time, and what a fearful thing to contemplate, being so consumed as to intentionally call down the wrath of God not only on yourself but on your children! And what a thing to have to say together in church—and we do have to say it—fifteen minutes after singing with gusto “All glory, laud, and honor to Thee, Redeemer King!”
 
And then, how incomprehensibly amazing to realize again what has been done for us by Jesus’ sacrifice. No longer a curse or an oath, but the centrality of our life in Jesus:

Please, Lord, let Your blood cover me, and my children! You had a choice, and You made it on my behalf and theirs. Help me to apprehend this more clearly, more deeply and more completely as I contemplate all that Holy Week means for those who know You, and for those who don’t know You yet. For what You did, what You’re doing, and what You’re going to do, deepest heartfelt thanks. Amen.

What do you think about everyday?

We're nearly at the end now. Today is Palm Sunday, the Sunday of the Passion. It's an awkward day, liturgically; I've sometimes thought Palm Sunday deserved its own day. But here it is together: you start with praise and move to Jesus’ death. I guess the church recognizes that it would be inappropriate to jump the Sunday Scripture readings directly from Palm Sunday’s brittle praise straight to Easter’s Resurrection celebration; parishioners who miss the Good Friday service and the readings of the crucifixion would miss just about the whole point.

But keeping Palm and Passion together is useful too. We still hold our palm branches and the echo of our Hosanna still lingers in the air when we come to our part in the Gospel reading, and together we cry “Crucify.”

I heard once that the ashes on Ash Wednesday—remember you are dust—are made from the branches from last year's Palm Sunday. If that is so, it is just. We are marked with our limitations, reminded of our need for grace even to make our praises more meaningful than lip service. We need grace to follow Jesus, for the road is harder than we expect, and suffering is part of it.

Praise offered from our own strength is as fragile today as was the praise of those in Jerusalem before Jesus’ arrest. I’ve seen enough devastating failures from seemingly devoted Christians over the course of my own life, too, to recognize that praise is only part of being a disciple. Pondering my own heart, I certainly am in no position to feel smug about either type of failure.

But God's grace is greater, and the resurrection of Jesus—and the resurrection promised for us too—is so far beyond our expectation of anything God would do. Yet the cost . . . We do well not to jump too fast to next week's joy. We do well to slow down this week, to pay attention, to watch and pray, to own up to the brittleness of our good deeds and the depth of our shortcomings, to our limitations and our need for God to intervene for us.

In the past two days, Mark and Tyler both mentioned the concept of attention—in part, paying attention to God as a way of becoming more fully human. Earlier this week, a blog I follow from the creators of a web software package I use touched on the same theme in a post somewhat outside the normal line of “business.” The author is not at this point, so far as I know, a follower of Jesus, but his post puts into words a concept I've been pondering this Lenten season, and his story will be helpful for us to ponder.

Telling a story about his seven-year-old son, who collects coins (read it all; it's short and memorable), he concludes:

You become what you think about all day long.

If we want to really achieve something, we can learn a lot from a seven year old who has never read books on setting goals, or attended success workshops, or watched motivational videos. He simply intuitively understands that the secret to success is to focus on your goal. Every moment.

What is your goal as a follower of Jesus? Are you getting to the point where you would back up your praise of him with a courageous stand for him? Are you coming to think and act like him? Is his life transforming yours?

What do you think about all day? Each season? The liturgy is a gift that can help us focus. This week in particular the church asks us to focus on the cost Jesus paid for the life you can now have. Let’s pay attention.

Lenten Attention

I grew up as the oldest child in an evangelical home where I absorbed the idea that being good and doing things right was what life was about, what faith is about. I got the idea that I could “get it right,” should “get it right,” and that others—if they had half a brain and willingness to try—could “get it right” too.

It’s a long walk out of darkness.

One of my favorite “tutors” is Eugene Peterson and his earthy grasp of life, God, and faith. A favorite quote of his is “The assumption of spirituality is that God is always doing something before I know it. So the task is not to get God to do something I think needs to be done, but to become aware of what God is already doing so that I can respond to it and participate in it and take delight in it.” (Interview with editor of Christianity Today)

Here’s the key: God is doing something—not me, not something I have to generate or work up. I can become aware and then respond, participate, and delight in it. That’s a reversal of my natural approach. Generally I’ve got to figure out what to do and then do it. Hopefully God will come along . . . and if I’m lucky he may even be pleased.

Listen to how Peterson renders the very familiar Romans 12 passage in The Message:

1 So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life—your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life—and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. 2 Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it. Unlike the culture around you, always dragging you down to its level of immaturity, God brings the best out of you, develops well-formed maturity in you. 3 I'm speaking to you out of deep gratitude for all that God has given me, and especially as I have responsibilities in relation to you. Living then, as every one of you does, in pure grace, it's important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you. The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what he does for us, not by what we are and what we do for him.

It feels different than what I used to see there: you take your life, you give it to him, don’t you be conformed, don’t you think highly of yourself.

No, instead I begin to see: God helping, embracing what God is doing, God brings the best out of you, God does it all, what God is, what He does . . .

There is something of me needed, attention to all of Him . . . yielding, joining . . .

As I become thrilled with Him, and God brings this too in me . . . I discover a by-product . . . I am being released . . .

How we become human

Nothing has taught me so much about God as having my own children. Living, breathing analogies to our relationship with him are with us all day long.

So. I am sitting on the couch next to Daniel, now 4 months old. I am not usually home on a Friday morning and haven’t had much time to spend with him since last weekend, so I am enjoying just being with my son as I prop him up, “sitting” in the corner of the couch against a pillow, smiling at him, looking into his eyes, saying things in the voice reserved only for babies. And he smiles back! Why? Obviously he doesn’t “know” in any verbal sense who we are or that we love him. And it occurs to me for the thousandth time that someone once did the same for me, and this is how we become human.

Another human gives us their person, their attention, and by a process mysterious and almost completely opaque to scientific investigation we become persons. (Or to be more precise, we become much more psychically healthy persons than we would be otherwise.) And all this comes through love, which in turn comes through the five senses, and perhaps something beyond the senses—the soul. The baby grows happy and healthy and ready to deal with the world by the love it receives through being warm, fed, hearing mommy’s and daddy’s voice, and being seen by them—and in many other ways and with other people.

I can’t help but think that Jesus helped his own disciples become like him through the same way. Through his presence. In uncountable ways, many of them confounding, confusing, and apparently crazy, God’s love came through and changed them. Verbally and non-verbally, I bet. How can you become like someone if you’re not with them? If only I had enough of his presence to disciple a person like that—but I have enough trouble being a reasonable husband and dad 24x7!

I know I need to be in his presence more. For he is also drawing us out into personhood through love. But I can’t literally be held in my Father’s arms and get that kind of attention I give Daniel.

But perhaps God is giving me even more, something even better. Perhaps with faith and holy imagination I can experience it.

I can ask. And I am encouraged by remembering our Lord’s teaching that that through faith all things are possible, and that if a son asks his father for bread, he will not give him a stone.

Choices, control, chaos – Part 1 ½

Last week I posted on this same topic, and referenced an article which asked women about success and satisfaction and peace. Apparently women want: time, balance, control and purpose. I spent some time on the first three, but ran out of space and energy before really attacking the fourth: purpose.

So, how does that relate to the title of this post? I think that when we try to control our lives, by making “right” choices, but without having a firm foundation of purpose, the result will not be control, but chaos.

We can all think of examples of such a thing, both from a negative (college student deliberately getting drunk in order to fulfill a perceived need for “relationships”, resulting in a chaotic life) and from a theoretically positive (woman gets very involved in church because she wants to have more “meaning”, and just gets busier and more chaotic) viewpoint. In both situations, the person is trying to control some aspect of their life by making deliberate choices. And we can come up with many other examples, probably. And most of us have also probably been guilty of such actions, both positive and negative. Even if we make objectively good choices, often our lives still spin out of control.

The problem with control, as mentioned in the previous post, is that we actually don’t have any. Much, if not most, of the time, we cannot even control our own behavior, much less our thoughts, MUCH less the behavior and thoughts of others. And we certainly can’t control outside forces. And so, if we are desperately trying to make our lives better by just our actions and will, we will fail. And then we will be disappointed. And then we will be hurt. And maybe angry. And maybe bitter. And our lives will remain chaotic.

There is a reason that the first several steps of AA are 1) admitting powerlessness over problems in life; 2) believing that God has the answer; 3) making the decision to turn one’s life over to God.

That is the foundation that we need: God – and believing that He wants a personal relationship with us. If the purpose of our life is to be in close communion with God, and to seek His face with all our heart, it becomes easier and easier to practice that Third Step: daily turning one’s life over to God. Then the choices we make will become more in line with His will for our lives, not our will. The more that we are focused on the Relationship, the less we will feel the need to control our lives. And, although the outcome might not be what we thought that we wanted, it will be what we needed.

Gosh, rereading this, it sounds very pat, and almost trite. But it isn’t. What we need is Him, and more and more of Him every day. We need that more than we need a spouse, a promotion, extra money, a house, or any of the other things that we want, and therefore think we need.*

Father God, let us each seek Your face more every day, and help us learn what it means to truly turn our lives over to you. Amen.

* I am reminded of the words of that famous theologian, Mick Jagger. C’mon now, sing with me: “You can’t always get what you want (etc.). But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need.”

Check, please.

In the spirit of the injunction to “read, mark, learn, and inwardly digest” the Scriptures, and what the point of it all is:

Whoever, then, thinks that he understands the Holy Scriptures, or any part of them, but puts such an interpretation upon them as does not tend to build up this twofold love of God and our neighbor, does not yet understand them as he ought. . . .

But sight shall displace faith; and hope shall be swallowed up in that perfect bliss to which we shall come: love, on the other hand, shall wax greater when these others fail. For if we love by faith that which as yet we see not, how much more shall we love it when we begin to see! And if we love by hope that which as yet we have not reached, how much more shall we love it when we reach it! For there is this great difference between things temporal and things eternal, that a temporal object is valued more before we possess it, and begins to prove worthless the moment we attain it, because it does not satisfy the soul, which has its only true and sure resting-place in eternity: an eternal object, on the other hand, is loved with greater ardor when it is in possession than while it is still an object of desire, for no one in his longing for it can set a higher value on it than really belongs to it, so as to think it comparatively worthless when he finds it of less value than he thought; on the contrary, however high the value any man may set upon it when he is on his way to possess it, he will find it, when it comes into his possession, of higher value still. (Augustine, On Christian Doctrine, I.36, 38)

I Want It All, and I Want It Now

I am so often amazed at the way God uses the many and varied elements of the life I was going to have anyway to inform and change the life I’m going to have soon. At least, He is offering me these opportunities for improvement; it’s my responsibility to decide that they are for me, apprehend them as completely as I can, and make them part of my current fabric as best as I’m able. Why I’m amazed at this I don’t know, because He’s just being God—the God I find in Scripture, and the God Who has revealed Himself to me so far.

This past weekend COA hosted a conference which featured a guest worship team, some teaching via DVD’s, and extended times of prayer ministry in which everyone had the opportunity to ask God for anything they thought they needed. As often happens, God seemed to be weaving a consistent thread through all the ministry times, in the midst of such a great range and depth of needs. The constant message seemed to be: “Ask and you shall receive, but sometimes you have to ask with a depth of passion, a desperate hunger and thirst that might at first seem unnatural.”

The Collect for this past Sunday (Lent V), a prayer near the beginning of the service which everyone says together and I suspect most people do as a duty to be disposed of, invites God to bring our desires into His order so that our hearts may be fixed—stuck fast to, permanently attached—where true joys are to be found.

One of our young people gave a testimony of unusual power at both the weekend services. The core of it was that he had decided that the Saturday night ministry time was not going to pass by without God’s very definitive, sovereign, and supernatural touch. He was sure that this was in line with what God wanted, based on the teaching that day, so he asked with increasing urgency and desperation, but great amounts of time went by with no apparent answer. Finally, when everyone else was long done and he was the only one left in the room, God spoke the words he longed to hear through the voice of one of our most persevering and caring adult leaders. In paraphrase, His word was “Your longing and deep heart’s-cry are pleasing to Me; I have a plan, I’m filling you even now, and never will I leave you.”

There is a song being used as background music for a commercial about buying a new TV set. The entirety of the lyrics being used are “I want it all (repeat 3x), and I want it now.” We are—I am—SO this way, and this demanding, give-it-to-me-because-I want-it-and-I-deserve-it is SO not what God is about. Everything in our culture points to that song as a good thing; “customer service” is measured not in quality but in time—how fast did you respond? “How quickly” is WAY more important than “how fully?”. God is not like that—longing and desire PLEASE Him (although grabby self-absorption does not), and time is just not an issue for Him in the way it is for us. That’s hard to get, but that’s how He is, and I think it better that I change for Him than that He change for me.

Father God, You’re the only one that can change me enough to want what You want me to want. If You offer this grace and I receive it willingly, then obeying You will be an act of love, and receiving anything You give me will be my greatest desire. I know the time will come when my heart is turned permanently to You; make it soon, please. I know that’s what You want for me, so Father, that’s what I want, too. Change me, move in me, fill me with You, so that this is all I will ever want. Thank you in advance. Amen.

(a paraphrase of the Collect for the Fifth Sunday of Lent, from the Book of Common Prayer, 1979)

A Life of Worship

“Worship is actually a gift from God to us, more than one of ours to Him.” —Jack Hayford (Manifest Presence)

We heard a young man’s beautiful testimony Saturday evening about his hunger for an encounter with the Holy Spirit—a burning passion, a heart crying out for “more, Lord, more . . .” His words describe my same yearning. We have just finished an entire weekend full of praise, worship, and prayer, and yet I’m so desperately hungry for more . . .

Stormie Omartian says in The Prayer That Changes Everything that

“our greatest blessing comes when we take the focus off of ourselves and put it entirely on God in worship and praise. Isn’t it just like our wonderful Lord to make something that is all about Him be the thing that blesses us the most when we do it?”

I’m a high school math teacher (although some don’t think that statistics is really math). This year as winter approached I was assigned bus duty at school. I was supposed to go out in the freezing cold, in the dark, and be sure that every bus arrived before school started. So, I had to go count buses? And, if a bus didn’t get there, wouldn’t the bus driver call someone and tell them so? Why did I have to do this task?

My first assigned day came and I bundled all up, got a big ol’ blanket, and made myself comfy sitting on the concrete sidewalk as I started counting buses. Then the Lord said to me: “Pray for these buses—full of my little lambs.” He gave me an amazing opportunity for three mornings to pray for nearly every student who went into Lake Braddock—each bus, each student who walked up from the parking lot. I was blessed every day as I did that bus duty—as I waved and prayed and oh, yes, as I counted every bus. I started thinking that maybe I should volunteer to do it every day for the rest of the year . . .

That same yearning for His blessing . . .

Omartian continues in her book:

“God intends worship to restore us, fill us, motivate us, bless us, and fulfill us in ways we never dreamed possible. There are certain blessings that He wants to give us that will only come into our lives as we worship Him.”

I have always thought that worship only meant singing love songs to God. I see now, that it really means loving Him while doing everything.

Holding or Taking Hold

I’ve been reading my favorite C.S. Lewis book with my daughter. The Great Divorce. The title has nothing directly to do with marriage but rather the “distance” between Heaven and Hell. The story is a fanciful trip from the edge of Hell up to visit the edge of Heaven. The edge of Hell is a twilight place where it is growing darker. Since no one gets along well they move further and further apart to avoid the quarreling, cursing, and tussling. Materially they can have anything they want just by imagining it, but it has no real substance. Most have houses but the rain penetrates right through ceilings and walls, making them only useful for a false sense of safety. Safety from some unnamed, fearful thing that is coming.

Upon arrival at the edge of heaven they find themselves to be ghosts who are not yet solid enough to participate in heaven yet. They are embarrassed and frustrated by the inability to feel comfortable and move about easily. Solid folks from deeper heaven have come to meet with each of the ghosts to see if they will stay and become more solid as they enter into heaven.

All of the ghosts face obstacles that have to do with what they demand or cling to for meaning and purpose. A mother’s love, self-respect, ambition, rights, grumbling, materialism, cynicism—some are almost convincing and would even appear noble in the right context. But they must be willing to give up all in order to enter into the vast wild wonder of heaven. Sadly, many do not and opt to return to the twilight world that soon will be dark.

My daughter asks “how can do you give it all up, how do you do that?” How indeed. . . .

One of the last stories is of an oily looking ghost with a little red lizard on his shoulder that keeps whispering things in his ear. The ghost tries hard to make the lizard shut up, as its “stuff won’t do here,” but as he cannot he says he will just return to the twilight place. When a light-filled being asks if he may kill it, the ghost finds all manner of excuses to try to avoid that, saying how unnecessary it is. In the end the ghost is certain he will die, yet with a terrified scream lets the angel kill it. The man is completely transformed to a glorious new person, and the dead lizard is brought back as a powerful stallion to carry him swiftly far up into heaven.

One of the things Lewis grasps so vividly is how desperate and terrible the struggle is to yield what seems completely necessary. And how marvelous the freedom and glory when we do.

Last week Daryl Fenton challenged us:

“No one can decide for you; that regenerated spirit within you can chose to cooperate with the Holy Spirit or can chose to ignore Him. . . . And you’re either going to say, ‘I want to join the mission, I want to be in the front lines, I will, in fact, support the work going forward, in prayer. I’ll beg the Lord and the Holy Spirit to fall like fire on this place, and I’ll keep doing it until He listens and I’m willing to make any change in my life He requires of me so that it might be accomplished. I’m prepared to sacrifice things for the joy that lays before me just like Hebrews says Jesus did.’”

“Have you asked the Spirit to empower you, and is Jesus the master, Lord of the universe who redeemed you from both sin and death—are you awestruck in his presence? And as such are you prepared to persuade others about him, to spend your life seeking to please him because you’d rather live for him than live for you?”

Thursday night on a DVD Randy Clark asked “What do you want (really want) and what are you willing to risk to grasp it?” The Lord is holding out the fullness of the Kingdom to us.

Under the Mercy . . .

Choices, control, chaos

I read a recent article that mentioned a recent survey of “hundreds” of women in the U.S. which asked “How do you define success in your life? What would give you a sense of satisfaction and peace?”

I was intrigued. I am now part of the “mommysphere,” but not so long ago I was a single professional woman on a career track as a litigator following in the path, and on the coattails, of a very well respected attorney. So I follow the discussion of “what women want” with some interest.

The women who participated in the survey were all employed, both married and single, kids and no kids. So, I thought, this is a pretty good cross-section of the “working woman” though severely lacking in representation of women who are not employed outside the home. I began to be less intrigued.

The article went on the say that the survey results were not surprising: “The things we most desire in our lives are the things that always seem to lie outside our grasp.” DUH! They needed a survey to figure that out? Isn’t that the state of being of all humans, when we dwell in the “unredeemed” parts of ourselves? Don’t we have a sense of dissatisfaction if we are focused on “me”?

Ok, back to the survey. Apparently this survey suggested that women value four principles which are the “keys to satisfaction and contentment”: time, balance, control, and purpose. Again, no surprise there. (They could have paid me the money they paid to organize the survey and I think I would have told them the same thing.)

But it got me thinking. We always want more time; time for play, time for reflection, time for sleep, time for God. We rarely, except when a deadline is looming, long for more time at work. But God gave us all 24 hours in each day; therefore He must believe that we can/should accomplish all we need to in that period of time. However, we jam-pack so many things into our day that we feel like we are never done.

The result of all that “jam-packing” is that we all yearn for “balance,” the second of the principles mentioned above. For women it is often balancing career and children (having them, mostly); for men, career and family (spending time with them). But the thought of “balance” has permeated throughout our world. Parents speak of trying to find the balance for their children between extra-curricular activities and down-time. And certainly we are advised to eat a balanced diet.

Of course, finding this balance requires that next value, control. Things in our world don’t balance on their own, they need our help to become that way. Or so we think. Control is also a ubiquitous “value.” Most of the time we feel better if we feel like we control some aspect of our lives. As Christians, we realize that we shouldn’t control anything, although we have choices. If we leave the controlling to God, and put ourselves in His hands, then we can move onto the next “value.”

Purpose. That is a heavy sounding word, isn’t it? Purpose. And in the greater Christian community in this country, the word purpose is tied to Rick Warren’s book. There is still importance in looking at the concept, apart from just his book. Because he was onto something. Our lives mean nothing if we have no purpose other than ourselves. Some people might think of purpose as meaning “having a goal.” Because I am not a goal-directed person, I like to think of purpose as a “deeper meaning.”

What is the deeper meaning of my life? I like the Westminster Shorter Catechism: “Man’s chief end is to glorify God, and to enjoy him forever.” I am trying to spend time this Lenten season finding time and space in my life to worship and glorify God as part of my every day life. I suspect that I will have more time, balance, control (ish), and purpose if I do that.

What is Pride?

St. Augustine on pride:

"Pride is the craving for undeserved glory. And this is undeserved glory: when the soul abandons the One it should cling to for sufficiency and becomes self-reliant.

"This happens when the soul is satisfied with itself. It falls away from the unchangeable good that would satisfy it more than itself. And this falling away is spontaneous.

"For the will should remain in love with the higher, changeless good that illumines it to intelligence and kindles it into love. Then it wouldn't become so dark and cold by turning to find satisfaction in itself.

"We didn't fall so far away that we became absolutely nothing. Instead, by turning toward ourselves, our souls became more secluded than when we clung to the Supreme One. Similarly, to exist in oneself, that is, to be one's own satisfaction after abandoning God, isn't to become a nobody. But, the holy Scriptures designate another name to proud people: 'self-pleasers.'

"Therefore, it is good to lift up the heart. But it isn't good to lift it up to oneself; that is pride. It is good only to lift our hearts up to the Lord, for that is obedience and humility."

—St. Augustine, from City of God, 14.3.

New Beginnings: Part II

So I'm writing this from my new dorm room in Toronto. So far, things are looking good and God is giving me the grace to make it through the day somewhat intact. I do feel a bit anxious about being in a new place, but all in all, God continues to sustain me.

Earlier this evening, we had a fantastic time of worship and introduction. We talked about how this time was a time of transplantation. This is, of course, very literal in my case, but what areas of our lives do we need to let God dig up and plant somewhere new? There are dying, shriveled little seeds that just need to be exposed to a little son-shine in order for them to blossom and grow into the fullness of God's appointed purpose. I think part of Lent is about recognizing those areas and giving God permission to transplant them. Sometimes our ideas and our desires that never seem to get anywhere are good, it's just that they just aren't firmly rooted in God's love. Will you allow Him to transplant your withered parts to the rich soil of His love?

Well, I'm very tired and need some rest. Love and blessings to all those back home.

Knock that door down

Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him, and will dine with him, and he with Me. (Rev 3:20 NAS77)

I've been taught that we should look at the context of a verse to better understand its meaning and how to apply it to our lives. Verse 3:20 of Revelation is near the end of Jesus words for the churches at Ephesis, Smyrna, Pergamum, Thyatira, Sardis, Philadelphia, Laodicia. He is speaking to the believers of the age and offering them encouragement, counsel and correction. The final verses of chapter 3 seem to summarize Jesus words for all the churches:

Those whom I [dearly and tenderly] love, I tell their faults and convict and convince and reprove and chasten. So be enthusiastic and repent (changing your mind and attitude). (20) Behold, I stand at the door and knock; if anyone hears My voice and opens the door, I will come in to him and will eat with him, and he [will eat] with Me. (21) He who overcomes, I will grant him to sit beside Me on My throne, as I Myself overcame and sat down beside My Father on His throne. (22) He who is able to hear, let him listen to and heed what the [Holy] Spirit says to the churches. (Rev 3:19-22 AMP)

I understood why Jesus came to earth to die for my sins about fifteen years ago when I gave my life to Him. I received an amazing gift that, for most of my life, I didn't understand. I realized I needed a savior and accepted Him. But I was a saved Christian who felt like I was alone and still had to make my way through life the best I could. Now that I was saved, it felt like my life got a little harder because I was working my way through the world with more regulations and an even higher standard of living than I had before I was saved. Now I had to live according to the rules of the world (succeed in business, be a good husband, be a good friend) with an added burden of being a Christian (don't even think thoughts of lust, anger, revenge). I began to question what it was, exactly, that I was saved from.

Then I grew to understand that His work didn't stop at salvation, even though that was an amazing and unbelievable thing in and of itself. After a few more years, I realized that I needed continuous help as I walked through life. I remember my first powerful encounter with the Holy Spirit during a shuttle flight between Dulles and Newark Airport. My job had me on that flight at least three times a month at that time and I was feeling very spent and broken. I had determined that I was going to work at this job for ten more years and I would be able to retire with a full pension. Ten more years here and I would be on the gravy train, relaxing on the beaches of Barbados or wherever I felt like relaxing.

But this ten years was beginning to feel like a life sentence. Just a few weeks earlier, I had been offered a job at a small startup company. I wasn't sure what to do; whether to stay on my ten-year retirement track or to risk it all and go for this small company and a whole lot of uncertainty. The little plane was taxiing down the runway and just as the pilot applied throttle for takeoff, I started to pray. This was really the first time I had prayed in my life without having any idea what to do. I was completely at a loss and truly and completely wanted to know what path I should take. As the little turboprop shuddered and hopped off the runway into the air, I prayed to God, "Which job should I take?"

I gave God two options—my current job or this new one. In my mind's eye, I saw a picture of Jesus and me walking along a wooded path, hand in hand. I felt such peace; a peace I hadn't ever felt before. It was absolutely wonderful. We continued to walk, but I couldn't help but wonder what this had to do with my question.

Anyway, as we walked, we came to a fork in the path that, if we continued on as we were, would lead Jesus on the left and me on the right. I kept holding his hand but we quickly started to walk in different directions. Just before I lost my grip on his hands, I heard Him say—"I want you to spend more time with me." My honest and first reaction was—right, but what does that have to do with my question?

As I reclined in my terribly uncomfortable seat, I began to realize that the source of all my anxiety and pain wasn't about the job or which job to take, it was that I wasn't spending time with Him. I wasn't depending on Him as he wants me to. I wasn't seeking Him in my life.

After many examples like this in my life, I am starting to understand what Jesus meant when He said, I must go now, but I am not leaving you as orphans. Jesus didn't leave us alone and without a heavenly parent. His going was necessary for us all to receive the Holy Spirit, the Comforter, the Counselor.

This was a watershed event in my relationship with Jesus and the Holy Spirit. But I don't hold on to it. I tend to close that door after a while and fall back into my old patterns of dealing with life as if I were an orphan again. When my wife and I were afraid that she might have rabies, we immediately felt fear and anxiety. My wife, within minutes of hearing the news that the first rabies test was inconclusive and actually seemed positive, immediately started to call and email for prayer. She flung the door open and Jesus stepped in. Then Jesus, through his saints on earth, comforted, counseled, and encouraged us so much that we weren't concerned about the test results. We knew that He would be able to take us through anything.

During this Lenten season, may we refuse to live our lives as orphans again. If we feel ourselves slipping into old habits, remember that he is right outside the door. Patiently, lovingly, persistently knocking; gently tapping, hoping that we open the door and let him in. When I do, it is wonderful. I pray that we all learn to never close that door. We are the ones who close it, not Him. May we knock the door down, break off the hinges, and let Him be your Comforter, Counselor, Father, Brother, and Friend.

John and Charles Enter into Heaven

When I was asked to contribute to this daily series, I said it would be an honor—which it is—and that I would be glad to take whatever day of the week I was assigned. Obviously I preferred some days more than others, but I also decided that in the spirit of a season of increased discipline I would accept my assignment as from the Lord and do my timely best whatever the minor inconvenience. As it turned out, providing Monday’s contribution has been an unexpected blessing in a number of ways, not least of which has been the Kalendar—a couple of weeks ago Martin Luther fell on “my” day, and in the week of Lent IV it is the observance of the amazing lives of John and Charles Wesley.

They were the fifteenth and eighteenth children (probably nothing special here—their mother Susannah was the 24th of 24 children) of the Reverend Samuel Wesley, Rector of Epworth, accomplished poet and hymn writer, most of whose output was lost in a fire at Epworth. However great the fortunes of Reverend Sam (and I think these were not so much), the environment into which John and Charles were born meant that the interests of the oldest children took precedence. Even today we have a tendency to give more attention, if not more honor, to the eldest child, and “back in the day” this kind of discrimination was considered to be good, right, and in the normal order of things. So neither John nor Charles would have felt ill-used for being expected to do for themselves, and no one else would have given it a thought.

The value of both the spiritual life and the life of the mind were priorities through many generations of Wesleys, but we know little or nothing about any of the other children of Sam and Sue, including the many older siblings of John and Charles. This isn’t to belittle them—I’m sure they were all good people and contributors to their communities—but to lift up that much more the significant and lasting accomplishments of both John and Charles. I believe it would be fair to say that their enduring legacies continue to touch every branch of the Christian faith, and the real significance for me is that fame and legacy were never their slightest concern. Rather, for John and Charles, "doing for themselves" simply meant that their entire lives were spent in the service of their Lord. They were raised to know in the deepest way what God had already said and done, and their hearts and minds were prepared and ready when God chose to use them. John never set out to create a denomination; Charles never intended to be one of history’s most prolific and well-known hymn writers. They just put their minds, hearts, souls, and strengths into doing what God asked of them, and the results have been a lasting blessing for generations of Christians.

No one can imagine what the final transition actually looks and feels like, but it’s easy to create the scene called “John and Charles Enter into Heaven.” Their greatest concern would be that they hadn’t finished, hadn’t done enough, hadn’t been all they might have been. And the Lord would put His arms on their shoulders and say what we all long to hear: “Well done, good and faithful servants.”

Father God, I can’t be them, or anything like it, but I can be more like them. Their diligence, perseverance, and obedience to Your leading are my desire, but these aren’t my most noticeable character traits. That means that what could be, isn’t, and that’s a choice I’ve made. So I thank You, Father, for all the second chances You give me. Right now, this minute, let me feel You changing me so that diligence, perseverance, and obedience become more than desires. Let these things become realities in me, more and more, so that I can be who You want me to be, more and more. Thank you in advance. Amen.

Jesus suffered with us and for us

As we reflect on His suffering this Lent, consider those who suffer in His Name today.

The situation of Christians in Iran is getting extremely difficult and large numbers are leaving the country. It seems the authorities are happy for Christians to leave, glad for their country to move towards being purely Muslim. However, the apparent strategy for dealing with Christians from a Muslim background is not to let them emigrate but to put pressure on them to make them return to Islam. The Iranian authorities infiltrate churches and threaten and blackmail individual members as well as the leadership. Pray that each Christian in Iran will know the Lord’s presence and guidance every moment of the day.

A new way of harassing Christians has been seen recently in Jakarta, the capital of Indonesia, in a case where Muslim doctors refused to treat Christian patients. This was apparently because the doctors were intimidated by Islamic extremists. Only quarter of a century ago Indonesia was an inspirational example of harmony and equality between Christians and Muslims. Pray that the moderate Muslim majority will resist the pressure from extremists to be hostile to Christians, and will restore the good relations of a generation ago.

When an Italian newspaper listed Algeria among Muslim countries where Christians are oppressed, Algeria’s Religious Affairs Ministry responded, “Christians in Algeria enjoy greater rights and liberties than do Muslims in Christian countries.” The ministry also asserted that the new Algerian law which allows a prison sentence for anyone trying to convert a Muslim to another religion was in accordance with international conventions. From 2000 to 2006 the situation of Christians in Algeria was remarkably good, but things have now deteriorated. Pray for a quick return to freedom and equality.

Jesus suffered with us and for us. As we reflect on His suffering this Lent, consider those who suffer in His Name today.

No one is free when others are oppressed. Author unknown.

Seek to receive grace

A quote for today. Daryl Fenton, who will be preaching this weekend and leading the Lenten Quiet Day, has recommended Dallas Willard's book Renovation of the Heart, so here is a quote from Willard on spiritual formation and the requirement for us to engage our minds and wills to obey Christ:

We must stop using the fact that we cannot earn grace (whether for justification or for sanctification) as an excuse for not energetically seeking to receive grace. Having been found by God, we then become seekers of ever fuller life in him. Grace is opposed to earning, but not to effort. The realities of Christian spiritual formation are that we will not be transformed "into his likeness" by more information, or by infusions, inspirations, or ministrations alone. Though all of these have an important place, they never suffice, and reliance upon them alone explains the now common failure of committed Christians to rise much above a certain level of decency.

At the core of the human being is will, spirit, and heart. This core is reshaped, opening out to the reshaping of the whole life, only by engagement. First, engagement is to act with Christ in his example and his commands: "If you love me, keep my commands," he said, "and I will ask the Father to send you another strengthener, the Spirit of truth" (John 14:15-17). The engagement must come first, followed by the helper insofar as obedience is concerned; as we try, fail, and learn, we engage with the spiritual disciplines. We add whole-life training to trying. We recognize that religious business-as-usual, the recommended routine for a "good" church member, is not enough to meet the need of the human soul. The problem of life is too radical for that to be the solution. We enter into activities that are more suited to our actual life condition and that are adequate to transform the whole self under grace, allowing the intention to live the commands of Christ to pass from will to deed.