On April 15, 1997, Bill Clinton was hobbling around on crutches at Shea Stadium to honor Jackie Robinson 50 years after he broke the color barrier. That was the night that baseball retired the number 42 for all major league teams. At the time, I didn't like that idea. I thought it was politically correct tripe. Now, I think it is a woefully inadequate way to honor a man whose life was cut short by the stress that came with carrying the burden he did.
It was a pleasant evening, a chance to see my Mets on TV, which didn't happen too often considering how bad they'd been for a few years.
Then President Clinton did something that irritated me greatly. He said, "I'm sure that if Jackie were alive today, he'd..." I don't remember how the sentence ended. But Bill Clinton didn't know Jackie Robinson. He had now idea what his thoughts were. He was just appropriating Robinson's name to make his own point.
I hate that.
But, as I write dialog and claim it to be from Jesus, I guess I am doing the same thing. After all, Jesus has been gone for the better part of 2000 years. And, of all the Christians I know, I am probably among the least appropriate to put words in Jesus' mouth.
Still, I think I'm okay with it because, in this case, Jesus is not agreeing with me. In fact, He is convicting me. One of the stories involves interplay between me, Jesus, and my friend Marty, who is a knockout who drives a BMW convertible and happens to be a lesbian. I don't have a friend named Marty who is a lesbian. But if I did, and if she was hot, I suspect I would react the same way as I did in the story. Especially if she drove me around in her BMW convertible.
I am reasonably familiar with the Bible, having read it cover to cover five or six different times. I have taken part in some pretty deep conversations about Jesus with people who are learned, have a deep relationship with Him or both. In short, unless I felt called to do this, I wouldn't do it.
Putting words in Jesus' mouth is a dangerous thing to do unless you know what you are doing. I think what I am doing is obeying. I hope the words that my fingers have Jesus saying are helpful and not hurtful.
Still, if you read them and find me to be full of crap, please let me know.
Friday, December 31, 2004
Jesus, Marty, and Me go to Dinner
Later, after another round and some more talk, Marty, Jesus, and I decided to stay and have dinner. Logan's has excellent steak and some of the best dinner rolls on God's green earth. So we got a booth for three. Marty sat next to Jesus, which disappointed me. In spite of what Jesus said, I really did like Marty, and it wasn't just so I could show how tolerant I was or because she looked hot in form-fitting clothes. I wanted her to sit next to me because she looked hot in form-fitting clothes. And also because I was afraid that I had damaged our friendship.
I excused myself for a minute, then went to the men's room. When I got back, Marty smiled at Jesus, then excused herself.
"It's not all about you," Jesus said.
"Huh?"
"Is it possible that the reason you are here with her isn't for you; it's for her?"
"What are you talking about?" I said.
"She has a lot of questions, Chris. I care about her deeply, as I know you do. She needs to work some things through."
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that she's been hurt by a lot of Christians," he said.
"Look, I'm sorry," I said. I wasn't sure whether it was good practice to get irritated with Jesus in public, but given his ability to respond to what I was thinking, I didn't see the point in trying to hide it.
"Yes, including your attitude, which I am certain you will work on. But how do you think she feels when a church that touts how I died for their sin and how they are now loved denies her because of her sin?"
I said nothing, so Jesus continued.
"How would you feel if you were involved in a high school prank and someone turned you in and you were punished, but the guy who turned you in had previously vandalized the football field?"
Again, I said nothing.
"She doesn't believe in me."
"No offense, but I'm not sure that Jesus is going to return as the assistant manager of a multiplex, either."
"You know what I mean," Jesus said. "She is tough and she won't let people see it. But underneath, she knows that a lot of the people here would not let her be her if they knew the truth. Even though she doesn't make an issue of it, she knows she has to be careful of it."
I picked at my steak, which is uncommon for me. Usually, it is gone with a force that requires young children to be tethered to their tables, lest they get caught in the vacuum. I preferred the vacuum.
"What do you think of her lifesty...choic...whatever is the appropriate term?"
"Of her homosexuality?"
"Yeah."
Usually, I am articulate. Jesus had a way of making me unsure of my words, which is stupid, because he seemed to know what I was thinking.
"What do you think I think?" He asked. It was a typical non-answer answer, I was coming to find.
"I don't know," I said. "That's why I am asking you."
"That's a copout. You think that it's a sin, but that you are called to love each other," he said. "Which is a good enough answer."
"But I'm not asking what I think. I am asking what you think. And you are not answering the question."
"Not answering is an answer," Jesus said. "To be blunt about it, it's none of your business. It is for her to work out with My Father."
He chewed on a french fry.
"As I said, it isn't about you. Your job is to love her."
"My job is to love everyone," I said. I sipped at my beer. I had a slight buzz, which made me happy that Marty was driving me home.
"You make it sound like a death sentence," Jesus said.
"It isn't easy," I said. "A lot of Your people really hack me off."
"I can assure you that for some of them, the feeling is mutual."
He was smiling at me, this man who claimed to be Jesus. Jesus was supposed to have long hair and a moustache and beard and look like Dave Dennison, the guy I worked with in a small supermarket when I was in high school. He was supposed to wear sandals and a robe. And he wasn't supposed to drink draft beer at a steakhouse after work.
He looked at me and shook his head again, almost imperceptibly.
"You have to love them, that's true. You have to be happy for them when they succeed and sad for them when they hurt. You need to offer to help them and not take gratuitous shots at them," he said. "But you don't have to like them. If they caused you pain, you don't have to pretend that pain doesn't exist. That wouldn't be love from my Father, to expect that. You have real pain, just like Marty and everyone else. And you won't get better by pretending it isn't there."
He sliced a triangle off his steak and ate it.
"They have great steak here," He said. "Do you understand what I am saying?"
"I don't know, am I doing what you are saying?"
"No one does it perfectly, and you aren't among the league leaders, but you're a lot better than you were. Overall, I am not unhappy with your progress."
Just then, Marty came back. Jesus smiled at her and raised his hand, touching her back as she slid into the seat next to him.
"Stupid Bucs," she said. She shook her head and was visibly annoyed.
"Can't you make them win?" she asked Jesus.
"I could," he said. "But I wouldn't hold my breath about it."
She laughed and touched his arm. Jesus was right about her. There was always a reserve about her, as if she were holding something back. I hadn't noticed it until now, but it was always there. Only just for a second, when she touched his arm, it was gone. Her smile was physically the same as it was every other time I'd seen it--and she smiled a lot. But there was something about her body, a lightness, that had never been there before. As soon as it was there, though, it was gone, and for a few seconds, I thought it might be a mirage.
Then Jesus looked me directly in the eye with an intensity that almost made me look away. For an instant, I thought He was angry at me again. But somehow, I thought He was telling me to go likewise and do the same. But that He would give me the tools to do it.
I excused myself for a minute, then went to the men's room. When I got back, Marty smiled at Jesus, then excused herself.
"It's not all about you," Jesus said.
"Huh?"
"Is it possible that the reason you are here with her isn't for you; it's for her?"
"What are you talking about?" I said.
"She has a lot of questions, Chris. I care about her deeply, as I know you do. She needs to work some things through."
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that she's been hurt by a lot of Christians," he said.
"Look, I'm sorry," I said. I wasn't sure whether it was good practice to get irritated with Jesus in public, but given his ability to respond to what I was thinking, I didn't see the point in trying to hide it.
"Yes, including your attitude, which I am certain you will work on. But how do you think she feels when a church that touts how I died for their sin and how they are now loved denies her because of her sin?"
I said nothing, so Jesus continued.
"How would you feel if you were involved in a high school prank and someone turned you in and you were punished, but the guy who turned you in had previously vandalized the football field?"
Again, I said nothing.
"She doesn't believe in me."
"No offense, but I'm not sure that Jesus is going to return as the assistant manager of a multiplex, either."
"You know what I mean," Jesus said. "She is tough and she won't let people see it. But underneath, she knows that a lot of the people here would not let her be her if they knew the truth. Even though she doesn't make an issue of it, she knows she has to be careful of it."
I picked at my steak, which is uncommon for me. Usually, it is gone with a force that requires young children to be tethered to their tables, lest they get caught in the vacuum. I preferred the vacuum.
"What do you think of her lifesty...choic...whatever is the appropriate term?"
"Of her homosexuality?"
"Yeah."
Usually, I am articulate. Jesus had a way of making me unsure of my words, which is stupid, because he seemed to know what I was thinking.
"What do you think I think?" He asked. It was a typical non-answer answer, I was coming to find.
"I don't know," I said. "That's why I am asking you."
"That's a copout. You think that it's a sin, but that you are called to love each other," he said. "Which is a good enough answer."
"But I'm not asking what I think. I am asking what you think. And you are not answering the question."
"Not answering is an answer," Jesus said. "To be blunt about it, it's none of your business. It is for her to work out with My Father."
He chewed on a french fry.
"As I said, it isn't about you. Your job is to love her."
"My job is to love everyone," I said. I sipped at my beer. I had a slight buzz, which made me happy that Marty was driving me home.
"You make it sound like a death sentence," Jesus said.
"It isn't easy," I said. "A lot of Your people really hack me off."
"I can assure you that for some of them, the feeling is mutual."
He was smiling at me, this man who claimed to be Jesus. Jesus was supposed to have long hair and a moustache and beard and look like Dave Dennison, the guy I worked with in a small supermarket when I was in high school. He was supposed to wear sandals and a robe. And he wasn't supposed to drink draft beer at a steakhouse after work.
He looked at me and shook his head again, almost imperceptibly.
"You have to love them, that's true. You have to be happy for them when they succeed and sad for them when they hurt. You need to offer to help them and not take gratuitous shots at them," he said. "But you don't have to like them. If they caused you pain, you don't have to pretend that pain doesn't exist. That wouldn't be love from my Father, to expect that. You have real pain, just like Marty and everyone else. And you won't get better by pretending it isn't there."
He sliced a triangle off his steak and ate it.
"They have great steak here," He said. "Do you understand what I am saying?"
"I don't know, am I doing what you are saying?"
"No one does it perfectly, and you aren't among the league leaders, but you're a lot better than you were. Overall, I am not unhappy with your progress."
Just then, Marty came back. Jesus smiled at her and raised his hand, touching her back as she slid into the seat next to him.
"Stupid Bucs," she said. She shook her head and was visibly annoyed.
"Can't you make them win?" she asked Jesus.
"I could," he said. "But I wouldn't hold my breath about it."
She laughed and touched his arm. Jesus was right about her. There was always a reserve about her, as if she were holding something back. I hadn't noticed it until now, but it was always there. Only just for a second, when she touched his arm, it was gone. Her smile was physically the same as it was every other time I'd seen it--and she smiled a lot. But there was something about her body, a lightness, that had never been there before. As soon as it was there, though, it was gone, and for a few seconds, I thought it might be a mirage.
Then Jesus looked me directly in the eye with an intensity that almost made me look away. For an instant, I thought He was angry at me again. But somehow, I thought He was telling me to go likewise and do the same. But that He would give me the tools to do it.
My friend Marty and Jesus
My friend Marty drives a silver BMW convertible with a black convertible top. She bought it with a very large bonus she got for saving her company approximately $253,000 by consolidating vendors. It was used when she got it, but it was still a Beemer ragtop, which is something she'd been after since she'd been old enough to want a car.
Marty was short for Martina, which she'd dropped in junior high school because of the sexual proclivities of a certain famous namesake that had dominated women's professional tennis for about a million and a half years. It was ironic, because Marty's life changed the first time she kissed another girl. And it had never changed back. She was not currently with someone, but that was only because her previous relationship had ended poorly and she wasn't quite ready for the risk.
I took Marty to Logan's the other night to meet Jesus. I liked going places with Marty because she typically dressed in form-fitting clothes and had the body for it. She wasn't petite; in fact, she called herself full-bodied. But she wasn't even remotely fat. In fact, she is an absolute knock-out, a body made for something other than saving procurement money for a worldwide insurance company.
Tonight she wore form-fitting jeans and a tight, white t-shirt with an open neck. She looked great and every guy in the place knew it. And every guy in the place looked at me with appropriate reverence. They didn't know that I had as much shot at her as I had at, say, Ingrid Bergman.
Jesus was wearing jeans and a Mike Alstott t-shirt that featured a characture of him with the words "Pound the Rock" on its front. Alstott's arms were bigger than Barry Bonds'...by a lot. He was drinking Coors Lite out of a frosted mug.
"Chris," he said. "Come in. Sit down."
"Jesus," I said, haltingly. I wasn't sure that my Lord and Savior would actually call someone a rugrat, as he had done the day before. "This is my friend Marty."
He stuck his hand out and Marty extended hers, haltingly.
"Chris says that you are Jesus."
"That's my name, yes."
"Marty is a lesbian," I said.
"How nice for her," he said, "and for you."
She smiled at Jesus a little uncomfortably, then at me, with askance.
"Jesus told me He had a problem with my stance on gays."
"So that is why you brought me to meet him?"
"No, I did that...well...okay, I guess so. Yeah."
She glared at me.
"That is why I have a problem with him, you see," Jesus said. "He doesn't hate gays, and wouldn't even hate them if I gave him permission to."
"Well, that's not bad," I said.
"No," he said, "it's not. But how do you feel right now, Marty?"
"Well, I feel a little awkward, I guess."
"Un-huh," he said. "Chris, let me ask you a question. Do you find Marty to be...desireable?"
"Well, I mean, she's my friend and she's a lesbian and..."
"Just answer the question."
"Yeah, she's hot," I said. "I mean, look at her. She's a knockout."
"She is sitting here right now," Marty said. I glanced over at her. She looked irritated at me. And confused by Jesus.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Is that why you brought her here? To show me how tolerant you are?"
"Yeah," she said. "Is that why?"
I sort of shrugged a little and prayed that the bartender would come to ask us what we wanted. Jesus looked at me and shook his head almost inperceptibly.
"Uh, okay. I was an idiot. But I mean,...awww, dammit."
Jesus looked at Marty, then at me.
"Marty are you offended by the fact that he finds you attractive?"
"No. I am flattered by it."
"Does he hold your lesbianism against you?"
"Not at all."
"So why are you irritated with him?" Jesus said.
"Because I am Marty, his lesbian friend, not just Marty his friend," she said.
The bartender came and took our orders. She had Shiraz; I had a Michelob Lite. Jesus passed.
"I have to drive," he said.
She picked up her Shiraz and sipped it.
"Be nice if there was popcorn," she said.
"Jesus doesn't do popcorn," I said. I know; I'd asked the day before at the movies.
She smiled. I was married, but her smile could melt my heart on a regular basis. I realized who I was sitting next to, or thought I was sitting next to, and my melted heart sank. If it hadn't been unseemly, I would have plucked my eye out on the spot.
"Do you understand now why I had a problem?" Jesus asked.
"I think so," I said.
"It has nothing to do with plucking your eye out. Marty has a desirable body and you are wired to notice it. You also understand that you are married and that all you can do is look and you usually stop short of imagining."
Marty looked at me and I looked down. I was beginning to not enjoy Jesus' company.
"Marty, why do you like him?"
"Because he is a person with a soft heart and he tries to do the right thing."
"Why does he like you?"
"I think because he isn't a bigot if he does."
It hurt me when I said that. It hurt me because it hurt her. And it hurt me because it pointed out a place where I was a failure.
"Yeah," Jesus said in response to my unasked question. "That's how Peter felt."
Marty was short for Martina, which she'd dropped in junior high school because of the sexual proclivities of a certain famous namesake that had dominated women's professional tennis for about a million and a half years. It was ironic, because Marty's life changed the first time she kissed another girl. And it had never changed back. She was not currently with someone, but that was only because her previous relationship had ended poorly and she wasn't quite ready for the risk.
I took Marty to Logan's the other night to meet Jesus. I liked going places with Marty because she typically dressed in form-fitting clothes and had the body for it. She wasn't petite; in fact, she called herself full-bodied. But she wasn't even remotely fat. In fact, she is an absolute knock-out, a body made for something other than saving procurement money for a worldwide insurance company.
Tonight she wore form-fitting jeans and a tight, white t-shirt with an open neck. She looked great and every guy in the place knew it. And every guy in the place looked at me with appropriate reverence. They didn't know that I had as much shot at her as I had at, say, Ingrid Bergman.
Jesus was wearing jeans and a Mike Alstott t-shirt that featured a characture of him with the words "Pound the Rock" on its front. Alstott's arms were bigger than Barry Bonds'...by a lot. He was drinking Coors Lite out of a frosted mug.
"Chris," he said. "Come in. Sit down."
"Jesus," I said, haltingly. I wasn't sure that my Lord and Savior would actually call someone a rugrat, as he had done the day before. "This is my friend Marty."
He stuck his hand out and Marty extended hers, haltingly.
"Chris says that you are Jesus."
"That's my name, yes."
"Marty is a lesbian," I said.
"How nice for her," he said, "and for you."
She smiled at Jesus a little uncomfortably, then at me, with askance.
"Jesus told me He had a problem with my stance on gays."
"So that is why you brought me to meet him?"
"No, I did that...well...okay, I guess so. Yeah."
She glared at me.
"That is why I have a problem with him, you see," Jesus said. "He doesn't hate gays, and wouldn't even hate them if I gave him permission to."
"Well, that's not bad," I said.
"No," he said, "it's not. But how do you feel right now, Marty?"
"Well, I feel a little awkward, I guess."
"Un-huh," he said. "Chris, let me ask you a question. Do you find Marty to be...desireable?"
"Well, I mean, she's my friend and she's a lesbian and..."
"Just answer the question."
"Yeah, she's hot," I said. "I mean, look at her. She's a knockout."
"She is sitting here right now," Marty said. I glanced over at her. She looked irritated at me. And confused by Jesus.
"I'm sorry," I said.
"Is that why you brought her here? To show me how tolerant you are?"
"Yeah," she said. "Is that why?"
I sort of shrugged a little and prayed that the bartender would come to ask us what we wanted. Jesus looked at me and shook his head almost inperceptibly.
"Uh, okay. I was an idiot. But I mean,...awww, dammit."
Jesus looked at Marty, then at me.
"Marty are you offended by the fact that he finds you attractive?"
"No. I am flattered by it."
"Does he hold your lesbianism against you?"
"Not at all."
"So why are you irritated with him?" Jesus said.
"Because I am Marty, his lesbian friend, not just Marty his friend," she said.
The bartender came and took our orders. She had Shiraz; I had a Michelob Lite. Jesus passed.
"I have to drive," he said.
She picked up her Shiraz and sipped it.
"Be nice if there was popcorn," she said.
"Jesus doesn't do popcorn," I said. I know; I'd asked the day before at the movies.
She smiled. I was married, but her smile could melt my heart on a regular basis. I realized who I was sitting next to, or thought I was sitting next to, and my melted heart sank. If it hadn't been unseemly, I would have plucked my eye out on the spot.
"Do you understand now why I had a problem?" Jesus asked.
"I think so," I said.
"It has nothing to do with plucking your eye out. Marty has a desirable body and you are wired to notice it. You also understand that you are married and that all you can do is look and you usually stop short of imagining."
Marty looked at me and I looked down. I was beginning to not enjoy Jesus' company.
"Marty, why do you like him?"
"Because he is a person with a soft heart and he tries to do the right thing."
"Why does he like you?"
"I think because he isn't a bigot if he does."
It hurt me when I said that. It hurt me because it hurt her. And it hurt me because it pointed out a place where I was a failure.
"Yeah," Jesus said in response to my unasked question. "That's how Peter felt."
The Yankees' Coming Nightmare
Assuming Randy Johnson and everyone else involved in his trade pass their physicals, in 2005, the New York Yankees will spend $64 million on their five starting pitchers. Rumor has it that they could also add Carlos Beltran to their lineup in the next few days. If that happens, their total payroll will likely be more than $220 million (all of which would, of course, be better used helping the victims of the tsunami).
The array of talent will be the greatest ever on a single ballclub and they could win 115 games next year. Or they could go through a nightmare scenario like none seen in New York since last October.
A pitching staff of Johnson, Mike Mussina, Kevin Brown, Carl Pavano, and Jaret Wright would have been unstoppable in 1997. It might be unstoppable now, too. But it might not be. It might be simply old. Randy Johnson will be 42 next year. He has pitched more than 200 innings every year but one since 1996. But two years ago, he pitched just 114 innings and won just six games.
Mussina just turned 36 and had arm troubles that limited him to 164 innings and a 4.59 ERA. Kevin Brown turns 40 in March. He pitched just 122 innings and had an ERA of more than 4. Pavano had a big year last year, but he's 29 and has won more than ten games in a year only twice. And Wright had a great season last year, winning 15 with the Braves, but he has a lifetime ERA of 5.09. If everything goes right with this rotation, it could win 80 games or more on its own. If not, it could win 35.
Mariano Rivera was human down the stretch. Middle relief is always iffy. The Yankees middle staff has been awesome, but middle relief is an iffy proposition at best.
As for the starting lineup, it is incredible, even without Beltran. But it was incredible last year, too, and the year before that. In fact, it has been since the mid 90s. And in no year since 2000 has it been good enough to win a World Series. The problem with the Yankees is that Steinbrenner's first rule is that anything less than a World Series win might as well be a total loss.
Last year, after the Yankees got Alex Rodriguez, they were supposed to be automatic World Series champions. This winter, it is the Red Sox who celebrate. Next winter, it might be the Yankees. But then again, it might not be.
The array of talent will be the greatest ever on a single ballclub and they could win 115 games next year. Or they could go through a nightmare scenario like none seen in New York since last October.
A pitching staff of Johnson, Mike Mussina, Kevin Brown, Carl Pavano, and Jaret Wright would have been unstoppable in 1997. It might be unstoppable now, too. But it might not be. It might be simply old. Randy Johnson will be 42 next year. He has pitched more than 200 innings every year but one since 1996. But two years ago, he pitched just 114 innings and won just six games.
Mussina just turned 36 and had arm troubles that limited him to 164 innings and a 4.59 ERA. Kevin Brown turns 40 in March. He pitched just 122 innings and had an ERA of more than 4. Pavano had a big year last year, but he's 29 and has won more than ten games in a year only twice. And Wright had a great season last year, winning 15 with the Braves, but he has a lifetime ERA of 5.09. If everything goes right with this rotation, it could win 80 games or more on its own. If not, it could win 35.
Mariano Rivera was human down the stretch. Middle relief is always iffy. The Yankees middle staff has been awesome, but middle relief is an iffy proposition at best.
As for the starting lineup, it is incredible, even without Beltran. But it was incredible last year, too, and the year before that. In fact, it has been since the mid 90s. And in no year since 2000 has it been good enough to win a World Series. The problem with the Yankees is that Steinbrenner's first rule is that anything less than a World Series win might as well be a total loss.
Last year, after the Yankees got Alex Rodriguez, they were supposed to be automatic World Series champions. This winter, it is the Red Sox who celebrate. Next winter, it might be the Yankees. But then again, it might not be.
Thursday, December 30, 2004
My encounter with Jesus
Jesus returned yesterday. Actually, he's been here for quite some time, but he's just now starting his public ministry. He's been working as an assistant manager at the AMC theaters next to the Veteran's Expressway in Tampa. He's also known to hang out after work at Logan's Road House in front of the theater and enjoy two-for-one beers during happy hour with his friends Jaime, Johan, and Andrew.
Yesterday, after we took the kids to see Fat Albert, Jesus was taking his break and decided to speak with me.
"Chris," he said, "I need to speak with you."
"Who the hell are you?" I responded respectfully.
"I am Jesus, your personal Lord and savior and I have come again."
"I would have expected something different than a retail job," I said.
"But I am in management," he said. "And if this works out, I might be able to get the manager's job at the new Muvico theaters over in new Tampa."
"Good luck on that," I said.
"I appreciate that," he said, "but I am concerned and a little upset with you."
When my Lord and personal savior tells me he is upset with something I am doing, it merits attention.
"Can you get me a discount on popcorn and Cokes?" I asked. "I mean, after all, the markups on that stuff are as vile as the gouging that took place outside the temple. And you got pretty upset about that."
He sighed.
"Right, but the moneychangers were gouging people who were trying to worship my Father. Unless you count Mel Gibson's movie, that isn't the case here. Besides, didn't you see that study from the Center for Science in the Public Interest that said how bad popcorn was for you?"
"Yeah, but I figured after I ate all that crap, you could just heal me."
"Okay, now we have two things to talk about, but that will have to wait. I'm not going to heal you just so you can get away with gorging yourself on junkfood."
"Killjoy."
He sighed again. I didn't want to piss Jesus off, so I kept my mouth shut. On ocassion, I can now manage to do that.
"I want to talk to you about your politics," He said.
"Okay, what about them?"
"Well," he said, pausing dramatically, "they're just wrong. I mean, they aren't what a follower of mine should be. I think you need to rethink your positions."
"What do you mean?"
"Take homosexuality for instance. I'm not happy with your thoughts on that. Or the death penalty or tax policy or any of that stuff, really. When I shed my blood for you, it wasn't so that you could be stupid about your politics."
"But I thought your grace was a gift freely given to anyone who asked for it."
He sighed again. And glanced over at the ticket window. There was a line starting to form and there was only one person working the window. Apparently, being an assistant manager meant that you had to help out, even on your breaks.
"I don't have time to completely tell you where you are wrong, but trust me, you need to rethink what you think. And pretty soon, too."
"Why the hurry?"
He mulled that. I wouldn't have figured that the Son of Man would need to spend a lot of time thinking about something. I sort of figured he already knew it.
"Trust me on this, sooner is better than later. When you are here in Florida, you can go inside and turn on the air conditioner when it is hot. That isn't the case everywhere."
"Were you happy with who I voted for?" I asked.
"Have I said nothing to you? That guy is going straight to hell because of his political stances."
"But what if He truly believes that He is following you? I mean the catechism clearly says that we are to inform ourselves and then pray and make the decision on our own."
"Well, yeah, but only if you come to the right decision. You haven't. So, Me and My Dad have had a talk about you and you need to shape up. Now."
He glanced over again and saw that the line was continuing to build. Apparently someone had brought all the children in their neighborhood to the movie.
"Damn little rugrats," He said. "I have never seen destruction like they can do to a clean theater. Not even in Sodom and Gemorah. It's amazing."
He walked away from me.
"You think about what I said," He said. I said I would. What else could I say. It would be rude to lie to Jesus. "I would like to speak with you at some point about your position on the war in Iraq. There is only one appropriate position and you haven't taken it."
With that, he opened the door to the ticket booth and disappeared. I drank my Coke, which now tasted funny. I guess in concern about my health, he had turned my Coke into Diet Coke.
Yesterday, after we took the kids to see Fat Albert, Jesus was taking his break and decided to speak with me.
"Chris," he said, "I need to speak with you."
"Who the hell are you?" I responded respectfully.
"I am Jesus, your personal Lord and savior and I have come again."
"I would have expected something different than a retail job," I said.
"But I am in management," he said. "And if this works out, I might be able to get the manager's job at the new Muvico theaters over in new Tampa."
"Good luck on that," I said.
"I appreciate that," he said, "but I am concerned and a little upset with you."
When my Lord and personal savior tells me he is upset with something I am doing, it merits attention.
"Can you get me a discount on popcorn and Cokes?" I asked. "I mean, after all, the markups on that stuff are as vile as the gouging that took place outside the temple. And you got pretty upset about that."
He sighed.
"Right, but the moneychangers were gouging people who were trying to worship my Father. Unless you count Mel Gibson's movie, that isn't the case here. Besides, didn't you see that study from the Center for Science in the Public Interest that said how bad popcorn was for you?"
"Yeah, but I figured after I ate all that crap, you could just heal me."
"Okay, now we have two things to talk about, but that will have to wait. I'm not going to heal you just so you can get away with gorging yourself on junkfood."
"Killjoy."
He sighed again. I didn't want to piss Jesus off, so I kept my mouth shut. On ocassion, I can now manage to do that.
"I want to talk to you about your politics," He said.
"Okay, what about them?"
"Well," he said, pausing dramatically, "they're just wrong. I mean, they aren't what a follower of mine should be. I think you need to rethink your positions."
"What do you mean?"
"Take homosexuality for instance. I'm not happy with your thoughts on that. Or the death penalty or tax policy or any of that stuff, really. When I shed my blood for you, it wasn't so that you could be stupid about your politics."
"But I thought your grace was a gift freely given to anyone who asked for it."
He sighed again. And glanced over at the ticket window. There was a line starting to form and there was only one person working the window. Apparently, being an assistant manager meant that you had to help out, even on your breaks.
"I don't have time to completely tell you where you are wrong, but trust me, you need to rethink what you think. And pretty soon, too."
"Why the hurry?"
He mulled that. I wouldn't have figured that the Son of Man would need to spend a lot of time thinking about something. I sort of figured he already knew it.
"Trust me on this, sooner is better than later. When you are here in Florida, you can go inside and turn on the air conditioner when it is hot. That isn't the case everywhere."
"Were you happy with who I voted for?" I asked.
"Have I said nothing to you? That guy is going straight to hell because of his political stances."
"But what if He truly believes that He is following you? I mean the catechism clearly says that we are to inform ourselves and then pray and make the decision on our own."
"Well, yeah, but only if you come to the right decision. You haven't. So, Me and My Dad have had a talk about you and you need to shape up. Now."
He glanced over again and saw that the line was continuing to build. Apparently someone had brought all the children in their neighborhood to the movie.
"Damn little rugrats," He said. "I have never seen destruction like they can do to a clean theater. Not even in Sodom and Gemorah. It's amazing."
He walked away from me.
"You think about what I said," He said. I said I would. What else could I say. It would be rude to lie to Jesus. "I would like to speak with you at some point about your position on the war in Iraq. There is only one appropriate position and you haven't taken it."
With that, he opened the door to the ticket booth and disappeared. I drank my Coke, which now tasted funny. I guess in concern about my health, he had turned my Coke into Diet Coke.
Bashing Bush over the Tsunami
The growing concensus is that George W. Bush doesn't care about the poor, dark-skinned peoples who were devastated by the tsumani. For one thing, he went on vacation. Second, even though we pledged more money than any other country and hundreds of times more than France, we are miserly with our wealth, which reflects the greed that Bush epitomizes. Third, Bush is spending $40 million on his inauguration (most of it from private sources). If he cared, he would chuck it all and get a bag of pork rinds and a six-pack of Coke and give all the money to relief efforts.
So basically, Bush would personally make the lives of the afflicted better by not taking a vacation. I suppose that if I cared, I should cancel my vacation as well. Then again, so should all the people who are home this week with nothing better to do than opine on this topic.
As far as the money goes, we will probably wind up sending around a billion dollars, not counting the private donations that we are already sending.
Finally, if Bush were to cancel the inauguration at this point, the very same people who are criticizing him for holding it would then criticize him for how he is ruining all the small businesses that will wind up without the work they thought they would have. Exposes would run discussing how Bush could have pumped $40 million into the DC economy, which is incidentally, dominated by African-Americans, but he chose not to, primarily so he could make a pittance of a donation. The donation would be little more than a publicity stunt anyway, especially when compared to the amount of money being spent on the war in Iraq.
Overall, this is little more than sour grapes from people for whom this is a giant chess game. No matter what Bush does, he should have done something different. Once senses disappointment that there's no way to blame him for the tsunamis themselves.
The only thing more absurd would be the lament that Pedro Martinez's salary should also go over there. After all, he shouldn't make $53 million and the people over there really need it...
So basically, Bush would personally make the lives of the afflicted better by not taking a vacation. I suppose that if I cared, I should cancel my vacation as well. Then again, so should all the people who are home this week with nothing better to do than opine on this topic.
As far as the money goes, we will probably wind up sending around a billion dollars, not counting the private donations that we are already sending.
Finally, if Bush were to cancel the inauguration at this point, the very same people who are criticizing him for holding it would then criticize him for how he is ruining all the small businesses that will wind up without the work they thought they would have. Exposes would run discussing how Bush could have pumped $40 million into the DC economy, which is incidentally, dominated by African-Americans, but he chose not to, primarily so he could make a pittance of a donation. The donation would be little more than a publicity stunt anyway, especially when compared to the amount of money being spent on the war in Iraq.
Overall, this is little more than sour grapes from people for whom this is a giant chess game. No matter what Bush does, he should have done something different. Once senses disappointment that there's no way to blame him for the tsunamis themselves.
The only thing more absurd would be the lament that Pedro Martinez's salary should also go over there. After all, he shouldn't make $53 million and the people over there really need it...
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Condemnation
It was a fresh meat in a pool of phiranas, a link to a story that indicated that a tsunami warning could have been issued to the areas hardest hit, but was cancelled in deference to the tourism industry.
The link was to an article in the Swedish online newspaper Expressen and did not appear in English. It was translated by someone named CLiss and referenced--but did not seem to link to--an article in the Bankok online newspaper The Nation (not to be confused with the American magazine of the same name). A brief search of The Nation's website did not indicated that a warning was cancelled.
That didn't stop a torrent of criticism at the greed involved in cancelling the warning. Everyone assumed it was true and assumed the worst. The fact that the message board was hard left wing didn't matter. I've seen (and participated in) the same reaction at far more moderate forums. In a lot of cases, I'm right. In some cases, information I find out later shows me that I was not only wrong, but needless caused pain for the object(s) of my scorn.
We live in a judgemental environment. Talk radio, columnists, muckraking authors, and others of the like all make money. After all, it's no fun listening to someone calling for cool heads until the facts roll in. It's more fun getting the adrenalin running and screaming and feeling that as bad as I might be, I am at least better than.
That's one thing when it is Jim Rome barking about Jets quarterback Chad Pennington, who has a running feud going with the New York media. No matter that Pennington is still in his 20s and many of the people criticizing him for his reaction would have similar reactions when they are criticized. Pennington gets paid a lot of money to play football and that's part of the reason why.
It is quite another thing when the object of scorn is someone thrust into the spotlight unexpectedly or worse yet, someone who has unpleasantly bumped up against us as we go through life.
Anne Coulter has a best-selling book called How to Talk to a Liberal (If you must). I will admit that I have not read the book, though I probably should. But the title puts me off. I believe that as a conservative, I must talk to liberals. Conservatives aren't always right. In fact, many of the liberals I know are far better people than I am. I learn from them.
But in the culture of instant condemnation, such learning opportunities are becoming less and less common. Instead, our existence turns into an echo chamber, making our own views more rigid and inflexible. And our appetite for condemning what we disagree with increases.
If someone completely understood the tsunami warning, and if that person cancelled it, and if the reason for the cancellation was the fact that it would have cost companies money, then that person deserves servere criticism. But that's a lot of ifs to deal with. And even if all of those ifs are true, that person deserves the same right to redemption.
There is a Biblical passage that says that the measure you use will be used against you. Many of those who are most vocal in condemnation will someday understand the cost of their actions. They will know first hand. I'm not sure that the price of such poetic justice is a thing I would wish on anyone.
The link was to an article in the Swedish online newspaper Expressen and did not appear in English. It was translated by someone named CLiss and referenced--but did not seem to link to--an article in the Bankok online newspaper The Nation (not to be confused with the American magazine of the same name). A brief search of The Nation's website did not indicated that a warning was cancelled.
That didn't stop a torrent of criticism at the greed involved in cancelling the warning. Everyone assumed it was true and assumed the worst. The fact that the message board was hard left wing didn't matter. I've seen (and participated in) the same reaction at far more moderate forums. In a lot of cases, I'm right. In some cases, information I find out later shows me that I was not only wrong, but needless caused pain for the object(s) of my scorn.
We live in a judgemental environment. Talk radio, columnists, muckraking authors, and others of the like all make money. After all, it's no fun listening to someone calling for cool heads until the facts roll in. It's more fun getting the adrenalin running and screaming and feeling that as bad as I might be, I am at least better than
That's one thing when it is Jim Rome barking about Jets quarterback Chad Pennington, who has a running feud going with the New York media. No matter that Pennington is still in his 20s and many of the people criticizing him for his reaction would have similar reactions when they are criticized. Pennington gets paid a lot of money to play football and that's part of the reason why.
It is quite another thing when the object of scorn is someone thrust into the spotlight unexpectedly or worse yet, someone who has unpleasantly bumped up against us as we go through life.
Anne Coulter has a best-selling book called How to Talk to a Liberal (If you must). I will admit that I have not read the book, though I probably should. But the title puts me off. I believe that as a conservative, I must talk to liberals. Conservatives aren't always right. In fact, many of the liberals I know are far better people than I am. I learn from them.
But in the culture of instant condemnation, such learning opportunities are becoming less and less common. Instead, our existence turns into an echo chamber, making our own views more rigid and inflexible. And our appetite for condemning what we disagree with increases.
If someone completely understood the tsunami warning, and if that person cancelled it, and if the reason for the cancellation was the fact that it would have cost companies money, then that person deserves servere criticism. But that's a lot of ifs to deal with. And even if all of those ifs are true, that person deserves the same right to redemption.
There is a Biblical passage that says that the measure you use will be used against you. Many of those who are most vocal in condemnation will someday understand the cost of their actions. They will know first hand. I'm not sure that the price of such poetic justice is a thing I would wish on anyone.
Tuesday, December 28, 2004
A Personal Relationship with God Isn't Enough
Where to send donations for those hit by the tsunami.
I spend a lot of time working on my personal relationship with God. Which is good, because I am better when I am closer to Him than when I am not. But then, just as I think I have it figured out and am on the right track, something happens.
This time, what happened is that 44,000 people have died in a giant tsunami. The devastation is beyond imagining. And it proves how truly insignificant our little struggles and wars are. Here am I, employed, relatively safe and security, surrounded by a family that loves me and that I do a pretty good job of loving. I have friends and a lot of support. What right have I to be secure or to spend time watching the SciFi Channel and doing any of the other stupid, meaningless things I do on a daily basis?
This year here in Florida, we thought we knew devastation. Certainly, the four hurricanes we experienced are more than your typical bad day. But we have, for the most part, running water and places to go to escape the problems. Even those who couldn't get help from FEMA have options.
What of the people on the islands who were swamped by the wall of death the other day? They don't have FEMA or homeowners insurance. They don't have the luxury of worrying about work or whether so-and-so likes them. Hell has reached up and paid them a personal visit.
Given the level of material goods we have, how can we do less than at least send money? How can we do less than pray and care and add to that with something tangible?
That having been said, everyone can't give to every worthy cause. I could hop on a jet and spend the next six months helping them to rebuild, but then who would be a father to my family? Who would help lead my son's Cub Scout pack? Who would do whatever it is I am going to do for my daughter's swim team? These are not feel-good rationalizations; they are ministries that God has, at least for now, asked me to carry out.
But most people can give more radically than they do. I am sitting here listening to $90 worth of NFL Films music that I asked for for Christmas. As I do, I sort of wish that I hadn't asked for it for myself. There are more important things in the world. I pray that God continues to soften my heart that I might find them and do something better. I am His first, and I have faith that He will give me what I ask.
I spend a lot of time working on my personal relationship with God. Which is good, because I am better when I am closer to Him than when I am not. But then, just as I think I have it figured out and am on the right track, something happens.
This time, what happened is that 44,000 people have died in a giant tsunami. The devastation is beyond imagining. And it proves how truly insignificant our little struggles and wars are. Here am I, employed, relatively safe and security, surrounded by a family that loves me and that I do a pretty good job of loving. I have friends and a lot of support. What right have I to be secure or to spend time watching the SciFi Channel and doing any of the other stupid, meaningless things I do on a daily basis?
This year here in Florida, we thought we knew devastation. Certainly, the four hurricanes we experienced are more than your typical bad day. But we have, for the most part, running water and places to go to escape the problems. Even those who couldn't get help from FEMA have options.
What of the people on the islands who were swamped by the wall of death the other day? They don't have FEMA or homeowners insurance. They don't have the luxury of worrying about work or whether so-and-so likes them. Hell has reached up and paid them a personal visit.
Given the level of material goods we have, how can we do less than at least send money? How can we do less than pray and care and add to that with something tangible?
That having been said, everyone can't give to every worthy cause. I could hop on a jet and spend the next six months helping them to rebuild, but then who would be a father to my family? Who would help lead my son's Cub Scout pack? Who would do whatever it is I am going to do for my daughter's swim team? These are not feel-good rationalizations; they are ministries that God has, at least for now, asked me to carry out.
But most people can give more radically than they do. I am sitting here listening to $90 worth of NFL Films music that I asked for for Christmas. As I do, I sort of wish that I hadn't asked for it for myself. There are more important things in the world. I pray that God continues to soften my heart that I might find them and do something better. I am His first, and I have faith that He will give me what I ask.
Monday, December 27, 2004
Lessons from the Minister of Defense
I had just gotten to the concession stand at the Bucs game yesterday when I heard the news: Reggie White had died unexpectedly at 43 at his home.
It was sad news, to say the least. White was dominant both on and off the field, casting a shadow that matched his huge body that seemed to be built to dominate offensive linemen. According to many, he is the greatest defensive lineman to have ever played in the NFL. Any serious fan would know the plateau you reach when you are considered better than Joe Greene, Deacon Jones, Bruce Smith, and a host of others.
He was also a giant off the field. When he signed with Green Bay, a black man playing football in rural Wisconsin, it was news. In his wake, the Packers have been able to attract many other black free agents they might not have otherwise had a shot at.
An ordained minister since 17, Reggie White was roundly praised yesterday on sports media, from people who knew him and played with him. However, the praise was not universal.
White's first retirement was short-lived. He had signed a contract with CBS Sports, which was voided when he made a series of comments about homosexuals in front of the Wisconsin state legislature. Some were about the Biblical injunctions against homosexuality, but some of his comments, along with others, could be easily construed as going beyond that.
This link from a hard-line left-wing message board lists a number of quotes, some of them rather troublesome, about homosexuality. This link indicates that Reggie White was in the process of taking a second look at many of the things he once thought.
For the record, I happen to think that homosexuality is a sin. If I were God, it might not be, but I'm not and the Bible is pretty clear on this matter. It is also clear that drinking too much is a sin, and so is gluttony, and so is not taking care of widows and orphans. So before I throw stones a gays, I must first throw them at myself.
God loves His children, regardless of who or what they are. His invitation knows no boundaries. And it is His grace that changes us, not our efforts. I am no more entitled to God's voice than a gay person. In some respects, a lot of gay people are probably more Christian than I am.
But that's another discussion for another time.
The thing I respect about Reggie White--a man I never met--is that he had the courage to challenge his core beliefs. And that his faith seems to have become deeper, richer, and more real as a result.
The freedom that God gives us allows us to challenge those base beliefs without worrying about whether God will be pleased. Odds are, He will be. It is only by challenging our own limited understanding of God that we can start to transcend our own understanding and move closer to Him.
Reggie White did that. And for that, assuming that the rest is as it is presented, I admire him greatly.
It was sad news, to say the least. White was dominant both on and off the field, casting a shadow that matched his huge body that seemed to be built to dominate offensive linemen. According to many, he is the greatest defensive lineman to have ever played in the NFL. Any serious fan would know the plateau you reach when you are considered better than Joe Greene, Deacon Jones, Bruce Smith, and a host of others.
He was also a giant off the field. When he signed with Green Bay, a black man playing football in rural Wisconsin, it was news. In his wake, the Packers have been able to attract many other black free agents they might not have otherwise had a shot at.
An ordained minister since 17, Reggie White was roundly praised yesterday on sports media, from people who knew him and played with him. However, the praise was not universal.
White's first retirement was short-lived. He had signed a contract with CBS Sports, which was voided when he made a series of comments about homosexuals in front of the Wisconsin state legislature. Some were about the Biblical injunctions against homosexuality, but some of his comments, along with others, could be easily construed as going beyond that.
This link from a hard-line left-wing message board lists a number of quotes, some of them rather troublesome, about homosexuality. This link indicates that Reggie White was in the process of taking a second look at many of the things he once thought.
For the record, I happen to think that homosexuality is a sin. If I were God, it might not be, but I'm not and the Bible is pretty clear on this matter. It is also clear that drinking too much is a sin, and so is gluttony, and so is not taking care of widows and orphans. So before I throw stones a gays, I must first throw them at myself.
God loves His children, regardless of who or what they are. His invitation knows no boundaries. And it is His grace that changes us, not our efforts. I am no more entitled to God's voice than a gay person. In some respects, a lot of gay people are probably more Christian than I am.
But that's another discussion for another time.
The thing I respect about Reggie White--a man I never met--is that he had the courage to challenge his core beliefs. And that his faith seems to have become deeper, richer, and more real as a result.
The freedom that God gives us allows us to challenge those base beliefs without worrying about whether God will be pleased. Odds are, He will be. It is only by challenging our own limited understanding of God that we can start to transcend our own understanding and move closer to Him.
Reggie White did that. And for that, assuming that the rest is as it is presented, I admire him greatly.
Sunday, December 26, 2004
I didn't get everything I wanted, but I got enough
I didn't get everything I wanted for Christmas, but I got enough. My family, as usual, was in upstate New York and I was down here in Florida. My wife and kids and her parents were here and we are well into have our own holiday traditions and rhythm. But this year I missed everyone more than I usually do.
My aunt and uncle weren't able to be up there either. It's been a tough year for them, health-wise, and even before my uncle got the bug last week, he wasn't up for traveling. It was tough seeing him in October. He was always so robust, but it's all caught up with him and now he has become old.
Christmas is evolutionary most of the time. Each year, the kids get a little older and the wide-eyed overwhelming enthusiasm of toddlers gives way to the youthful greed of childhood, then to a realization that it's at least as important for them to see their teenaged friends as it is for them to be with family. Eventually, they wind up away for a Christmas. But these changes are gradual and you can typically see them coming. I still miss the wide-eyed enthusiasm, but I have two wonderful children and it is still a pleasure to dote on them.
Then you have the revolutionary changes. These can be good...a new family member, either through marriage or birth, or the return of someone who used to live far away. And they can be bad...a broken marriage or a death that leaves a gaping hole.
My grandmother used to be an enormous part of Christmas. Her last Christmas with us was 1998 and we chose that Christmas to be back in upstate New York. I suspect that my mom still has a hard time with certain parts of Christmas because her mother isn't there. Then again, I suspect she probably still misses her father, who has been dead now for almost 35 years.
We had no revolutionary changes this Christmas. In fact, it was the first "normal" Christmas we've had since 2000. In 2001, my family was down and we had more than 20 people in our house Christmas morning. In 2002, my wife had to work Christmas day, as I was laid off and her job got us health insurance. Last year, we were away from home. This year was just us and her parents and her sister.
Everyone was there and well and no one was experiencing life-threatening difficulty. It would have been nice to see my family, too. I didn't get everything I wanted, but I got enough.
The presents were nice, too.
My aunt and uncle weren't able to be up there either. It's been a tough year for them, health-wise, and even before my uncle got the bug last week, he wasn't up for traveling. It was tough seeing him in October. He was always so robust, but it's all caught up with him and now he has become old.
Christmas is evolutionary most of the time. Each year, the kids get a little older and the wide-eyed overwhelming enthusiasm of toddlers gives way to the youthful greed of childhood, then to a realization that it's at least as important for them to see their teenaged friends as it is for them to be with family. Eventually, they wind up away for a Christmas. But these changes are gradual and you can typically see them coming. I still miss the wide-eyed enthusiasm, but I have two wonderful children and it is still a pleasure to dote on them.
Then you have the revolutionary changes. These can be good...a new family member, either through marriage or birth, or the return of someone who used to live far away. And they can be bad...a broken marriage or a death that leaves a gaping hole.
My grandmother used to be an enormous part of Christmas. Her last Christmas with us was 1998 and we chose that Christmas to be back in upstate New York. I suspect that my mom still has a hard time with certain parts of Christmas because her mother isn't there. Then again, I suspect she probably still misses her father, who has been dead now for almost 35 years.
We had no revolutionary changes this Christmas. In fact, it was the first "normal" Christmas we've had since 2000. In 2001, my family was down and we had more than 20 people in our house Christmas morning. In 2002, my wife had to work Christmas day, as I was laid off and her job got us health insurance. Last year, we were away from home. This year was just us and her parents and her sister.
Everyone was there and well and no one was experiencing life-threatening difficulty. It would have been nice to see my family, too. I didn't get everything I wanted, but I got enough.
The presents were nice, too.
Thursday, December 23, 2004
CEOs
We call them CEOs. We aren't mad at them for wrecking Enron. And we don't envy them for their giant paycheck. We see them at Christmas and Easter only.
When I was young in my walk, I scorned them. I mean, if you are only going to come twice a year, why bother? If you aren't willing to put in the work and the time to walk with Jeeesusuh, why take up space that the regulars can use?
Now I am older and I can chuckle and blush at my earlier silliness. Sure there are people who are lazy and shallow and that's why they don't come. And there are people who would rather have bamboo shoots stuff under their nails, but they come because they should because the kids will notice.
If you come out of obligation, why bother? And if you think that your children are going to get their message from the two times that you come, rather than the 52 times you don't come, you are a knucklehead.
It's easy to be arrogant about those kinds of Christians when you have your place to sit each week and all your friends are at church. But God loves those kind of Christians, too.
And then there are those who come because they had a bad time, but they still want to believe...they still want the feeling they imagine comes when Jesus cames and they dare not have hope, but they dare not give up on it, either.
In some cases, their wounds are self-inflicted. And in some cases, they were caused by small, arrogant, and petty Christians. They were caused by Christians who worshipped their worship more than their God and who didn't understand that church isn't for good people, and even if it were, they wouldn't qualify.
Christmas is a Christian holiday (you can tell by looking at the first six letters and how they match). It may have heavily appropriated pagan symbolism, but it is a Christian holiday. And it isn't for the Christians who are there in the same pew every week.
It's for the people who come twice a year, and it is important that they feel welcomed. They came because God invited them.
If I had my way, it is all the regulars who would sit in the overflow seating. The regulars would spend the Mass or Service actively waiting on those who don't regularly attend, and telling them how glad they are that God asked them to come. And asking them to come back next week because they are loved and God misses them when they aren't there.
This year, we are going to Mass on Christmas day. CEOs tend to come on Christmas Eve. That's where the action is, because that's where Jesus is needed and sought after most. The regulars can sometimes take Him for granted.
Next year I want to go on Christmas Eve. I want to get their way early and save seats. And I want to wait until the last minute and then find some family in the overflow seating who hasn't been to church since Easter. And I want to welcome them and tell them that I am glad they are here and God is, too. And I want to tell them that He would be tickled if they would move closer to the front so that they could participate more.
And I want all my churchy friends to do the same thing.
Imagine that.
When I was young in my walk, I scorned them. I mean, if you are only going to come twice a year, why bother? If you aren't willing to put in the work and the time to walk with Jeeesusuh, why take up space that the regulars can use?
Now I am older and I can chuckle and blush at my earlier silliness. Sure there are people who are lazy and shallow and that's why they don't come. And there are people who would rather have bamboo shoots stuff under their nails, but they come because they should because the kids will notice.
If you come out of obligation, why bother? And if you think that your children are going to get their message from the two times that you come, rather than the 52 times you don't come, you are a knucklehead.
It's easy to be arrogant about those kinds of Christians when you have your place to sit each week and all your friends are at church. But God loves those kind of Christians, too.
And then there are those who come because they had a bad time, but they still want to believe...they still want the feeling they imagine comes when Jesus cames and they dare not have hope, but they dare not give up on it, either.
In some cases, their wounds are self-inflicted. And in some cases, they were caused by small, arrogant, and petty Christians. They were caused by Christians who worshipped their worship more than their God and who didn't understand that church isn't for good people, and even if it were, they wouldn't qualify.
Christmas is a Christian holiday (you can tell by looking at the first six letters and how they match). It may have heavily appropriated pagan symbolism, but it is a Christian holiday. And it isn't for the Christians who are there in the same pew every week.
It's for the people who come twice a year, and it is important that they feel welcomed. They came because God invited them.
If I had my way, it is all the regulars who would sit in the overflow seating. The regulars would spend the Mass or Service actively waiting on those who don't regularly attend, and telling them how glad they are that God asked them to come. And asking them to come back next week because they are loved and God misses them when they aren't there.
This year, we are going to Mass on Christmas day. CEOs tend to come on Christmas Eve. That's where the action is, because that's where Jesus is needed and sought after most. The regulars can sometimes take Him for granted.
Next year I want to go on Christmas Eve. I want to get their way early and save seats. And I want to wait until the last minute and then find some family in the overflow seating who hasn't been to church since Easter. And I want to welcome them and tell them that I am glad they are here and God is, too. And I want to tell them that He would be tickled if they would move closer to the front so that they could participate more.
And I want all my churchy friends to do the same thing.
Imagine that.
Wednesday, December 22, 2004
"We're doing the same as normal." "That bad, huh?"
Han was awake and recovering from being frozen in carbon. The hibernation sickness cost him his sight, at least for now.
"How are we doing?" he said.
"Same as normal," Luke said.
"That bad, huh?"
-----
When Jesus came, he came to a teenaged woman, a girl really. She had ridden all night on a donkey to a strange place. She was within days of giving birth and the ride was brutal and uncomfortable. It was sometimes hard to breath normally, sitting up on the donkey, and she had to pee too often, with the weight of the child on her bladder.
Joseph hadn't sent her away, in spite of the fact that the child she carried was not his. But there had been moments when she'd seen doubts in his eyes. Today, she hadn't seen doubts. He'd been kind and patient, mostly. But walking all that way and taking care of her hadn't been easy. He was tired, too.
When they'd arrived, all she wanted to do was to lie down. The days of travel had really done a number on her. But because of the stupid census, all the beds were taken and there was no place for them to sleep.
"Can't you find anyplace?" she demanded, though she knew Joseph couldn't. He looked at her with sadness and compassion and a some fair irritation.
"I'm looking."
They wound up in a barn. It was relatively warm, and if you got past the itchiness of the hay, it wasn't bad. Except for the fact that she was carrying around 25 extra pounds. And sleeping on the floor, and it took her about three and a half minutes to get down there and even longer to get up. And once she got there, she had to pee again.
Finally, she slept.
It wasn't fun being the mother of God. It was not smooth or scripted or easy. It was a page straight out of the Indiana Jones school of project management: "I don't know, I'm making it up as I go."
How much is that like every day life? If only this or that, things would be smoother and it wouldn't be so irritating. But that's the life that God chose to come down and be part of. He could have been born in a palace. He could have waited until now, so He could have heat and indoor plumbing and Pedialyte and ointments for diaper rash.
Instead, He chose then and came to a barn. And struggled. And when he was doing as well as normal, He could probably say "That bad, huh?"
There are as many messages in the Christmas story as there are people who have though about it. But maybe there is room for one more.
If you are struggling at a noble cause... If you wish that--just this once--it would be easy for just a little while... If finding the spit and bailing twine and duct tape required to keep things together one more day takes much energy as doing the work of the day... If you lie down at night exhausted and daunted at the prospect of another day of this tomorrow...
...then you have good company. And though you can't see it, your humble efforts to keep things together just one more day could have profound impact beyond your imagination. Imagine that teenager lying uncomfortably on the barn floor, having to struggle to her feet to pee--again. She couldn't have known.
She couldn't have known the extent to which the object of her discomfort would change the world.
Your efforts are not meaningless, either.
"How are we doing?" he said.
"Same as normal," Luke said.
"That bad, huh?"
-----
When Jesus came, he came to a teenaged woman, a girl really. She had ridden all night on a donkey to a strange place. She was within days of giving birth and the ride was brutal and uncomfortable. It was sometimes hard to breath normally, sitting up on the donkey, and she had to pee too often, with the weight of the child on her bladder.
Joseph hadn't sent her away, in spite of the fact that the child she carried was not his. But there had been moments when she'd seen doubts in his eyes. Today, she hadn't seen doubts. He'd been kind and patient, mostly. But walking all that way and taking care of her hadn't been easy. He was tired, too.
When they'd arrived, all she wanted to do was to lie down. The days of travel had really done a number on her. But because of the stupid census, all the beds were taken and there was no place for them to sleep.
"Can't you find anyplace?" she demanded, though she knew Joseph couldn't. He looked at her with sadness and compassion and a some fair irritation.
"I'm looking."
They wound up in a barn. It was relatively warm, and if you got past the itchiness of the hay, it wasn't bad. Except for the fact that she was carrying around 25 extra pounds. And sleeping on the floor, and it took her about three and a half minutes to get down there and even longer to get up. And once she got there, she had to pee again.
Finally, she slept.
It wasn't fun being the mother of God. It was not smooth or scripted or easy. It was a page straight out of the Indiana Jones school of project management: "I don't know, I'm making it up as I go."
How much is that like every day life? If only this or that, things would be smoother and it wouldn't be so irritating. But that's the life that God chose to come down and be part of. He could have been born in a palace. He could have waited until now, so He could have heat and indoor plumbing and Pedialyte and ointments for diaper rash.
Instead, He chose then and came to a barn. And struggled. And when he was doing as well as normal, He could probably say "That bad, huh?"
There are as many messages in the Christmas story as there are people who have though about it. But maybe there is room for one more.
If you are struggling at a noble cause... If you wish that--just this once--it would be easy for just a little while... If finding the spit and bailing twine and duct tape required to keep things together one more day takes much energy as doing the work of the day... If you lie down at night exhausted and daunted at the prospect of another day of this tomorrow...
...then you have good company. And though you can't see it, your humble efforts to keep things together just one more day could have profound impact beyond your imagination. Imagine that teenager lying uncomfortably on the barn floor, having to struggle to her feet to pee--again. She couldn't have known.
She couldn't have known the extent to which the object of her discomfort would change the world.
Your efforts are not meaningless, either.
Tuesday, December 21, 2004
Releasing Righteous Anger
I am holding a fair amount of anger toward someone in my church. I have had run-ins with this person in the past. I doubt he remembers them, but I do. He is one of the leading voices in a movement, to the best of my ability to see, makes people feel inadequate coming before God.
Without going into detail--which might not be fair--I went through a period earlier this year where I felt like church was a performance appraisal and I wasn't measuring up. As one of the leading advocates of the primacy of the liturgy in all things related to the church, I got angry with him, and with a number of other people.
He was a part of Mass this past weekend and I was so angry at him that I could barely concentrate on the Mass. But the reasons we get angry at people tell us at least as much about us as the people at whom we are angry. And part of the reason I was angry at him was because it was relatively easy to make me feel like I wasn't measuring up and was maybe an embarrassment to my parish.
But as much as I am responsible, I don't operate in a vacuum. And I am not the only one who is put off by this. Getting put off by religion does not give you the right to go on a rampage against it. However, I believe that some of the things going on in my church are building walls between God and His people and are helping to keep hurting people from the relief they might find.
By being angry, though, I lose the ability to view this situation with the detachment required to do something about it.
And until I can view it that way, I am hampered by my anger.
Without going into detail--which might not be fair--I went through a period earlier this year where I felt like church was a performance appraisal and I wasn't measuring up. As one of the leading advocates of the primacy of the liturgy in all things related to the church, I got angry with him, and with a number of other people.
He was a part of Mass this past weekend and I was so angry at him that I could barely concentrate on the Mass. But the reasons we get angry at people tell us at least as much about us as the people at whom we are angry. And part of the reason I was angry at him was because it was relatively easy to make me feel like I wasn't measuring up and was maybe an embarrassment to my parish.
But as much as I am responsible, I don't operate in a vacuum. And I am not the only one who is put off by this. Getting put off by religion does not give you the right to go on a rampage against it. However, I believe that some of the things going on in my church are building walls between God and His people and are helping to keep hurting people from the relief they might find.
By being angry, though, I lose the ability to view this situation with the detachment required to do something about it.
And until I can view it that way, I am hampered by my anger.
Monday, December 20, 2004
The Bumper Sticker
We had just told two sets of parents that their babies, which we'd just baptised, were welcomed into the Church because God is love. We applauded them because they were there and were joining us.
As I drove out of God's house and into the real world. And I strained to read the bumper sticker back of the red SUV three cars up from me. You can't be Catholic and pro-choice, it said.
It was the fourth Sunday of Advent. We were getting ready for the coming of Jesus, the man whose death launched a new religion and a lot of thoughts, some of the accurate.
Jesus died, I am told, so that I could dare come before God and hope to emerge as more than a smoldering black spot on the ground. That means, according to the first reading we heard that day, that we have received grace so that we could have the obedience of faith (Romans 1:5).
Apparently, Paul forgot to mention the part about the abortion litmus test.
I need to figure out what other parts Paul might have forgotten about.
As I drove out of God's house and into the real world. And I strained to read the bumper sticker back of the red SUV three cars up from me. You can't be Catholic and pro-choice, it said.
It was the fourth Sunday of Advent. We were getting ready for the coming of Jesus, the man whose death launched a new religion and a lot of thoughts, some of the accurate.
Jesus died, I am told, so that I could dare come before God and hope to emerge as more than a smoldering black spot on the ground. That means, according to the first reading we heard that day, that we have received grace so that we could have the obedience of faith (Romans 1:5).
Apparently, Paul forgot to mention the part about the abortion litmus test.
I need to figure out what other parts Paul might have forgotten about.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
October 13,
Work is difficult right now. I am doing a job that I am clearly not qualified to do and I am doing it...well, about as well as you would expect. I'm not great at it. In fact, some days it seems as if I haven't got a clue what to do and everyone else knows better than I do what my job is.
Yesterday was particularly hard. I'm not good at being bad at something. I am particularly not good at disappointing the people I work for. I take it as a personal point of importance that I erase problems for the people I'm working for. Ironically, that's part of the reason I'm not good at my current job.
But who the hell am I working for? I'm certainly not working for the clamoring throngs who look to me to fix their problems for them on a daily basis. And I'm not working for the people who see, in me, an opportunity to get out of doing their own work. And I'm not working for the people who figure it's easier to have me tell them what to do over the phone than it is for them to look in the help file.
I work for Him.
And as I write this, I am listing to something called Key Life, in which today's message is to do what God told you to do and don't do what He didn't tell you to do. You can't do everything. And neither can I. It is, in fact, somewhat arrogant to assume that you can. And self-absorbed to concentrate on the inevitable failure. (That last part is mine, not theirs.)
So even if the people I work for are unhappy with the things I am doing on my job, it is not them that I work for. It is Him. Now, this is a risky proposition. Paul very clearly indicates that we are to follow what our leadership tells us to do. So it is not our place to regularly tell our leaders to go pound sand. There is a reason they are where they are, and sometimes it is because they are competent and you can learn from them.
So what has God told me to do? That is where things need to start. And it starts with the Bible and your leadership and discernment and the confidence that comes from knowing that you are in Him.
Yesterday was particularly hard. I'm not good at being bad at something. I am particularly not good at disappointing the people I work for. I take it as a personal point of importance that I erase problems for the people I'm working for. Ironically, that's part of the reason I'm not good at my current job.
But who the hell am I working for? I'm certainly not working for the clamoring throngs who look to me to fix their problems for them on a daily basis. And I'm not working for the people who see, in me, an opportunity to get out of doing their own work. And I'm not working for the people who figure it's easier to have me tell them what to do over the phone than it is for them to look in the help file.
I work for Him.
And as I write this, I am listing to something called Key Life, in which today's message is to do what God told you to do and don't do what He didn't tell you to do. You can't do everything. And neither can I. It is, in fact, somewhat arrogant to assume that you can. And self-absorbed to concentrate on the inevitable failure. (That last part is mine, not theirs.)
So even if the people I work for are unhappy with the things I am doing on my job, it is not them that I work for. It is Him. Now, this is a risky proposition. Paul very clearly indicates that we are to follow what our leadership tells us to do. So it is not our place to regularly tell our leaders to go pound sand. There is a reason they are where they are, and sometimes it is because they are competent and you can learn from them.
So what has God told me to do? That is where things need to start. And it starts with the Bible and your leadership and discernment and the confidence that comes from knowing that you are in Him.
Monday, October 11, 2004
October 11, 41
I have 41 years of time to account for today. I hope I don't die today because I can't account for them. I want to be able to account for my time better when I die than I can now.
My time, like yours, is limited. It is expensive and finite. And if you screw it up here, you don't get a do-over.
I don't feel guilty about it. But I feel sad. And excited about what might be coming up. I want it to be good. I have the toold and the knowledge to make it good. But I still need to make the effort.
In doing so, I can't make it about my past failings...and they are legion. I have to make it about the good that I can do. And that's hard work. Right now, I need to push aside the fatigue that I feel and do the work the Lord gave me to do today, rather than concentrating on the break I will get when I really need it. And it will be hard.
But I am up for the hard work. The day will come when my work is done, and then I can rest. In the meantime, today is all that I or you or anyone else has.
A guy named Ken Caminiti died over the weekend. He was the National League's Most Valuable Player just six years ago. He was a popular player, but he took steroids and had some legal problems and those, unfortunately, will be his legacy among those who don't know him. He, like me, was 41.
I'm just starting to understand the truth. I don't want to leave now. I want to put that truth to work.
My time, like yours, is limited. It is expensive and finite. And if you screw it up here, you don't get a do-over.
I don't feel guilty about it. But I feel sad. And excited about what might be coming up. I want it to be good. I have the toold and the knowledge to make it good. But I still need to make the effort.
In doing so, I can't make it about my past failings...and they are legion. I have to make it about the good that I can do. And that's hard work. Right now, I need to push aside the fatigue that I feel and do the work the Lord gave me to do today, rather than concentrating on the break I will get when I really need it. And it will be hard.
But I am up for the hard work. The day will come when my work is done, and then I can rest. In the meantime, today is all that I or you or anyone else has.
A guy named Ken Caminiti died over the weekend. He was the National League's Most Valuable Player just six years ago. He was a popular player, but he took steroids and had some legal problems and those, unfortunately, will be his legacy among those who don't know him. He, like me, was 41.
I'm just starting to understand the truth. I don't want to leave now. I want to put that truth to work.
Sunday, October 10, 2004
October 10, Right Now (It's that Magic Moment)
In my Saturday morning men's group, we are doing a book about the 12 apostles and discussing how, though they were common men, their calling was uncommon. I bought into the concept of the book until one of the other guys said that he didn't think their calling was all that uncommon...that we are all called by God to serve Him. In a sense, we are called to the same thing.
I blanche at that. I know my insufficiencies intimately. They are the harlot lover that I know is bad for me, but I still can't manage to keep away from. As much as I know I should avoid her, as much as I know she will reduce me, I just can't stay away. I steel my resolve against her and she opens her arms to me and my resolve melts and I give in. Again.
Sometimes I am tired and I figure I deserve a little break. Maybe I don't have to try so hard. Sometimes I don't think at all. I just give in, and then here we are, back in the old insecurities again. Back wallowing in the knowledge of my shortcomings.
And sometimes she speaks to me seductive lies. It's okay for you. It's hard and you have every right to be ordinary or less. Stop being so hard on yourself. Stop expecting so much. Just do what you want, even if it is nothing. Or less.
It's a cliche that you get out of life what you put into it. But it's a cliche for a reason. We get one shot at this. One time to play the game. There's no do-over if we screw it up. It's there and it's gone, a full lifetime spun away when just moments before it seemed infinite in its expanse.
Life is hard. It necessarily involves pain and mistakes and things that are absolutely wrong that we do anyway because that's how we are sometimes. When she whispers to me, she tells me that I can be less because of these things. The pain and mistakes and baggage make it okay for me to kick back.
Tomorrow, I won't be 40 any more. About half my lifetime, maybe more, is gone. It seems like just yesterday, it was 1978 or 1985 or 1994. The time ahead of me isn't infinite any more. It is time to get things done. If I want to be something uncommon, I need to start today. I need to push aside the attraction to being less than I could be.
In the second half of my life, I need to understand that it isn't about me. It is about my son, who is seven today. It is about my daughter, who is starting the uneven road through adolescence. It is about my wife, who is still with me despite my disappointing her more times than I can count. It's about people I know who could see in me something to make a difference, but don't because I have chosen not to display it. It's about people I don't know yet, or never will know, whose lives I could touch if I only chose to do so.
It's not about wallowing in my weaknesses and expecting perfecting and beating myself when I fall short. That is the harlot talking. It's about understanding that I am not perfect, but not expecting perfection. It's about making myself more than the sum of my failures and releasing myself from them so I might be able to be more.
It's taken 40 years of hard work for me to understand. I've tried and failed and not tried and tried a little and failed and been afraid and I am finally starting to understand. I have an obligation to live according to my understanding. Just as you have an obligation to live according to yours. And to take chances and to not be common.
It is bigger than me. And when it is gone, I will have to take my regrets with me. I prefer to travel light.
The only question is whether there is enough courage and faith to do so.
I blanche at that. I know my insufficiencies intimately. They are the harlot lover that I know is bad for me, but I still can't manage to keep away from. As much as I know I should avoid her, as much as I know she will reduce me, I just can't stay away. I steel my resolve against her and she opens her arms to me and my resolve melts and I give in. Again.
Sometimes I am tired and I figure I deserve a little break. Maybe I don't have to try so hard. Sometimes I don't think at all. I just give in, and then here we are, back in the old insecurities again. Back wallowing in the knowledge of my shortcomings.
And sometimes she speaks to me seductive lies. It's okay for you. It's hard and you have every right to be ordinary or less. Stop being so hard on yourself. Stop expecting so much. Just do what you want, even if it is nothing. Or less.
It's a cliche that you get out of life what you put into it. But it's a cliche for a reason. We get one shot at this. One time to play the game. There's no do-over if we screw it up. It's there and it's gone, a full lifetime spun away when just moments before it seemed infinite in its expanse.
Life is hard. It necessarily involves pain and mistakes and things that are absolutely wrong that we do anyway because that's how we are sometimes. When she whispers to me, she tells me that I can be less because of these things. The pain and mistakes and baggage make it okay for me to kick back.
Tomorrow, I won't be 40 any more. About half my lifetime, maybe more, is gone. It seems like just yesterday, it was 1978 or 1985 or 1994. The time ahead of me isn't infinite any more. It is time to get things done. If I want to be something uncommon, I need to start today. I need to push aside the attraction to being less than I could be.
In the second half of my life, I need to understand that it isn't about me. It is about my son, who is seven today. It is about my daughter, who is starting the uneven road through adolescence. It is about my wife, who is still with me despite my disappointing her more times than I can count. It's about people I know who could see in me something to make a difference, but don't because I have chosen not to display it. It's about people I don't know yet, or never will know, whose lives I could touch if I only chose to do so.
It's not about wallowing in my weaknesses and expecting perfecting and beating myself when I fall short. That is the harlot talking. It's about understanding that I am not perfect, but not expecting perfection. It's about making myself more than the sum of my failures and releasing myself from them so I might be able to be more.
It's taken 40 years of hard work for me to understand. I've tried and failed and not tried and tried a little and failed and been afraid and I am finally starting to understand. I have an obligation to live according to my understanding. Just as you have an obligation to live according to yours. And to take chances and to not be common.
It is bigger than me. And when it is gone, I will have to take my regrets with me. I prefer to travel light.
The only question is whether there is enough courage and faith to do so.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
October 9. On Baseball and the Saux
The headless horseman galloped about on a mild autumn night, chasing Ichabod Crane like so many ghosts of his past, until what had once looked like sweet salvation became the end of everything.
Such is the life of a Boston Red Sox fan. Through the ages, the names echo with devastating clarity...Denny Galehouse, Johnny Pesky, Bucky Dent, Bill Buckner, Aaron Boone. And last night, Saux fans were preparing to add a name to that list after the hometown team blew a five-run lead in the game that would have clinched the Saux a spot in the AL Championship series.
I've read stories of how, after two Mets reached base in the fleeting moments of October 25, 1986, Saux fans knew it was over. How they knew what Bucky Dent would do. So they can be forgiven if they were ready to add Chone Figgins or someone of like stature to the list.
But a strange thing happened...the curse was at least postponed. And the name of David Ortiz joined Dave Henderson and Carlton Fisk on a much sorter list of storied heroism. And the Saux will move on to face either the Yankees or Twins in the ALCS.
Something is different this year. The curse may be waiting or it may have departed New England only to settle someplace else. Chicago, maybe.
Such is the life of a Boston Red Sox fan. Through the ages, the names echo with devastating clarity...Denny Galehouse, Johnny Pesky, Bucky Dent, Bill Buckner, Aaron Boone. And last night, Saux fans were preparing to add a name to that list after the hometown team blew a five-run lead in the game that would have clinched the Saux a spot in the AL Championship series.
I've read stories of how, after two Mets reached base in the fleeting moments of October 25, 1986, Saux fans knew it was over. How they knew what Bucky Dent would do. So they can be forgiven if they were ready to add Chone Figgins or someone of like stature to the list.
But a strange thing happened...the curse was at least postponed. And the name of David Ortiz joined Dave Henderson and Carlton Fisk on a much sorter list of storied heroism. And the Saux will move on to face either the Yankees or Twins in the ALCS.
Something is different this year. The curse may be waiting or it may have departed New England only to settle someplace else. Chicago, maybe.
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
October 5, The Danger of this Message
One of the points I have made recently is that you can only achieve freedom in the absence of ego. It gave me pause to see the same concept here. I haven't done a ton of research into this establishment, but it doesn't look healthy. Its invitation to eliminate "SELF" is similar to what I have written, but not the same.
I still believe what I wrote, but I also believe it needs to be clarified, or it becomes an invitation for flogging yourself.
In my opinion, the ego must be diminished to make room for the freedom of God. God gives us freedom when we obey Him. But God also gave us a set of tools to help figure out what that means. We aren't to be told God's will and to follow it blindly. We were given tools to determine the will of God and we are to use those tools to find discernment.
One of the key concepts of the Catholic belief is the importance of conscience. Your conscience if formed by looking at the facts and applying your moral beliefs to those facts. It should feed your decision-making process.
Your community should also feed it. The Bible clearly indicates that we are to seek wise counsel. And the Word of God is pretty clear about a lot of things.
So while we are looking at obedience and the making less of self, we need to look at it in the context of conscience and wise advice and the Bible and prayer. Anything else is an invitation to domination.
We are fearfully and wonderfully made. We screw up, but we are here to help each other and guide each other to the finish line. Anything that doesn't feed that is clearly wrong.
I still believe what I wrote, but I also believe it needs to be clarified, or it becomes an invitation for flogging yourself.
In my opinion, the ego must be diminished to make room for the freedom of God. God gives us freedom when we obey Him. But God also gave us a set of tools to help figure out what that means. We aren't to be told God's will and to follow it blindly. We were given tools to determine the will of God and we are to use those tools to find discernment.
One of the key concepts of the Catholic belief is the importance of conscience. Your conscience if formed by looking at the facts and applying your moral beliefs to those facts. It should feed your decision-making process.
Your community should also feed it. The Bible clearly indicates that we are to seek wise counsel. And the Word of God is pretty clear about a lot of things.
So while we are looking at obedience and the making less of self, we need to look at it in the context of conscience and wise advice and the Bible and prayer. Anything else is an invitation to domination.
We are fearfully and wonderfully made. We screw up, but we are here to help each other and guide each other to the finish line. Anything that doesn't feed that is clearly wrong.
Monday, October 04, 2004
October 4, Sometimes you just get tired
Maybe it is the lack of vacation. I've had a day here or there, but nothing in a row since Christmas. Anyway, I am tired. I need some days off.
Fact of the matter is, I am incredibly blessed to live in a time when days off are a possibility. For most of human life, days off have been rare, even unheard of. In fact, paid vacation is a luxury we in the westernized world take for granted. Then again, we aren't out trying to build a hut for shelter or hunting for or growing the food that will feed our children.
So right away, the key thing to do is to thank God for the gift that He has bestowed that allows me to have a day off where I don't have to work on things. Right away, that simple change of perspective sort of cuts down on the tired.
Still, I need some recharging. And I will get it. I'm supposed to take time off this week. But that could still fall through. Even so, I have some time off later in the month and Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming.
The point is, nothing is forever. And when the pile of garbage starts to get bigger than your ability to grapple with it, eventually, rebirth will come. You just have to be on the lookout for it and believe it is possible.
As soon as you don't believe, it won't happen.
Fact of the matter is, I am incredibly blessed to live in a time when days off are a possibility. For most of human life, days off have been rare, even unheard of. In fact, paid vacation is a luxury we in the westernized world take for granted. Then again, we aren't out trying to build a hut for shelter or hunting for or growing the food that will feed our children.
So right away, the key thing to do is to thank God for the gift that He has bestowed that allows me to have a day off where I don't have to work on things. Right away, that simple change of perspective sort of cuts down on the tired.
Still, I need some recharging. And I will get it. I'm supposed to take time off this week. But that could still fall through. Even so, I have some time off later in the month and Thanksgiving and Christmas are coming.
The point is, nothing is forever. And when the pile of garbage starts to get bigger than your ability to grapple with it, eventually, rebirth will come. You just have to be on the lookout for it and believe it is possible.
As soon as you don't believe, it won't happen.
Sunday, October 03, 2004
October 3, The Prisons We Build Ourselves
If you believe, and if you ask for God's forgiveness, you will receive it. Period. After that, you are free. After that, the bottom line is that sin no longer holds you captive. You might fall from freedom from time to time; in fact, you almost definitely will fall. But your freedom is your heritage at that point if you claim it.
The prisons from that point forward are of our own making. We build them and we live in them, straining against the bars that keep us captive, all the while not realizing that the door is unlocked and we can leave.
I don't want my prisons any more. I want to walk out of them free so that I can do the things I know that I have the ability to do.
I don't want the prison of "I'm not good enough." I am through with the prison of "I am a bad person." And I will never live again in "Because of my sin, I am worthless to God."
A couple of years ago, God grabbed my hand in the darkness of my darkest moments. And He walked with me. Through all my crying and fighting and wailing, He walked with me, guiding me out of the dungeons I built. Easing me forward, sometimes so slowly that it seemed like I wasn't moving and that I would never move.
But over time, the changes became evident. The air became sweeter and the darkness eased. And the weight on my heart and soul melted. And I have come to realize that I am no longer there any more.
I am outside and it is pleasantly warm. The sun is cascading down upon me, caressing me with its warmth. There is a slight breeze and the colors are vivid, almost to the point of overwhelming me. The sky is so deep in its blueness, that it seems as if it should be dark. But it's not. The grass tickles slightly as I walk though the meadow.
The prisons are almost out of view now. And I can bask in the light and love of the Father who led me here and who will keep me from going back.
The prisons from that point forward are of our own making. We build them and we live in them, straining against the bars that keep us captive, all the while not realizing that the door is unlocked and we can leave.
I don't want my prisons any more. I want to walk out of them free so that I can do the things I know that I have the ability to do.
I don't want the prison of "I'm not good enough." I am through with the prison of "I am a bad person." And I will never live again in "Because of my sin, I am worthless to God."
A couple of years ago, God grabbed my hand in the darkness of my darkest moments. And He walked with me. Through all my crying and fighting and wailing, He walked with me, guiding me out of the dungeons I built. Easing me forward, sometimes so slowly that it seemed like I wasn't moving and that I would never move.
But over time, the changes became evident. The air became sweeter and the darkness eased. And the weight on my heart and soul melted. And I have come to realize that I am no longer there any more.
I am outside and it is pleasantly warm. The sun is cascading down upon me, caressing me with its warmth. There is a slight breeze and the colors are vivid, almost to the point of overwhelming me. The sky is so deep in its blueness, that it seems as if it should be dark. But it's not. The grass tickles slightly as I walk though the meadow.
The prisons are almost out of view now. And I can bask in the light and love of the Father who led me here and who will keep me from going back.
October 3, Of Humble Origins
My men's group is starting a study of the Apostles this week. It's a 13-week program, I believe, but we will probably be able to cover it in six months. We tend to really dig deep on things sometimes.
The major point of the study is that the Apostles were twelve ordinary people. None of them were scholars or visionaries or rich men or leaders of important movements. They were fishermen, a tax collector, various others whose life consisted of working hard and trying, for the most part, to do the right thing and obtain economic security to some degree.
And yet, nearly 2000 years after their deaths, we know their names. Most of us don't know the names of the people who were important in roles around them. The head of the local temple, the merchants who bought their fish, the people they had to tread lightly around or life would be difficult.
Yet, we know about these twelve. In worldly terms, they were nothing special. They were more or less like the people around them. Yet they were called and answered the call.
In a similar way, we have the ability to answer the call and be something special, too. It's just a matter of understanding who you are and, if you are inclined to think this way, whose you are. These guys weren't super heroes. And they weren't Godly and perfect, either. They screwed it up as often as not. And yet they made a difference.
Their humble origins, the fact that they often failed, and the fact that in the end, they made a difference anyway is significant. It means that for all our faults, for all the things that we believe make us unable to make a significant difference, we can. We just have to have the faith in our actions and the courage to take a chance. And if we do that, maybe it will make a difference.
The major point of the study is that the Apostles were twelve ordinary people. None of them were scholars or visionaries or rich men or leaders of important movements. They were fishermen, a tax collector, various others whose life consisted of working hard and trying, for the most part, to do the right thing and obtain economic security to some degree.
And yet, nearly 2000 years after their deaths, we know their names. Most of us don't know the names of the people who were important in roles around them. The head of the local temple, the merchants who bought their fish, the people they had to tread lightly around or life would be difficult.
Yet, we know about these twelve. In worldly terms, they were nothing special. They were more or less like the people around them. Yet they were called and answered the call.
In a similar way, we have the ability to answer the call and be something special, too. It's just a matter of understanding who you are and, if you are inclined to think this way, whose you are. These guys weren't super heroes. And they weren't Godly and perfect, either. They screwed it up as often as not. And yet they made a difference.
Their humble origins, the fact that they often failed, and the fact that in the end, they made a difference anyway is significant. It means that for all our faults, for all the things that we believe make us unable to make a significant difference, we can. We just have to have the faith in our actions and the courage to take a chance. And if we do that, maybe it will make a difference.
Saturday, October 02, 2004
October 2, On Haiti
Imagine having a storm come through your town. Imagine that it is so bad that you can't count the dead. Imagine that there are so many dead people that they load them into dump trucks and dump them in a hole and cover them over.
That's what's going on in Haiti right now.
Imagine that your adult child lives on the other side of town and you can't locate him or her and you spend weeks looking. And you figure more and more that the person whose fragile body you once cradled in your arms was tossed in a hole with a mess of other people. But you will never know.
This isn't taking place across the world. It's a few hundred miles off the coast of Florida, in a place where cruise ships pass by and stop.
Imagine that there is so much wrong that no matter what you do, it will not cause any major changes for the better. Imagine looking out on people and knowing that the food you have to give them will feed only a fraction.
Imagine standing in the mob that is waiting for food and knowing that you timed it wrong and got there late and that your kids are going to be hungry for the next several days as a result.
We live in a wonderful land. I can walk to any of three supermarkets and get food without waiting in line. And I can get food that I really like there, and just pass it up if I don't like it. I have never had to send my children to bed hungry because there was no food. I have never had to listen to them cry themselves to sleep because they don't know when they are going to eat again.
It seems to me that when we look at the problems of the world, this particular one should be more important than it is. But how do you fix it? What can you do about it? With a corrupt government, you can pour all the money in the world into the problem and it won't make a difference. Freedom--political freedom--is vital for people to prosper.
But we aren't talking about prospering. We're talking about mass starvation and pits in which piles of what used to be people are placed. I can't imagine the level of heartache there.
That's what's going on in Haiti right now.
Imagine that your adult child lives on the other side of town and you can't locate him or her and you spend weeks looking. And you figure more and more that the person whose fragile body you once cradled in your arms was tossed in a hole with a mess of other people. But you will never know.
This isn't taking place across the world. It's a few hundred miles off the coast of Florida, in a place where cruise ships pass by and stop.
Imagine that there is so much wrong that no matter what you do, it will not cause any major changes for the better. Imagine looking out on people and knowing that the food you have to give them will feed only a fraction.
Imagine standing in the mob that is waiting for food and knowing that you timed it wrong and got there late and that your kids are going to be hungry for the next several days as a result.
We live in a wonderful land. I can walk to any of three supermarkets and get food without waiting in line. And I can get food that I really like there, and just pass it up if I don't like it. I have never had to send my children to bed hungry because there was no food. I have never had to listen to them cry themselves to sleep because they don't know when they are going to eat again.
It seems to me that when we look at the problems of the world, this particular one should be more important than it is. But how do you fix it? What can you do about it? With a corrupt government, you can pour all the money in the world into the problem and it won't make a difference. Freedom--political freedom--is vital for people to prosper.
But we aren't talking about prospering. We're talking about mass starvation and pits in which piles of what used to be people are placed. I can't imagine the level of heartache there.
Friday, October 01, 2004
October 1, Freedom is Hard
I'm not much of a jumper. Never have been. I could jump respectably when we played volleyball on a gym floor in college, but never off sand. My flippant assessment of that was that the sand monster reached up and grabbed my legs. The truth was, even in college, I was a little overweight and could have been in better shape.
The same is true of freedom. There are things that reach up and grab me as I try to exercise my freedom. The things I've screwed up, my insecurities, that voice within me that takes small things that I have done and turns them huge. And they do their damnedest to make me nothing more than a sum of my shortcomings.
One of the hard things about freedom is being freed from these things while still taking responsibility for your actions. We have all fallen short. We have all screwed up. We all have more than enough things that make us cringe inside when we call them to mind.
Those things are real and they can never be undone. Even when we fix them, they still happened. And in some cases, they caused great harm. And that can sometimes be fixed, but it, too, can never be undone. And sometimes it will come back and bite us over and over again, exploiting that insecurity.
I believe that we have a foe and that foe knows and will exploit our weaknesses. He will heap guilt upon us for things for which we are forgiven. He will do the same for things that need no forgiveness. And he is skilled at disception and manipulation.
For me, the hardest part of freedom is standing firm in the face of that foe. He cannot take away your freedom, but he can convince you that it is not yours to have.
The same is true of freedom. There are things that reach up and grab me as I try to exercise my freedom. The things I've screwed up, my insecurities, that voice within me that takes small things that I have done and turns them huge. And they do their damnedest to make me nothing more than a sum of my shortcomings.
One of the hard things about freedom is being freed from these things while still taking responsibility for your actions. We have all fallen short. We have all screwed up. We all have more than enough things that make us cringe inside when we call them to mind.
Those things are real and they can never be undone. Even when we fix them, they still happened. And in some cases, they caused great harm. And that can sometimes be fixed, but it, too, can never be undone. And sometimes it will come back and bite us over and over again, exploiting that insecurity.
I believe that we have a foe and that foe knows and will exploit our weaknesses. He will heap guilt upon us for things for which we are forgiven. He will do the same for things that need no forgiveness. And he is skilled at disception and manipulation.
For me, the hardest part of freedom is standing firm in the face of that foe. He cannot take away your freedom, but he can convince you that it is not yours to have.
Thursday, September 30, 2004
September 30, Freedom to See Your Flaws
Well, we made it. Another last day of existence has come and past and here we are.
Freedom includes the ability to be introspective. It includes the ability to honestly look at yourself and take the time to realistically assess who and what you are. Catholicism has a concept called "examination of conscience." Taken at its face value, it means that you review what you've done before you go to bed at night and ask forgiveness.
But it's really deeper than that. It involves a look within yourself on an ongoing basis to see who you are and figure out where that stands in relation to who you want to be. This is not to say that we have to perform to earn grace. But, as new knowledge is laid upon your heart, you must deal with that or you are living with less than you should. Inspection of conscience is part of the process of assimilating the new information.
But given the fact the you know that God loves you, you have the freedom to try to look at yourself objectively, perhaps as God sees you. I mean look at yourself in totallity. Don't concentrate on what you have messed up, or on what you excel at. But look at the whole package and figure out, in prayer, thought, and communion with others, and figure out where you want to go from there.
This is not a one-day project. I think that one flaw in many newer Christians is that they expect that their character flaws are going to evaporate. Things will get better and the worst things about you will vanish.
That's not how it goes. Following God involves a lot of waiting. It involves understanding that this is for the long haul. It is not going to instantly change and you are not likely to turn into Mother Theresa overnight.
If anything, the lessons might be harder to deal with, because now you don't have to protect yourself against them. You can really explore your screwups because you are covered by the blood of the Lamb and the love of your Father. And you can explore the parts of you that you don't like without being impaled on them and whipping yourself for them.
The proper role of conscience is as a guide to show you what you don't want, and to move from there. Once you are alerted to where you need to go and you do what you can to make right what you have screwed up, let it go.
You can't get better if you define yourself by your failures. And you can't guide other people to a salvation that you don't really believe in.
Freedom includes the ability to be introspective. It includes the ability to honestly look at yourself and take the time to realistically assess who and what you are. Catholicism has a concept called "examination of conscience." Taken at its face value, it means that you review what you've done before you go to bed at night and ask forgiveness.
But it's really deeper than that. It involves a look within yourself on an ongoing basis to see who you are and figure out where that stands in relation to who you want to be. This is not to say that we have to perform to earn grace. But, as new knowledge is laid upon your heart, you must deal with that or you are living with less than you should. Inspection of conscience is part of the process of assimilating the new information.
But given the fact the you know that God loves you, you have the freedom to try to look at yourself objectively, perhaps as God sees you. I mean look at yourself in totallity. Don't concentrate on what you have messed up, or on what you excel at. But look at the whole package and figure out, in prayer, thought, and communion with others, and figure out where you want to go from there.
This is not a one-day project. I think that one flaw in many newer Christians is that they expect that their character flaws are going to evaporate. Things will get better and the worst things about you will vanish.
That's not how it goes. Following God involves a lot of waiting. It involves understanding that this is for the long haul. It is not going to instantly change and you are not likely to turn into Mother Theresa overnight.
If anything, the lessons might be harder to deal with, because now you don't have to protect yourself against them. You can really explore your screwups because you are covered by the blood of the Lamb and the love of your Father. And you can explore the parts of you that you don't like without being impaled on them and whipping yourself for them.
The proper role of conscience is as a guide to show you what you don't want, and to move from there. Once you are alerted to where you need to go and you do what you can to make right what you have screwed up, let it go.
You can't get better if you define yourself by your failures. And you can't guide other people to a salvation that you don't really believe in.
Wednesday, September 29, 2004
September 29
Today is supposed to be the end of the world.
According to some knuckleheads who appeared on Mark and Brian's morning radio show in LA a while back, there would be earthquakes and a giant volcano and an asteroid. Today.
And lo and behold, all of that is happening, to one degree or another. And today's readings reference apocalyptic stuff and talk of the wonderful signs that we will see. And then there is Florida, which has been the sparring partner for a succession of hurricanes. And Haiti, which has been a living hell for those who reside there.
So maybe today is the end of time. So what? If God is loving and you are His, what does it matter? Left Behind is a well-marketed take on Revelation. But it is also largely irrelevant.
What is more relevant is the pain that the people in Florida and Haiti are living through. What is more relevant is the harm that might come if Mount St. Helens explodes. And what is most important is our response to that.
According to some knuckleheads who appeared on Mark and Brian's morning radio show in LA a while back, there would be earthquakes and a giant volcano and an asteroid. Today.
And lo and behold, all of that is happening, to one degree or another. And today's readings reference apocalyptic stuff and talk of the wonderful signs that we will see. And then there is Florida, which has been the sparring partner for a succession of hurricanes. And Haiti, which has been a living hell for those who reside there.
So maybe today is the end of time. So what? If God is loving and you are His, what does it matter? Left Behind is a well-marketed take on Revelation. But it is also largely irrelevant.
What is more relevant is the pain that the people in Florida and Haiti are living through. What is more relevant is the harm that might come if Mount St. Helens explodes. And what is most important is our response to that.
Tuesday, September 28, 2004
September 28
Okay, so we are free. And we can celebrate that freedom.
And then life happens.
Right now, I am in above my head at work. I am lucky in that my boss understands that I am in above my head and allows me to make mistakes without the threat of summary execution. I have not always been so lucky.
But that having been said, when I get home in the evening, I feel as if I have run the gauntlet. My work life is from the Indiana Jones school of business survival. It is one of the things that happens in life and before you take this as complaining, we got through all the hurricanes so far and haven't lost life, roof, or electricity.
The point is that I am free and that God invites me to bask in and celebrate that freedom. But then the crap creeps in from around the edges and before long, I am so busy beating back the crap such that it becomes a consuming, full-time occupation. And before long, I have given up my freedom in exchange for the work of making it through the day.
So how does one avoid this fate?
Beats me. I wish I knew. But I think it starts through community. It starts by having people around you who can remind you of your freedom. Because freedom isn't free; it's hard. It's hard to maintain and it's hard to remember and you need people around you who will be with you and remind you. With them you don't have to worry about agendas or who's out to take credit for what you did or whether they want what you have.
The Bible counsels us to seek wise counsel. But it is equally important that you find wise counsel that will stand with you and listen to you when you are broken-hearted or just sit with you when you don't want to be alone.
I have a wife who is a better companion than I deserve. Companion almost sounds like an insult in the context of marriage and love. But it's not, really. At the end of it, that's the gift of marriage. God gives us to each other so that we can stand by each other and know that someone will be there no matter how bad the day has been. I've never though about this before, but in the bounds of marriage, we are to be God's hands to each other. When I have been beaten and tossed about during the day and I come home and my wife hugs me, she becomes God's hands to me. What a wonderful miracle.
I meet with a group of guys each Saturday morning. Until quite recently, I stayed away because of things happening at my church. When I went back two Saturdays ago, they were genuinely happy to see me and they accepted me even though I sat and said almost nothing. And they accepted me this past weekend when it was appropriate for me to say a great deal.
You can't be free alone. Freedom requires help. And that help is why a supportive community is so important in the context of Christian living.
And then life happens.
Right now, I am in above my head at work. I am lucky in that my boss understands that I am in above my head and allows me to make mistakes without the threat of summary execution. I have not always been so lucky.
But that having been said, when I get home in the evening, I feel as if I have run the gauntlet. My work life is from the Indiana Jones school of business survival. It is one of the things that happens in life and before you take this as complaining, we got through all the hurricanes so far and haven't lost life, roof, or electricity.
The point is that I am free and that God invites me to bask in and celebrate that freedom. But then the crap creeps in from around the edges and before long, I am so busy beating back the crap such that it becomes a consuming, full-time occupation. And before long, I have given up my freedom in exchange for the work of making it through the day.
So how does one avoid this fate?
Beats me. I wish I knew. But I think it starts through community. It starts by having people around you who can remind you of your freedom. Because freedom isn't free; it's hard. It's hard to maintain and it's hard to remember and you need people around you who will be with you and remind you. With them you don't have to worry about agendas or who's out to take credit for what you did or whether they want what you have.
The Bible counsels us to seek wise counsel. But it is equally important that you find wise counsel that will stand with you and listen to you when you are broken-hearted or just sit with you when you don't want to be alone.
I have a wife who is a better companion than I deserve. Companion almost sounds like an insult in the context of marriage and love. But it's not, really. At the end of it, that's the gift of marriage. God gives us to each other so that we can stand by each other and know that someone will be there no matter how bad the day has been. I've never though about this before, but in the bounds of marriage, we are to be God's hands to each other. When I have been beaten and tossed about during the day and I come home and my wife hugs me, she becomes God's hands to me. What a wonderful miracle.
I meet with a group of guys each Saturday morning. Until quite recently, I stayed away because of things happening at my church. When I went back two Saturdays ago, they were genuinely happy to see me and they accepted me even though I sat and said almost nothing. And they accepted me this past weekend when it was appropriate for me to say a great deal.
You can't be free alone. Freedom requires help. And that help is why a supportive community is so important in the context of Christian living.
Monday, September 27, 2004
September 27
Sometimes, in the midst of your freedom, stuff will reach up and grab you. Sometimes, because we aren't perfect, our imperfections will snake up out of the ground and ensnare you and capture you. It is another of our imperfections.
A lot of the stuff we look at and view as harmless, really isn't. In actuality, it's not that it's harmful, it's that it could lead to harm. And that has to be dealt with in the context of freedom. Because freedom isn't free and it isn't easy. And though it is our heritage and it was what God purchased for us at the cost of His Son's life, it can be hard to maintain.
I guess that it's time to bow and turn to Him and ask for His grace and His wisdom to guide you. And at the end, if we perservere and stand strong in Him, the reward will be worth the effort. I guess that's the part where faith kicks in. If you know that you will stand in His presence, then it makes it much easier to humbly take on what has been placed in front of you.
A lot of the stuff we look at and view as harmless, really isn't. In actuality, it's not that it's harmful, it's that it could lead to harm. And that has to be dealt with in the context of freedom. Because freedom isn't free and it isn't easy. And though it is our heritage and it was what God purchased for us at the cost of His Son's life, it can be hard to maintain.
I guess that it's time to bow and turn to Him and ask for His grace and His wisdom to guide you. And at the end, if we perservere and stand strong in Him, the reward will be worth the effort. I guess that's the part where faith kicks in. If you know that you will stand in His presence, then it makes it much easier to humbly take on what has been placed in front of you.
Sunday, September 26, 2004
September 26
It has been a crazy week, and thus no posting. It was a week in which I was sick the first half of the week. The second half of the week featured requests then demands at work for things I don't have the authority or ability to do. By the end of the week, I was feeling pretty cranky and not at all Godly.
And I think that's okay.
One of the things that I tend to do to myself is to expect perfection. If I am able to do something, I should be able to do it each and every time. There is no excuse for anything else...
But that is not in keeping with the freedom that God has granted us. The bottom line is this:
And I think that's okay.
One of the things that I tend to do to myself is to expect perfection. If I am able to do something, I should be able to do it each and every time. There is no excuse for anything else...
But that is not in keeping with the freedom that God has granted us. The bottom line is this:
- Do your best to love God and your neighbor
- Ask forgiveness when you screw it up
- Try again tomorrow
To some people, this represents a dangerous proposition. It means we are free to crap all over each other in the name of love your neighbor. After all, if I love you, then I will get you right with God using any means necessary. And I will do it with love. And, if somehow this force-feeding hurts you, I will just ask forgiveness and I have no responsibility.
That's not God's love; it's Marie Barone's.
God's love means that you have to do your best, then really examine your conscience. In many cases, the views we have of sin are almost child-like. I said something mean or I ate a second piece of cake. But those are only skin-deep. Real sin runs much deeper and sometimes takes a long time to sort out. Catholics have a concept called examination of conscience, which you are supposed to do before receiving the Eucharist and before confession.
But examination of conscience is an on-going process that can take months or even longer, as you continually change and mature in your relationship with God. And its purpose is to understand where you stand in relationship to where you belong to guide your relationship with God and how you play that relationship out in daily life. It's not an excuse to beat yourself up, but to take responsibility for what you have done, so you can bring it to God and be freed of it. Without this process, we would be defined as a collection of our worst mistakes, and that ignores the intrinsic value of each human being.
The examination of conscience is a key component of freedom because without it, you can misuse your freedom and do great harm to people.
Put another way, I have been freed from a great number of things. The last thing I want to do is to use my freedom to build prisons of guilt or insufficiency for others. And because I can ask forgiveness when I screw it up, and I know I will be granted that forgiveness, I am free to try again, but with the humility of someone who is escaping a storm of my own making through the grace and mercy of a loving Father who guides and protects.
Sunday, September 19, 2004
September 19
Against all this context, the story of Job takes on a new meaning. I have always been afraid of the story of Job. Every possible thing that could go wrong happens to Job. I have had some tests in my adult life, but I have been blessed by a wife who believes in me more than I believe in myself.
Job doesn't have that luxury. Even his wife tells him to curse God and die.
But look at what happens to Job. Everything is not taken from him. He stands firm, and though his faith waivers, his soul remains untouched and he enters into a greater reward at the end of his travails.
Romans 8:28 says that "We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose."
At first, I took that as a very comforting passage because it meant that God wasn't going to do anything that was bad for me as long as I loved Him. But then, I realized that the things that are good for me are sometimes not happy, lovely things. Sometimes they involve pain and difficulty. Sometimes they involve dealing with my sins and shortcomings in a very intimate and painful manner.
Suddenly, what had been a very comforting passage became very ominous. God would do what was good for me, even if it hurt. And it was not something that I can control.
Now, my view of this passage is a combination. God is going to make all things work for me if I love Him. And yes, those things may be very painful. I have to interject that I am not looking forward to the judgement day, because I know that I have done some things that I am not going to want to be tried over. But in the end, as long as I stand firm in the grace of God, my soul cannot be taken from me.
That means as long as I seek God first, though things may come up that hurt, they are transitory and will eventually melt away before the goodness of God. I can act in freedom and do not have to be bound to ego-laden self-protection.
Job doesn't have that luxury. Even his wife tells him to curse God and die.
But look at what happens to Job. Everything is not taken from him. He stands firm, and though his faith waivers, his soul remains untouched and he enters into a greater reward at the end of his travails.
Romans 8:28 says that "We know that all things work for good for those who love God, who are called according to his purpose."
At first, I took that as a very comforting passage because it meant that God wasn't going to do anything that was bad for me as long as I loved Him. But then, I realized that the things that are good for me are sometimes not happy, lovely things. Sometimes they involve pain and difficulty. Sometimes they involve dealing with my sins and shortcomings in a very intimate and painful manner.
Suddenly, what had been a very comforting passage became very ominous. God would do what was good for me, even if it hurt. And it was not something that I can control.
Now, my view of this passage is a combination. God is going to make all things work for me if I love Him. And yes, those things may be very painful. I have to interject that I am not looking forward to the judgement day, because I know that I have done some things that I am not going to want to be tried over. But in the end, as long as I stand firm in the grace of God, my soul cannot be taken from me.
That means as long as I seek God first, though things may come up that hurt, they are transitory and will eventually melt away before the goodness of God. I can act in freedom and do not have to be bound to ego-laden self-protection.
Saturday, September 18, 2004
September 18
So how does one become free, then?
I believe that's where the denial of self comes in. Denial of self is a very difficult teaching. It is far too easy to interpret self-denial as literally denying yourself fun and goodness and lightness of heart. It is equally easy to interpret it as self-flagellation, as sort of an ongoing fixation on our inability to stand before God.
As you look at the cross, it is easy to get stuck on the fact that you might as well have been the person holding the nails and swinging the hammer. And that is true. But it is also half of the story. The other half is Jesus publicly asking for our forgiveness because we don't know what we are doing.
In a similar way, brokeness before God is just half the picture. Yes, we are all worthy of condemnation. But we are also forgiven, brought back into our heritage as His by His love made concrete through the pleas of Jesus to forgive us. It is not enough to realize that we are guilty of putting Jesus on the cross. After that must come the realization that once put there, Jesus--my Lord and my God--asked for our forgiveness. And by the very action that causes our condemnation, we are give the keys to forgiveness.
Judging yourself is to some degree appropriate, but it is not enough. We have to understand that judgement to understand that we have screwed up and that we fall short. And then, we have to do something about it. And that something determines whether we are broken by the Rock of Salvation or elevated by it.
We have to understand that God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whosoever believes in Him might not perish, but have eternal life.
Well, if God is with you, then what can you not withstand if you stay in His graces? Every single thing that you have can be stripped away, except for the love of a Father who went to extraordinary means to show us that love. And with that realization comes the understanding that nothing can hurt you.
And that is the beginning of freedom.
I believe that's where the denial of self comes in. Denial of self is a very difficult teaching. It is far too easy to interpret self-denial as literally denying yourself fun and goodness and lightness of heart. It is equally easy to interpret it as self-flagellation, as sort of an ongoing fixation on our inability to stand before God.
As you look at the cross, it is easy to get stuck on the fact that you might as well have been the person holding the nails and swinging the hammer. And that is true. But it is also half of the story. The other half is Jesus publicly asking for our forgiveness because we don't know what we are doing.
In a similar way, brokeness before God is just half the picture. Yes, we are all worthy of condemnation. But we are also forgiven, brought back into our heritage as His by His love made concrete through the pleas of Jesus to forgive us. It is not enough to realize that we are guilty of putting Jesus on the cross. After that must come the realization that once put there, Jesus--my Lord and my God--asked for our forgiveness. And by the very action that causes our condemnation, we are give the keys to forgiveness.
Judging yourself is to some degree appropriate, but it is not enough. We have to understand that judgement to understand that we have screwed up and that we fall short. And then, we have to do something about it. And that something determines whether we are broken by the Rock of Salvation or elevated by it.
We have to understand that God so loved the world that He gave His only Son, that whosoever believes in Him might not perish, but have eternal life.
Well, if God is with you, then what can you not withstand if you stay in His graces? Every single thing that you have can be stripped away, except for the love of a Father who went to extraordinary means to show us that love. And with that realization comes the understanding that nothing can hurt you.
And that is the beginning of freedom.
Thursday, September 16, 2004
September 16
Today's Readings
Today's Gospel reading includes the story of the harlot who washes Jesus' feet with her tears and wipes them with her hair. In the story, Jesus says to the Pharisee who objects that she loves much because she has been forgiven much.
We all have our list of things that we have done that make us blush. These are the things that, if people were to find out, they would not tolerate you or even look at you. They are the things that you might figure would keep you from God the entire time.
It is how we deal with these things that is the key to the entire puzzle. We have all sinned. We have all screwed up. We have all fallen short. The rock upon which we can be broken or elevated is how we deal with that. The promise of Jesus is that we are more than the sum of our failures. We are more than the sum of the hurts we have caused.
Freedom and the ability to love others flows from our ability to let go of those things that keep us from God. We are forgiven. We can let go of that crap that bogs us down. That is not to say that we aren't responsible. It is not to say that the freedom is cheap. On the contrary, it is very expensive. In order to let go of it, you must first understand it. And take ownership of it.
Denial of self includes the denial of the things that we hold dear to us that disfigure us. It includes letting go of those things that we have done that have hurt others and that hurt us as we blanche inside before our God and the realization of how we have fallen short.
We cannot truly love others and show them freedom until we are free ourselves.
Today's Gospel reading includes the story of the harlot who washes Jesus' feet with her tears and wipes them with her hair. In the story, Jesus says to the Pharisee who objects that she loves much because she has been forgiven much.
We all have our list of things that we have done that make us blush. These are the things that, if people were to find out, they would not tolerate you or even look at you. They are the things that you might figure would keep you from God the entire time.
It is how we deal with these things that is the key to the entire puzzle. We have all sinned. We have all screwed up. We have all fallen short. The rock upon which we can be broken or elevated is how we deal with that. The promise of Jesus is that we are more than the sum of our failures. We are more than the sum of the hurts we have caused.
Freedom and the ability to love others flows from our ability to let go of those things that keep us from God. We are forgiven. We can let go of that crap that bogs us down. That is not to say that we aren't responsible. It is not to say that the freedom is cheap. On the contrary, it is very expensive. In order to let go of it, you must first understand it. And take ownership of it.
Denial of self includes the denial of the things that we hold dear to us that disfigure us. It includes letting go of those things that we have done that have hurt others and that hurt us as we blanche inside before our God and the realization of how we have fallen short.
We cannot truly love others and show them freedom until we are free ourselves.
Wednesday, September 15, 2004
September 15
Love is patient, love is kind.
It is not jealous, love is not pompous,
it is not inflated, it is not rude,
it does not seek its own interests,
it is not quick-tempered, it does not brood over injury,
it does not rejoice over wrongdoing
but rejoices with the truth.
It bears all things, believes all things,
hopes all things, endures all things.
This is what we are called to be. These are the characteristics we are called to have. Ironically, it is in these characteristics that we wind up having the most freedom.
Tuesday, September 14, 2004
September 14
How can we be free when we have built our own prisons?
I am faced, lately, with a prison made up of my own actions. The things I have done, some of them little and some of them not so little, have come together to show me my worst. I have made some awful mistakes. I have been selfish at times and let down the people who have counted on me.
We cannot have a society without responsibility. Yet we cannot have a society without redemption, either. It is a basic Christian concept that no one is worthy, not even one. And that's true. No matter how good you think you are, at some point, you will have realizations that cut you to the bone because you know it represents the worst of you and you know it is true.
But it is also a basic Christian concept that each person is fearfully and wonderfully made in the Creator's image. No matter how bad you think you are, at some point, you will have the realization that you have done something wonderful. Yet, how many time have you rejoiced over your accomplishments and triumphs?
Freedom lies in combination of responsibility and redemption. And redemption is ours, if we avail ourselves of it. It's all up to us, regardless of whether or not we are Christian. If you are Christian, then it is accepting the forgiveness of a loving God, no strings attached. No groveling. No crawling along the ground. No self-flagellation.
If you are not Christian, then it's a change of perspective. It's a change of the way you perceive yourself. Freedom is not attained by ignoring your infirmities. It is attained by understanding that you are not the sum of your failures. It is attained by starting to understand your power and your ability to do good things that will transcend yourself and transform others.
I am faced, lately, with a prison made up of my own actions. The things I have done, some of them little and some of them not so little, have come together to show me my worst. I have made some awful mistakes. I have been selfish at times and let down the people who have counted on me.
We cannot have a society without responsibility. Yet we cannot have a society without redemption, either. It is a basic Christian concept that no one is worthy, not even one. And that's true. No matter how good you think you are, at some point, you will have realizations that cut you to the bone because you know it represents the worst of you and you know it is true.
But it is also a basic Christian concept that each person is fearfully and wonderfully made in the Creator's image. No matter how bad you think you are, at some point, you will have the realization that you have done something wonderful. Yet, how many time have you rejoiced over your accomplishments and triumphs?
Freedom lies in combination of responsibility and redemption. And redemption is ours, if we avail ourselves of it. It's all up to us, regardless of whether or not we are Christian. If you are Christian, then it is accepting the forgiveness of a loving God, no strings attached. No groveling. No crawling along the ground. No self-flagellation.
If you are not Christian, then it's a change of perspective. It's a change of the way you perceive yourself. Freedom is not attained by ignoring your infirmities. It is attained by understanding that you are not the sum of your failures. It is attained by starting to understand your power and your ability to do good things that will transcend yourself and transform others.
Monday, September 13, 2004
September 13
I'm rebranding this.
It's not just the daily readings, but other things as well. Mostly, though, I want to make this not self-involved, but other-involved.
I'm incredibly blessed and lucky. I have a wonderful wife, two great kids, a nice house, a steady job, and all kinds of other good things. There is nothing that is happening to me that someone else hasn't survived first.
So if I am not the key to the universe, what is, then? Well, all I have is my understanding, and a continuing quest to increase that understanding.
I think the key to the universe is other people. It's an area that people typically botch to one degree or another, and one of the major drawbacks of our being. We screw stuff up and never let go of the bad effects on others or ourselves.
You have to be responsible, but you also have to be free. Otherwise, we are too defined by our failures, but if we are fearfully and wonderfully made, aren't we more than those failures.
I own a crapload of failure. I have screwed up enough to build a really high mountain. But there is more to it than that. I also have a great ability to do good things, as well. I have been blessed with a remarkable amount of talent and, when I choose to use it, a really soft heart.
Redemption isn't just something that allows us to feel good and to dodge whatever our latest mess is, it is the key to learning and doing more than surviving. It is the key to a rich and vibrant life.
It's not just the daily readings, but other things as well. Mostly, though, I want to make this not self-involved, but other-involved.
I'm incredibly blessed and lucky. I have a wonderful wife, two great kids, a nice house, a steady job, and all kinds of other good things. There is nothing that is happening to me that someone else hasn't survived first.
So if I am not the key to the universe, what is, then? Well, all I have is my understanding, and a continuing quest to increase that understanding.
I think the key to the universe is other people. It's an area that people typically botch to one degree or another, and one of the major drawbacks of our being. We screw stuff up and never let go of the bad effects on others or ourselves.
You have to be responsible, but you also have to be free. Otherwise, we are too defined by our failures, but if we are fearfully and wonderfully made, aren't we more than those failures.
I own a crapload of failure. I have screwed up enough to build a really high mountain. But there is more to it than that. I also have a great ability to do good things, as well. I have been blessed with a remarkable amount of talent and, when I choose to use it, a really soft heart.
Redemption isn't just something that allows us to feel good and to dodge whatever our latest mess is, it is the key to learning and doing more than surviving. It is the key to a rich and vibrant life.
Sunday, August 15, 2004
Daily Readings, August 13, 2004
Today's Readings
As I would normally have written this, I was busy trying to build plywood to cover the windows in my back yard. The yard has a wooden fence that could become a missile base in the winds that come with a category-four hurricane.
As I write this, we have been spared, but our brothers and sisters an hour south of here have not. Last Thanksgiving, we went camping at a site in Arcadia, Florida. Arcadia is a poor area, inland from the beaches and far enough from Orlando that it's not a tourist mecca. It is inhabited by the poor, including migrant farm workers during the winter. Downtown is attempting to come back. It includes a number of small businesses, including an Hispanic grocery that appeared to do a great business as I drove by.
If the limited pictures of downtown Arcadia are indicative of the entire force of Charley, the Hispanic grocery is gone. So is the pleasant-looking family restaurant. And the garage. And the Eckard's drug store whose modern architecture stood in such contrast to the rest of downtown. So are the one-story apartments further up the road. They appeared to be primarily made of wood.
Friday morning, before the storm turned, I wondered what it was like to be hunkered down as the wrath of God's nature unleashed itself on your house. I wondered how fragile the shell around us would feel as the world exploded outside. We never found out. And for that I am both thankful and sad. We had more time to prepare.
Still, the following passage rings true to me today...
God indeed is my savior;
I am confident and unafraid.
My strength and my courage is the LORD,
and he has been my savior.
My strength and courage is the Lord. That's what we have when nothing else is left. And for so many people Friday, that's all there was as the world exploded around them. The newspaper accounts talk of noise so loud that people didn't hear trees falling on their houses. Noises so loud that they had headaches from it when the storm subsided.
When you are wrapped around each other in fear that your shell will be yanked up from around you, leaving you to fend for yourself in the tumult, that's when all you have is God.
I can't imagine.
As I would normally have written this, I was busy trying to build plywood to cover the windows in my back yard. The yard has a wooden fence that could become a missile base in the winds that come with a category-four hurricane.
As I write this, we have been spared, but our brothers and sisters an hour south of here have not. Last Thanksgiving, we went camping at a site in Arcadia, Florida. Arcadia is a poor area, inland from the beaches and far enough from Orlando that it's not a tourist mecca. It is inhabited by the poor, including migrant farm workers during the winter. Downtown is attempting to come back. It includes a number of small businesses, including an Hispanic grocery that appeared to do a great business as I drove by.
If the limited pictures of downtown Arcadia are indicative of the entire force of Charley, the Hispanic grocery is gone. So is the pleasant-looking family restaurant. And the garage. And the Eckard's drug store whose modern architecture stood in such contrast to the rest of downtown. So are the one-story apartments further up the road. They appeared to be primarily made of wood.
Friday morning, before the storm turned, I wondered what it was like to be hunkered down as the wrath of God's nature unleashed itself on your house. I wondered how fragile the shell around us would feel as the world exploded outside. We never found out. And for that I am both thankful and sad. We had more time to prepare.
Still, the following passage rings true to me today...
God indeed is my savior;
I am confident and unafraid.
My strength and my courage is the LORD,
and he has been my savior.
My strength and courage is the Lord. That's what we have when nothing else is left. And for so many people Friday, that's all there was as the world exploded around them. The newspaper accounts talk of noise so loud that people didn't hear trees falling on their houses. Noises so loud that they had headaches from it when the storm subsided.
When you are wrapped around each other in fear that your shell will be yanked up from around you, leaving you to fend for yourself in the tumult, that's when all you have is God.
I can't imagine.
Wednesday, August 11, 2004
Daily Readings, August 12, 2004
Today's readings
The Gospel tells us that if we don't forgive the little things thare are done against us on earth, that the Lord, our Father, will not forgive the big things that we do against Him. It is for that reason that I try my hardest not to condemn others. I have been forgiven much.
So the Gospel has a lot of resonance. I still fail, of course, but my goal is not to be the slave in this parable.
But how does the parable relate to the first reading, which does not speak of God's forgiveness, but of a stern and unforgiving God, willing to punish His people when they fall short?
Well, in what way did they fall short? According to Scripture, they worshipped other gods, rather than the Father, who had treated them so well. But why is God jealous of their attention? After all, He is God. He doesn't need the Israelites. It is not loving and compassionate to turn someone's life to crap because they follow someone else.
But maybe it is not God who is turning their life to crap. Maybe it is them and the result of their free will. Maybe it is not God causing them to go into exile, maybe it is the result of their actions.
Maybe we have it all wrong. If we have free will, then we need to be allowed to exercise that free will and face its consequences. A God who continually follows us around and cleans up our messes is not God at all, but is a servant, someone we command to help us. But by God allowing us free will and allowing us its consequences, He allows us to face those consequences.
And maybe part of the consequence of not following God is, at least sometimes, not showing forgiveness to our brothers and sisters.
Now don't get me wrong, when we offer forgiveness, it has to be meaningful. That means that if someone does something the leaves substantial hurt, it is not realistic to expect the victim to turn around and pretend it never happened. All too often, we expect a cheap forgiveness given by the victim without allowing them to consider the circumstance and deal with their own grief and hurt first.
Real forgiveness comes from the heart and it comes with more than words. It comes with hugs and a restoration of affection for the target. It is a restoration of what was before. To make that real, the victim must be allowed to get to the point of forgiveness.
But we are required to do our best to get to that point. The call to forgiveness is not a call to dispense a quick feel-good response. It is a call for a change of heart from a righteous anger to a loving touch. Jesus did that. But He was Jesus. We are supposed to try to match that standard, but as much as Jesus was man, He was also God and God's standard is above ours and typically out of reach.
The main warning though, is against the hardness and bitterness that can come from nursing a long-time hurt. That doesn't help the person against which we hold our antogonism, but it also hurts us and prevents us from attaining the peace that God designed us to pursue and to sometimes attain.
The Gospel tells us that if we don't forgive the little things thare are done against us on earth, that the Lord, our Father, will not forgive the big things that we do against Him. It is for that reason that I try my hardest not to condemn others. I have been forgiven much.
So the Gospel has a lot of resonance. I still fail, of course, but my goal is not to be the slave in this parable.
But how does the parable relate to the first reading, which does not speak of God's forgiveness, but of a stern and unforgiving God, willing to punish His people when they fall short?
Well, in what way did they fall short? According to Scripture, they worshipped other gods, rather than the Father, who had treated them so well. But why is God jealous of their attention? After all, He is God. He doesn't need the Israelites. It is not loving and compassionate to turn someone's life to crap because they follow someone else.
But maybe it is not God who is turning their life to crap. Maybe it is them and the result of their free will. Maybe it is not God causing them to go into exile, maybe it is the result of their actions.
Maybe we have it all wrong. If we have free will, then we need to be allowed to exercise that free will and face its consequences. A God who continually follows us around and cleans up our messes is not God at all, but is a servant, someone we command to help us. But by God allowing us free will and allowing us its consequences, He allows us to face those consequences.
And maybe part of the consequence of not following God is, at least sometimes, not showing forgiveness to our brothers and sisters.
Now don't get me wrong, when we offer forgiveness, it has to be meaningful. That means that if someone does something the leaves substantial hurt, it is not realistic to expect the victim to turn around and pretend it never happened. All too often, we expect a cheap forgiveness given by the victim without allowing them to consider the circumstance and deal with their own grief and hurt first.
Real forgiveness comes from the heart and it comes with more than words. It comes with hugs and a restoration of affection for the target. It is a restoration of what was before. To make that real, the victim must be allowed to get to the point of forgiveness.
But we are required to do our best to get to that point. The call to forgiveness is not a call to dispense a quick feel-good response. It is a call for a change of heart from a righteous anger to a loving touch. Jesus did that. But He was Jesus. We are supposed to try to match that standard, but as much as Jesus was man, He was also God and God's standard is above ours and typically out of reach.
The main warning though, is against the hardness and bitterness that can come from nursing a long-time hurt. That doesn't help the person against which we hold our antogonism, but it also hurts us and prevents us from attaining the peace that God designed us to pursue and to sometimes attain.
Tuesday, August 10, 2004
Daily Readings, August 11, 2004
Today's readings
If you read the Bible from cover to cover and you really think about the material in there, some of it is pretty hard. The passages about social justice and selling all that you have to give to the poor are hard. And so are the posts about the angry, jealous God so often brought forth in the Old Testament.
Depending on your frame of mind, reading some of the prophecy books of the Old Testament can be positively disheartening. After all, the Isrealites were screw-ups...just like us, and God passed down upon them harsh punishment, sometimes after a seemingly small amount of chance to seek forgiveness.
This is one such example. In the first reading, God is striking down everyone who does not grieve at the abominations done by their countrymen. They didn't have to actually participate in the abomination, all they had to do is to not grieve over it.
Sometimes, we get this reading in the Old Testament, but it is balanced by the New Testament or Gospel reading. Not today.
Today, Jesus tells the disciples that they can bind peoples' sins to them on earth and they will be bound in heaven. He is saying that your brother has three chances to clean up his act, then you can shun him. He is saying that if two of you agree on something, it shall be done.
Those are scary passages, particularly in light of the Old Testament reading, which includes the order to not "look on them with pity nor show any mercy!"
If anyone is deserving of such punishment, it is I. Not currently, but in the past. I have been a stiff-necked person, and fortunately for me, I have had a lot of chances to put it right and I have finally--more or less--started to move in the right direction.
But the Old Testament tells us that those who did not were to be struck down, even if they were children!
So how do you reconcile this with Abba, Father?
I don't know how. God is not safe, but He is good. And He requires that we seek forgiveness, and then live according to our heritage as His children, or at least to do our best. I believe (and this is not a universal belief) that you can lose your salvation. I also believe that God will give you every opportunity. I mean, if He is God and nothing is impossible for Him, perhaps we even get more opportunities at the moment of death or even after.
But the key to this passage is that we just don't know. And as a result, we need to treat our salvation relatively seriously.
That is not to say the fear should be the primary motivator. For me, it was just the fact that nothing else worked. And that fact has been re-enforced year after year since I realized it. But coming to the conclusion is an important thing. It is important because, at least in my experience, a life lived seeking what God wants is a life of higher quality. It is also important because it is likely that not everyone will be there in Heaven.
But while this can be a bitter pill for a believer to swallow, it can be an absolute barrier to any additional consideration for a non-believer. That's why, at least in my opinion, you need to use such a message sparingly with non-believers.
Evangelism is marketing. You are trying to get consumers in the spiritual marketplace to buy what you are selling. And you cannot do that with threats of eternal damnation.
So while the Bible does say the things in today's readings, it might be wise not to lead when them when we address people searching for a spiritual answer.
If you read the Bible from cover to cover and you really think about the material in there, some of it is pretty hard. The passages about social justice and selling all that you have to give to the poor are hard. And so are the posts about the angry, jealous God so often brought forth in the Old Testament.
Depending on your frame of mind, reading some of the prophecy books of the Old Testament can be positively disheartening. After all, the Isrealites were screw-ups...just like us, and God passed down upon them harsh punishment, sometimes after a seemingly small amount of chance to seek forgiveness.
This is one such example. In the first reading, God is striking down everyone who does not grieve at the abominations done by their countrymen. They didn't have to actually participate in the abomination, all they had to do is to not grieve over it.
Sometimes, we get this reading in the Old Testament, but it is balanced by the New Testament or Gospel reading. Not today.
Today, Jesus tells the disciples that they can bind peoples' sins to them on earth and they will be bound in heaven. He is saying that your brother has three chances to clean up his act, then you can shun him. He is saying that if two of you agree on something, it shall be done.
Those are scary passages, particularly in light of the Old Testament reading, which includes the order to not "look on them with pity nor show any mercy!"
If anyone is deserving of such punishment, it is I. Not currently, but in the past. I have been a stiff-necked person, and fortunately for me, I have had a lot of chances to put it right and I have finally--more or less--started to move in the right direction.
But the Old Testament tells us that those who did not were to be struck down, even if they were children!
So how do you reconcile this with Abba, Father?
I don't know how. God is not safe, but He is good. And He requires that we seek forgiveness, and then live according to our heritage as His children, or at least to do our best. I believe (and this is not a universal belief) that you can lose your salvation. I also believe that God will give you every opportunity. I mean, if He is God and nothing is impossible for Him, perhaps we even get more opportunities at the moment of death or even after.
But the key to this passage is that we just don't know. And as a result, we need to treat our salvation relatively seriously.
That is not to say the fear should be the primary motivator. For me, it was just the fact that nothing else worked. And that fact has been re-enforced year after year since I realized it. But coming to the conclusion is an important thing. It is important because, at least in my experience, a life lived seeking what God wants is a life of higher quality. It is also important because it is likely that not everyone will be there in Heaven.
But while this can be a bitter pill for a believer to swallow, it can be an absolute barrier to any additional consideration for a non-believer. That's why, at least in my opinion, you need to use such a message sparingly with non-believers.
Evangelism is marketing. You are trying to get consumers in the spiritual marketplace to buy what you are selling. And you cannot do that with threats of eternal damnation.
So while the Bible does say the things in today's readings, it might be wise not to lead when them when we address people searching for a spiritual answer.
Monday, August 09, 2004
Daily Readings, August 10, 2004
Today's Readings
Whoever sows sparingly will reap sparingly. In many ways, this is a statement about stinginess and greed, and that is certainly a valid and appropriate interpretation for this reading. A couple Sundays ago, the Gospel was about a man who built a new barn so he could store away more than what he needed for himself...then died. He did not benefit from his hoarding and neither did anyone else.
But as much as this is about material things, it can also be interpreted more broadly and be more of a metaphor for how we live life. We all know people who are able to live to the fullest...who have a great attitude and are always figuring out a way to accomplish something new and fantastic. They are the ones who, when they die, have wakes filled both with sorrow, but with laughter and appreciation at what they have done in life.
They are the ones who are with you when it is hard to be and who are always willing to take on the challenges, even the though ones, when God calls them forward. They reap generously and their lives are generously adorned in return.
The Bible is pretty clear on how we are supposed to behave: we are supposed to rejoice! Rejoice in the Lord; I say it again, rejoice! This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.
It doesn't say that we should rejoice in the Lord unless we are having a crappy day. Or that this is the day that the Lord has made unless something bad happens. And the people who live to sow generously know this. They don't have to work at knowing it; they just know it.
These people do what they are supposed to without sadness or compulsion. They are cheeful givers not because they have to be, but because that is who they are. And in their giving, they receive as much as they give and more because God has graced them with the peace that exceeds all understanding.
In the Gospel reading, Jesus says something that seems to be unrelated...that unless a seed falls to the ground and dies, it will not produce fruit. This is obviously a prophecy about Him. But it is also a prophecy about us.
If you think about it, what is the willingness to take on what the Lord has given to us and do so while rejoicing, if it is not dying to self? That phrase gets used a lot and it often reads like a description of Lent. I don't want to give up chocolate, but I have to because it is Lent, so similarly, I have to give up everything I like and live miserably.
Wrong! That is not rejoicing. It is not necessarily sin to have air conditioning or a second TV or high-speed internet. But you need to do the work and go through the discernment process and make sure that's what God wants for you.
The bottom line is that the Father, the Author of the universe, will honor us if we serve Him. Imagine that! Imagine God honoring us! Even better, imagine the hope and honor that we can bring to others just by being what He wants us to be.
Whoever sows sparingly will reap sparingly. In many ways, this is a statement about stinginess and greed, and that is certainly a valid and appropriate interpretation for this reading. A couple Sundays ago, the Gospel was about a man who built a new barn so he could store away more than what he needed for himself...then died. He did not benefit from his hoarding and neither did anyone else.
But as much as this is about material things, it can also be interpreted more broadly and be more of a metaphor for how we live life. We all know people who are able to live to the fullest...who have a great attitude and are always figuring out a way to accomplish something new and fantastic. They are the ones who, when they die, have wakes filled both with sorrow, but with laughter and appreciation at what they have done in life.
They are the ones who are with you when it is hard to be and who are always willing to take on the challenges, even the though ones, when God calls them forward. They reap generously and their lives are generously adorned in return.
The Bible is pretty clear on how we are supposed to behave: we are supposed to rejoice! Rejoice in the Lord; I say it again, rejoice! This is the day the Lord has made, let us rejoice and be glad in it.
It doesn't say that we should rejoice in the Lord unless we are having a crappy day. Or that this is the day that the Lord has made unless something bad happens. And the people who live to sow generously know this. They don't have to work at knowing it; they just know it.
These people do what they are supposed to without sadness or compulsion. They are cheeful givers not because they have to be, but because that is who they are. And in their giving, they receive as much as they give and more because God has graced them with the peace that exceeds all understanding.
In the Gospel reading, Jesus says something that seems to be unrelated...that unless a seed falls to the ground and dies, it will not produce fruit. This is obviously a prophecy about Him. But it is also a prophecy about us.
If you think about it, what is the willingness to take on what the Lord has given to us and do so while rejoicing, if it is not dying to self? That phrase gets used a lot and it often reads like a description of Lent. I don't want to give up chocolate, but I have to because it is Lent, so similarly, I have to give up everything I like and live miserably.
Wrong! That is not rejoicing. It is not necessarily sin to have air conditioning or a second TV or high-speed internet. But you need to do the work and go through the discernment process and make sure that's what God wants for you.
The bottom line is that the Father, the Author of the universe, will honor us if we serve Him. Imagine that! Imagine God honoring us! Even better, imagine the hope and honor that we can bring to others just by being what He wants us to be.
Sunday, August 08, 2004
Daily Readings, August 9, 2004
Today's Readings
There are a lot of visions of God in the Bible. Many of them, like the one in today's reading from Ezekiel, are filled with light and fury, like something out of the X-Files or Close Encounters of the Third Kind. And then some, like the time God was in the whisper, rather than the storm and tumult.
God is magnificent. He is truly beyond our ability to comprehend...too big and too multi-dimensional for us to fit in our minds. One of the reasons that there are so many arguments about God is that we tend to take our own view, which could be true, but is almost definitely not complete, and use it to discredit the views of others. The bottom line is that we just don't know. We are seeing God from around the corner, and anyone who has gone around the corner cannot come back to validate our views.
So we have a set of vague glimpses of God.
So which is He? Is He the God of special effects and dazzling light shows or the God or a quiet springtime shower in the wooded glade? Is He the God of the roaring surf or the surreal quiet of a heavy snow storm in the woods? Is He the God of love, a warm Daddy who wants us to sit in His lap or is He the angry and jealous God who demands our attention?
Maybe He is none of these things, or all of them.
When Moses gave the law to the people, one of the things he was recorded as having said is that you are supposed to talk about these things when you get up or sit down or go in or go out, in short, we are supposed to think about them and talk about them, because they are supposed to matter. And each of us will see God from our own unique position in the world. I have often thought that our vision of God will drive the type of person we become as we go through time.
A Bible teacher that I sometimes listen to is fond of quoting Aslan the lion from C. S. Lewis. Aslan is asked by one of the other characters if he is safe. "No," he answers, "but I am good."
God is not safe. But He is good. And that is a scary thing for us because we are not good. We try and maybe have good intentions, but we are also flawed, and the goodness that we seem to have a firm hold on one second, has turned to vapor by the next. So the comtemplation of God...His sheer size and goodness...ought to be intimidating. He is like nothing we have ever seen.
But in the end, when we need him, when our hearts are broken and it feels that we will explode if we go on one more step, He will be there. We may not see it at the time. We may be blinded by our anguish or worry or pain or anger, but He is there, never leaving us alone. And He loves us, as He has told us.
So maybe it doesn't matter if He is the God of special effects or the God of a whisper, as long as He is our God and we are His people.
There are a lot of visions of God in the Bible. Many of them, like the one in today's reading from Ezekiel, are filled with light and fury, like something out of the X-Files or Close Encounters of the Third Kind. And then some, like the time God was in the whisper, rather than the storm and tumult.
God is magnificent. He is truly beyond our ability to comprehend...too big and too multi-dimensional for us to fit in our minds. One of the reasons that there are so many arguments about God is that we tend to take our own view, which could be true, but is almost definitely not complete, and use it to discredit the views of others. The bottom line is that we just don't know. We are seeing God from around the corner, and anyone who has gone around the corner cannot come back to validate our views.
So we have a set of vague glimpses of God.
So which is He? Is He the God of special effects and dazzling light shows or the God or a quiet springtime shower in the wooded glade? Is He the God of the roaring surf or the surreal quiet of a heavy snow storm in the woods? Is He the God of love, a warm Daddy who wants us to sit in His lap or is He the angry and jealous God who demands our attention?
Maybe He is none of these things, or all of them.
When Moses gave the law to the people, one of the things he was recorded as having said is that you are supposed to talk about these things when you get up or sit down or go in or go out, in short, we are supposed to think about them and talk about them, because they are supposed to matter. And each of us will see God from our own unique position in the world. I have often thought that our vision of God will drive the type of person we become as we go through time.
A Bible teacher that I sometimes listen to is fond of quoting Aslan the lion from C. S. Lewis. Aslan is asked by one of the other characters if he is safe. "No," he answers, "but I am good."
God is not safe. But He is good. And that is a scary thing for us because we are not good. We try and maybe have good intentions, but we are also flawed, and the goodness that we seem to have a firm hold on one second, has turned to vapor by the next. So the comtemplation of God...His sheer size and goodness...ought to be intimidating. He is like nothing we have ever seen.
But in the end, when we need him, when our hearts are broken and it feels that we will explode if we go on one more step, He will be there. We may not see it at the time. We may be blinded by our anguish or worry or pain or anger, but He is there, never leaving us alone. And He loves us, as He has told us.
So maybe it doesn't matter if He is the God of special effects or the God of a whisper, as long as He is our God and we are His people.
Daily Readings, August 8, 2004
Today's Readings
I am not educated in doing this, so when I get to readings like todays', I am reluctant, because I may do harm with them rather than good.
Today's readings are a call to a radical change and to a potentially difficult and unrewarding life. Abraham trusted in God and spent the vast majority of his life thirsting for a child. He got one in the end, and then was told by God to kill him. (It should be noted that child sacrifice was a pretty common thing in those days and the real message of the sacrifice of Isaac was to not sacrifice your children.)
Both the reading from the Letter to the Hebrews and the Gospel offer a hard message, as well. Sell all your belongings, the Gospel says. I wonder why, if the Gospel is to be believed as literal truth, why certain types of believers do not take that literally.
Are we supposed to literally do that? Or is their a figurative meaning here? The reading is pretty clear about what is expected, but again, it must be taken into context. If you have children, it is not appropriate for you to sell all your goods and be destitute. For the Bible also says that someone who believes and does not provide for his family is worse than a non-believer.
But the meaning of this Gospel reading cannot be dismissed. It's kind of like Survivor. We have certain gifts and things that we are given and it is up to use to make good use of them. Sure, we can build a giant mansion and a big fence and have parties and invite all of our friends and have fun. But what is left after that? Will the Master be happy when He comes back and finds that's what we've done?
Or, we could be like Mother Theresa and denounce our worldly possessions and move to the poorest part of the poorest city and minister to the poor by being one of them. So is that what we are all supposed to do?
The easy answer would be 'Yes!', but if we did that, who would produce the goods that are used to minister with? Who would provide the jobs to help the poor not to be poor again? Who would develop the medicines that help us prevent poverty by striking down so many of the diseases that formerly caused pandemics? Who would teach our children and protect us from those who wish to do us harm?
Again, the Bible must be taken into context. In other places, it speaks of the Christian community as the body of Christ and says that the body cannot all the be same part, or it stops being the body and starts being a six-foot tall, 240 pound armpit.
Each person is born into a different situation with different gifts. We have different experiences and different approaches. And when the day of judgement comes for us, the key will be how effective a steward we have been with that situation, those gifts, those experiences, and that approach. And not all of us are expected to be Mother Theresa.
Instead, we are expected to love God and our neighbors, do our best with what we have, and try again tomorrow.
But, there is a very clear warning to put our hearts in the right places. All too often, particularly in this country, our hearts become distracted. We hunger for things. I have done so myself. I hungered for a better car, one with air conditioning, one that was not leaky around the roof...both important things in Florida. It was reasonable for me to want those things.
But, my focus should not have been on trying to figure out how I could afford them, but on the One who provides without fail. He provided without fail for 19 months of my unemployment. And within a few months of our being employed again, he provided a way for us to replace my car.
But, if our hearts are in heaven, we will remember that the car is maybe not the primary thing. Helping others through the travails is more important.
A few weeks ago, Martha was getting upset because she was doing the work while Mary was sitting with Jesus. Jesus told her that Mary had chosen the more important thing, and it would not be taken from her.
Choosing the more important thing might be hard. It takes perserverence and discipline, and above all, a lot of prayer. I haven't mastered it yet.
I am not educated in doing this, so when I get to readings like todays', I am reluctant, because I may do harm with them rather than good.
Today's readings are a call to a radical change and to a potentially difficult and unrewarding life. Abraham trusted in God and spent the vast majority of his life thirsting for a child. He got one in the end, and then was told by God to kill him. (It should be noted that child sacrifice was a pretty common thing in those days and the real message of the sacrifice of Isaac was to not sacrifice your children.)
Both the reading from the Letter to the Hebrews and the Gospel offer a hard message, as well. Sell all your belongings, the Gospel says. I wonder why, if the Gospel is to be believed as literal truth, why certain types of believers do not take that literally.
Are we supposed to literally do that? Or is their a figurative meaning here? The reading is pretty clear about what is expected, but again, it must be taken into context. If you have children, it is not appropriate for you to sell all your goods and be destitute. For the Bible also says that someone who believes and does not provide for his family is worse than a non-believer.
But the meaning of this Gospel reading cannot be dismissed. It's kind of like Survivor. We have certain gifts and things that we are given and it is up to use to make good use of them. Sure, we can build a giant mansion and a big fence and have parties and invite all of our friends and have fun. But what is left after that? Will the Master be happy when He comes back and finds that's what we've done?
Or, we could be like Mother Theresa and denounce our worldly possessions and move to the poorest part of the poorest city and minister to the poor by being one of them. So is that what we are all supposed to do?
The easy answer would be 'Yes!', but if we did that, who would produce the goods that are used to minister with? Who would provide the jobs to help the poor not to be poor again? Who would develop the medicines that help us prevent poverty by striking down so many of the diseases that formerly caused pandemics? Who would teach our children and protect us from those who wish to do us harm?
Again, the Bible must be taken into context. In other places, it speaks of the Christian community as the body of Christ and says that the body cannot all the be same part, or it stops being the body and starts being a six-foot tall, 240 pound armpit.
Each person is born into a different situation with different gifts. We have different experiences and different approaches. And when the day of judgement comes for us, the key will be how effective a steward we have been with that situation, those gifts, those experiences, and that approach. And not all of us are expected to be Mother Theresa.
Instead, we are expected to love God and our neighbors, do our best with what we have, and try again tomorrow.
But, there is a very clear warning to put our hearts in the right places. All too often, particularly in this country, our hearts become distracted. We hunger for things. I have done so myself. I hungered for a better car, one with air conditioning, one that was not leaky around the roof...both important things in Florida. It was reasonable for me to want those things.
But, my focus should not have been on trying to figure out how I could afford them, but on the One who provides without fail. He provided without fail for 19 months of my unemployment. And within a few months of our being employed again, he provided a way for us to replace my car.
But, if our hearts are in heaven, we will remember that the car is maybe not the primary thing. Helping others through the travails is more important.
A few weeks ago, Martha was getting upset because she was doing the work while Mary was sitting with Jesus. Jesus told her that Mary had chosen the more important thing, and it would not be taken from her.
Choosing the more important thing might be hard. It takes perserverence and discipline, and above all, a lot of prayer. I haven't mastered it yet.
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