The Tax Man Cometh…

This is my least favorite time of year. I dread Tax Day with a passion, mostly because we are pathetic in our record keeping. So every year, I have to recreate the previous year’s financial activity so I can file my taxes. It’s painful, and causes no small amount of stress in our marriage. But… tetelestai … it is finished… paid in full (actually, I’m getting a refund :). But reflecting on these things, I offer the following.

Show me the coin used for paying the tax.” They brought him a denarius, and he asked them, “Whose image is this? And whose inscription?”
“Caesar’s,” they replied.
Then he said to them, “So give back to Caesar what is Caesar’s, and to God what is God’s.”
Matthew 22:19-21

I play computer games on-line (a LOT). One of the things I find appealing is the social aspect of working together as a team to accomplish a goal. When a group “clicks”, it’s very satisfying. And… I like to blow things up.

But there are the other people on-line. The folks who need to hear themselves talk to validate their self-worth. Mostly, I ignore them, but on occasion I feed the trolls and engage in… interesting… conversations.

One particular player I’m thinking of is a piece of work. He tries to validate himself by bragging about his sexual conquests, making lame, degrading jokes at other players’ expense, and similar middle-school fare. The only thing I can think about him is that he is playing the wrong game, by the wrong rules.

In the time of Jesus, the Jews were looking anxiously for a Messiah. Chafing under Roman rule, they longed for the glory days (at least the stories they had been told) of David and his kingdom, and Solomon, when Israel was a nation to be reckoned with. They were ready for the kingdom to be restored.

But Jesus didn’t quite fit their expectations, In fact, he threatened the status quo, and the leaders feared for their power. So they tried to set traps for him, to trick him into saying something that Rome would find offensive, so they could eliminate him and keep things the way that they were.

It was in this context that the experts in the law sought to trap Jesus by asking him if it was right to pay taxes to Caesar. Of course, someone who was trying to restore the kingdom of David would oppose the oppression of Rome. And someone who submitted to Rome would be rejected by the people. They had to be impressed by their cleverness.

But Jesus’ response, besides defeating their clever plans, exposed a whole other truth that they were not prepared to accept. They were playing the wrong game, by the wrong rules.

The kingdom of God is not of this world. Surely, God is sovereign, and his rule extends into this world. But the kingdom of Heaven that Jesus was proclaiming was not an earthly kingdom, and it is not measured by material things. People who chase after those things have missed the boat.

The kingdom of God is any place where God is honored, served, and worshiped as king and as lord. This earth, this world system, the power and authority structures, the wealth and all the things valued by men are all going to pass away. And those who chase after them are playing the wrong game. By the wrong rules.

Let Caesar have his due. It’s all going to burn anyway. But whoever lays up for himself treasures in heaven will not be disappointed.

Who You Gonna Call?

For we know that since Christ was raised from the dead, he cannot die again; death no longer has mastery over him.
Romans 6:9

I live with a fair amount of physical limitation. I can’t walk very far, or carry heavy objects (except on my back … the back is a wonderful burden bearer, but that is for another blog). And I can’t reach above my head. Because of this, my world is quite a bit smaller than most people’s. If it’s more than about 4 feet off the ground, it doesn’t exist for me, because there is nothing I can do about it.

Then there are the things that I can do, I should do, on some level I want to do, but that I just don’t do. My desk is an example of this. It is covered with papers that need some attention and disposition. I know what to do with each and every one of them, but I just don’t. In some respects, I can’t. No one can help me with this, and I don’t want to be reminded of my failures, so I put it out of my mind. I defend my failure by calling it a “vertical filing system” but I know better. I live in despair of my desk.

So when my daughter noticed the mold on the ceiling, my immediate thought was, “above 4 feet, it doesn’t exist”. A couple of days later, when my wife noticed it, I took the desk approach. “We probably need to get that taken care of.” She said that she was capable of cutting it out, and we let it go. A problem deferred is a problem solved.

A couple of days later I thought it was getting bigger, so I said to my wife that we really need to do something about that, sooner than later, and a remarkable thing happened: we did (and by we, I mean she got the mask and gloves and utility knife and plastic). When she started cutting into the drywall, it came off in pieces, clearly wet and damaged.

Once all the moldy parts were gone, we looked up into the hole and saw that the source of the water was a shiny copper pipe with the tell-tale bluish green of corrosion. We were not going to be able to deal with this on our own.

Fortunately, I have a friend who is a plumber (everyone should have a good plumber, auto mechanic, and small appliance repair guy). He knew just what to do, and he was able to come over, cut out the defective part and replace it with a good part and quality workmanship, and my leak was fixed.

There are a number of analogies that come to mind as I write this. The leaky pipe is the sin in my life. While it was originally designed and intended to fulfill a function, defects in the material or workmanship gradually caused it to be distorted in its function, just as the sin nature that I bear keeps me from completely reflecting the glory of God as I was created to do.

Sealed up in the drywall of the ceiling, the pipe dripped for some time, unnoticed. I can hide the sin in my life from others (and even myself) for a long time, by putting on my mask, pretending that everything is ok, or just taking a defensive “desk” attitude about it. Unfortunately, like the mold that ultimately erupted from behind the drywall, our sin will not stay hidden.

Sin is less about specific things that we do or don’t do than it is about a flawed nature that pits us in opposition to God, in rebellion against his ways and jealous for his glory. That is the root issue that needs addressing. The bad things we do are like the mold. If I just dealt with the mold and not the leak, the mold would certainly come back.

My plumber told me that mold never really dies, it just goes dormant. He said that mold needs three things to grow: food, moisture, and air. You can make it go dormant by treating it with a bleach solution, but if you don’t remove one of the three, it will come back. Similarly, even the redeemed retain a sin nature. If we feed it, it will flourish. That’s why we long for our ultimate redemption and new, heavenly bodies that are free from sin. In other words, God is going to remove the mold from our lives one day!

But the key point I wanted to make was that the only solution to this problem was to call upon someone who could deal with the root issue. I don’t have the knowledge or the ability to deal with plumbing issues. Who you call makes all the difference. There was no question but that I needed to call someone who had what I lack.

Asking for help requires humility and vulnerability. It is a declaration that I am not up to the task, I am limited, I am weak. Many of us have a hard time with it. You can probably think of a problem in your life is staring you in the face like my desk, or the mold on my ceiling. You know it needs dealing with, but you either pretend it will go away, or you roll up your sleeves and decide to fix it yourself, in your own strength. Either way, there is no chance that you will ever let someone know that you don’t have it covered.

But sin is a much bigger issue than a messy desk or a plumbing leak. Whether you take the “desk” approach of ignoring sin, or think in all your DIY glory that you can fix it yourself, the problem will only get worse until you call upon the name of Jesus and trust in his atoning death on the cross to save you from that which you cannot save yourself.

How did I know that my friend was able to fix my leak? Well, I didn’t really (until he did). But I know him, that he is a man of character and integrity, and I know he has been a Master Plumber for decades, and I’ve had some experiences with him fixing minor plumbing issues for me, so I chose to trust in him, that he could do what he said he could do. And frankly, I was desperate. I had no one else to call. I took a chance and he didn’t let me down. The next time I have a plumbing problem (there’s always a next time), I will have more experiences to draw upon, and I will have even greater confidence in him.

How do you know that Jesus is actually able to deal with your sin problem? Well, you won’t (until he does). But his resurrection from the dead is proof that when he cried out “paid in full” on the cross that it really was. So ultimately, you will have to trust him, that he can do what he says he can do. And frankly, you are desperate. There is no one else to call. What I do know is from my experience, Jesus has proven faithful in dealing with every problem I’ve taken to him. So the next time I need to deal with sin (there’s always a next time), I have greater confidence in him.

Now if you will excuse me, this desk isn’t going to clean itself…

Holy, Schmoly?

“Do not come any closer,” God said. “Take off your sandals, for the place where you are standing is holy ground.”
Exodus 3:5

Holy Week. Suddenly, I was struck by the oddity of that term. What makes a week holy?

In the Old Testament, there are two conflicting concepts, uncleanness and holiness. A number of things make a person ritually unclean simply by coming in contact with them. An unclean person was required to perform a cleansing ritual before coming into contact with others in the community or entering God’s presence to worship. The penalty for violating this requirement was steep, as God wanted his people to be very cognizant of how they were called apart, and to not take worship for granted.

The concept of uncleanness is intuitive to us. One time, a plumber friend was installing a new toilet for me. After he finished caulking around the base of the toilet, he washed off the excess caulk from his fingers in the toilet bowl. Even though I intellectually knew that the toilet had never been used, and was therefore “clean”, still inwardly I said “ewwww”. We know what toilets are used for and that they are therefore “unclean”.

On the other hand, the things in the temple, where God dwelt, were considered holy. The temple was surrounded by a wall, separating the building from the commotion of the rest of the city. Even this area was divided into different areas, the outermost area being as far as Gentiles and women could go. The next area was where men could go to offer sacrifices through the priests. In this place was the altar of sacrifice. Within the building was the Holy Place, where only the priests could go, to burn incense, care for the lamps, and replace the bread of the presence daily. Beyond that, separated by a thick curtain, was the Most Holy Place. Here, the presence of God dwelt between the cherubim on the ark of the covenant. Only the high priest could ever enter, and then only once a year to offer the blood of the atonement sacrifice. The holy things were set apart from the common things, and were not entered into lightly.

Through the sacrifices, we have a powerful picture of the power of holiness. Once an animal was killed, skinned, and cut into pieces, it was placed upon the altar to be burned. Because this altar was holy, dedicated to the sacrifices of Jehovah, anything that touched it was also holy. In fact, simply offering an animal to be sacrificed made it holy. The portion given to the priest was holy, and could only be eaten by members of the priest’s family who were ritually clean. The clay pot in which the priest’s portion was cooked was holy, and had to be broken after use, to ensure it could never be used for any other purpose.

Here is the mystery and the majesty. While touching a dead animal would make a man ritually unclean, the priest was able to kill and sacrifice an animal and rather than becoming unclean, the animal became holy. Coming into contact with uncleanness makes one unclean, but coming into contact with holiness makes one holy. Holiness is more powerful than uncleanness.

Just as the dirt on the side of the mountain around the burning bush was made holy by God’s presence, so this week, the week of the Passion, is made holy by the intersection of God’s presence with creation. The triumphal entry, the teaching in the temple courts, the last supper, the betrayal, crucifixion, and ultimately the resurrection were the final acts of the incarnate God fulfilling purposes set in place before the creation of the world.

The Passover Seder begins with the youngest child asking, “why is this night different from any other?” In other words, why is this night holy? The Seder goes on to tell the story of how God delivered the Israelites from Egypt in great power, and passed over their houses because of the sacrifice of blood that covered them. God’s power revealed to Israel makes that day holy.

But Passover is just a picture of what God was going to do through Jesus. The blood of the Passover lamb caused the angel of death to pass over the houses of the Israelites, delivering them from the death of the firstborn, but only those who put their faith in God and remained in the houses marked by blood were protected. In the same way, the blood of Jesus causes the judgement of God for sin to pass over those who put their faith in God by claiming it for forgiveness. The deliverance of Israel from Egypt pales in comparison to the deliverance of all mankind from the power of sin and death.

If God’s presence in the temple made it holy, and God’s purposes for the sacrifices made them holy, and God’s power at Passover makes it holy, then how much more is this week made holy by God’s presence in Jerusalem in the person of Jesus, his purposes revealed in his atoning death on the cross, and his power revealed through the resurrection? Yes, this week is indeed holy. Let us not enter into it lightly.

The Star of the Show

“You shall have no other gods before me.”
Exodus 20:3

We see the world through the flimsiest of lenses, constructed of our wishes, desires, and beliefs (but rarely constrained by reality). “All the world’s a stage,” begins one of William Shakespeare’s most famous monologues. We see ourselves as the star of the show performed on the stage of our minds, played out with the background narration of our self-talk.

Whether you are brash and arrogantly obnoxious (like me), or demurely self-deprecating, your thoughts and your actions betray the intrinsic ego-centricity that is the human condition. In your world, the spotlight shines steadily and unflinchingly upon your performance as the Star, surrounded by various supporting characters.

While this is the way I see myself, I am not the star of anyone else’s show. My illusions of my own significance were unceremoniously shattered when my son told me of his plans to get married. Of course, we were delighted and couldn’t wait to meet his intended. She did not disappoint, and is the most delightful and complimentary mate my son could have chosen. I found myself desperately wanting to know her, in the intimacy that introverts require, and in the way I know my own daughters, who have lived under my roof for most of their lives.

The harsh reality is, I’m just not that important in their world. When she looks at him, her eyes sparkle and there is barely room for anyone else on the stage. As much as I’d like to have a bigger part, it just wasn’t written for me. When I think the the relationship I have with my in-laws, and that of my wife with my family, I realize that I will, at best, have a minor supporting part in their play. And I’m humbled.

I shared this insight with my high-school daughter, and she really resonated with it. When you think of all the drama that makes up the high school experience (who likes whom, who said what, who did or didn’t do what), the reality is that we have a much smaller role on someone else’s stage than we think we do. They just don’t think about you nearly as much as you think they do. They don’t care what you wear, they don’t care what you say (unless it’s about them), and they don’t care what you think. They are much more preoccupied with their illusion of their own significance in your performance.

Now here is the rub. We actually are all players on God’s stage and He is the star of the show. As the saying goes, history is His story. When I think I’m the star, I sin against God. We tend to simply call it selfishness, but in reality it runs much deeper. I have become convinced that selfishness is the root of pretty much every sin. What did the serpent say in the Garden? “You will become like God…” Wanting to take God’s place was Lucifer/Satan’s rebellion; it is actually idolatry: worshipping the created thing instead of the creator.

Many people think the Ten Commandments are proscriptive, keeping us from doing what we want to do. In reality, they are a part of God’s blueprint for living. I have tried this God thing, and I’m not very good at it. So when I realize that I am a supporting player — dearly loved, bought with a great price, but not the star — I am freed from the pressure of trying to make everything turn out all right. Letting God be God is not a burden, it is liberating.

In my household, my wife and I have different roles. I make the money, and she spends it. It is an arrangement that exploits our strengths and minimizes our weaknesses. I have a skill that is very marketable, and she is a gifted shopper. If we tried to play each other’s part, it would not end well. I don’t shop, I buy (and I hate doing it); my wife despises rush hour traffic and workplace pressures. But when we each fulfill our role, play our part, together we make a successful household.

So it is in the spiritual realm. We each have a part to play, just not the main part. It has been said that the first two rules of human enlightenment are: there is a God; and you aren’t him. So stop trying to be.

Put the spotlight where it belongs. And walk in freedom.

For Theresa

What should you do then, brothers and sisters? When you come together, each one has a song, has a lesson, has a revelation, has a tongue, has an interpretation. Let all these things be done for the strengthening of the church.
1 Corinthians 14:26
In our Sunday School class, we were encouraged to write a personal psalm, as a different form of expression of our worship to God. As I pondered the concept, I realized that there are different kinds of psalms, written on different occasions and for different purposes. There are different styles, different voices, different moods. But one thing they have in common is a raw, earthy, visceral honesty about the things we face as we go though life on this earth. Unjust attacks by enemies, our own sin and guilt, wisdom on how to live godly lives, and simple, unfettered praise to God. So what would I write?
My neighbor is suffering from hyperemesis gravidarum, or HG. This is her second pregnancy, and her suffering was quite severe the first time. If anything, this time seems to be worse. The disease takes a heavy physical and emotional toll on her and everyone around her. Although there is joy in the expectation of a new baby, right now that is too abstract a thing to think about. So I wrote this, to give voice to pain and desperation. I hope it communicates to you.

The road is hard before me.
My way is steep and full of obstacles.
The rocks bruise and cut my feet.
My strength is gone.

My companions have forsaken me.
Each of them has fallen away in exhaustion.
My loved ones do not understand my sorrow.
They are little comfort to me.

I am encircled by betrayal
My own body fails me and turns against me.
Like an enemy camped around me
I am assaulted from every side.

I take no delight in my food.
It does not nourish me.
Oh that even water would refresh me.
The days bring me no joy.

But you, oh God, sustain me.
I have no other hope but you.
Your mercies are tender towards me
In you I find rest.

You are worthy of praise.
From the lips of babes and nursing infants
Your praises will be declared.
Even my own lips will praise you once again.

If you are suffering, don’t be afraid to cry out to God. Express the reality of your hurt, your anger, your suffering. He understands and he cares. And he will always be there to walk through each and every situation with you.
If you have a friend or loved one who is going through something you can’t comprehend, don’t try. I’ll tell you a secret. It’s actually much easier to be the one suffering than to watch one you love suffer. Don’t be afraid to endure the ugliness of another’s pain. Just be there. Let them know that, no matter what, you love and support them. Your presence means more than anything else, proving that you are not scared away by hurt, discomfort, or even bodily fluids.
As another friend said, we don’t know what the future holds, but we do know who holds the future. 

Right or Righteous?

We are all like one who is unclean,
all our so-called righteous acts are like a menstrual rag in your sight.
We all wither like a leaf;
our sins carry us away like the wind.
Isaiah 64:6

Anger is not a primary emotion. It is an expression of another, deeper feeling, such as disappointment, fear, hurt, etc. A powerful generator of anger in my life is offense against authority. When my kids fail to do what I tell them, I get angry. If someone were to break into my house and steal my stuff, I would get angry. And (being the spiritual guy that I am), when God’s laws are transgressed, I get angry.

Each one of us is motivated by our personal code of conduct, which fundamentally defines what is “right” and what is “wrong”. We act in accordance with this code, and while it is comprehensive, it is not necessarily consistent. That is, when I do something, it is “right” and when you do the same thing, it may be “wrong”. This is because what I decide is “right” is really defined by “what I want”. If you want the same thing, we are going to have a problem. Let me illustrate with an example.

Now, let me preface the following by stating up front that most drivers on the road today are idiots. At least, that’s my personal observation. I’ve heard that 70% of American drivers believe their skills are above average (and 82% of all statistics are made up).

I’m really annoyed by people in the right lane on the freeway who are going much slower than me but decide that they need to change lanes in front of me because someone in front of them is going too slow. In other words, their sense of “right” (I don’t want to be behind this slow car) impinges on my sense of “right” (I don’t want to be behind this slow car). In response to their offense against my code for the world (everyone should stay out of my way), I get angry.

The problem is that too many of us (or maybe it’s just me) have substituted our code for God’s. In effect, I put myself in the place of God. God does have a standard of right and wrong. And unlike you and me, God is objective, consistent, and impartial. Sin is sin, and it doesn’t matter who commits it.

But here’s the thing: being guilty is not the same as being condemned. Like the little kid whose face is covered with melted chocolate chips and cookie crumbs, our guilt before God is self-evident. Even, when we think we are doing good things, compared to the perfection that is God, our good is as disgusting as a used tampon (if my choice of words is shocking, consider that the Hebrew of the above verse is equally explicit).

Now, sometimes I (surely, I’m the only one) might point out the cookie crumbs on your face to deflect attention from the cookies falling out of my own pockets. After all, if you are guilty, then we can all focus on that and no one will pay attention to me. Or, as is popularly said today, “don’t judge me because I sin differently than you.” But this deflection misses the very crucial point.

The issue is not how we sin, it is that we sin. God’s standard of righteousness is utterly and absolutely pure. Any sin at all irreparably damages the whole. It is why James says “For the one who obeys the whole law but fails in one point has become guilty of all of it.” (James 2:10) And why Paul says “For the wages of sin is death” (Romans 6:23)

Since we are all hopelessly flawed, does God’s definition of right and wrong go out the window? Of course not. It was for this reason that Jesus came into the world, to deliver us from the power of sin and death. And rather than simply putting a bandaid on a severed artery (like I tend to do), God dealt with the issue at its source. The sin nature had to die, so that those who believe could be reborn as new creations.

There is much more to be said on that, and the new life in Christ is a prerequisite to even having this conversation, but it isn’t my point for this post. My point is that I need to set aside my personal code that has my self-interest at the center, and stop judging and holding people accountable to me, and instead live in whole-heartedly surrender to God’s new creation in me, living according to the new nature of “son of God” that has been given to me.

This is an evolving journey for me. A while ago, I was set free from the need to defend God. This means that when people transgress God’s law, or believe things contrary to his word, I don’t have the compulsion I used to have to make them agree. God is a big boy; he can defend himself. I am just a witness to the truth.

My next step has been to release anger, and not let the offenses of others rob me of the joy of my salvation. When I focus on the wrong suffered, my offense and anger are fueled. When in focus instead on all that I have been given in Christ, “these light momentary afflictions” pale in comparison. I’m still working on this.

Recently, God challenged me: “What would it look like if you released all judgement?” Meaning, rather than condemn the idiot in front of me for failing to drive in a manner conducive to my expeditious and impediment-free commute, I don’t even criticize their failings. This is a God-sized challenge for me, as anyone who has driven with me can attest.

What about you? Are you still intent on holding the world accountable to the law of “you”, where everyone is judged by your standards? Or have you humbled yourself before the holiness of God, to live your life according to his standards? I’ll tell you a little secret: being the judge of the universe is an exhausting job, and one for which you are not qualified. It is enough for me to just be obedient.

Father’s Day

One person considers one day more sacred than another; another considers every day alike. Each of them should be fully convinced in their own mind. Whoever regards one day as special does so to the Lord.
Romans 14:5-6

My wife left me today.

She hates when I do that. I took her to the airport in the middle of the night and said goodbye as she left for a two-week visit to see her parents and attend to her father as he recovers from hip-replacement surgery early this week. I’m actually exceptionally excited that she is spending this time with them. But I get ahead of myself.

Ordinarily, we would mark this day by buying some premium steaks and enjoying a family meal with my parents. This year, however, with my wife traveling, and my mother just coming off a two-week hospitalization, it just seemed best to put off the steaks. You see, it’s not really about the specific day, it’s about spending time together (plus, the steaks are really good!). This is not a new thing in our family. My birthday is perilously close to Mother’s Day, and we have been extremely flexible about when certain things are celebrated.

I’m not a big fan of celebrations. When we were first married, I suddenly found Valentine’s Day approaching, and decided that I should be proactive and set the bar low. I suggested to my wife that there is no reason why one day of the year should be considered “the” day to express love, just because the greeting card companies want to turn a buck. Surprisingly, she bought in to the idea. In fact, I had her so convinced that when I actually gave her a gift, it took a while before she realized what was happening.

I feel the same way about Mother’s Day and Father’s Day. I love my parents. I even like them. I certainly respect them. But they are at a stage of life where they don’t need me to give them any gifts. So what is the point of singling out one day of special honor?

Dr. Gary Chapman’s seminal work, “The 5 Love Languages” has had a profound effect on my understanding of giving and receiving love. It has helped me in my marriage to identify that my wife and I speak different languages, and it takes additional effort to speak in the other’s native expression. I don’t care that much about gifts. Nor am I overly attached to my family. If I were a Star Trek species, I’d probably be Klingon (the Worf kind, with human honor and dignity, rather than the villainous Klingons of Kirk’s era).

Somehow, God gave me a daughter who is all about family and gifts and such, and she takes special delight in finding and presenting the ideal gift to the people she cares about. I spent some time video calling her so she could watch me open the perfect gift she found for Father’s Day (great job, Bekah).

But when God said, “Honor your father and mother,” I have to think that it goes a bit deeper than just sending a card or a gift once a year. I saw this demonstrated by a couple of different men in ways that have made an indelible impression on me.

We were at a small church being pastored by a man not much older than I. His father had come to be his assistant pastor (a remarkable gift in itself; how many men can take a back seat to their son?), and he and his wife quickly because dearly loved by the congregation. Then one day, he announced his resignation because he said that they needed to be with his wife’s parents. He felt an obligation to care for them in their final days. Something about that (would you quit your job for YOUR in-laws?) just cried out “honor” to me, and I filed it away in the back of my mind.

Later, I watched my own father commute across the state of Texas (remember, everything is bigger in Texas, including the drives) to give his mother dignity as she lost her final battle to bone cancer. She died in her home, thanks to a wonderful friend and doctor who made house calls, and several others who provided terminal care. After the funeral, I watched him help his father make the transition to a retirement community nearby. He continued to commute across the state to care for his father for several more years until his death.

If there is one word to describe my father, it is “duty” … and “honor”. The two words that describe my dad are “duty” and “honor” … and “dignity”. Three words to describe my father are “duty”, “honor”, and “dignity” … and “faithful” … (enough of the Monty Python homage).

Now, I am nothing if not my father’s son. So my disdain for celebration is inherited, if not learned. The key thing is not the day, but the honor. Consequently, I have made a conscious decision to intentionally be engaged with my parents. I have to, because otherwise I would let life drive me along and fill my days with other stuff and suddenly I’d find that I had no time for them. Other people may not have a problem with that. Perhaps you are one who calls your parents every day. That’s great, but it’s not me. I asked each of my parents leading up to their respective days how they would like to be honored, and they both said that they already feel honored. I guess I must be doing something right.

In this same vein, I am anxious for my wife to be able to give her parents the gift of her presence, her love, and her care during a particularly trying time. It’s difficult to be removed by significant distance, and it takes some extra effort to ensure that your parents feel honored. But there can be no higher calling. I just don’t think anyone really understands just how happy I am that my wife left me today.

So here’s the thing. If this day is a big deal to you, then make it a BIG DEAL. Show your father how much he means to you. Celebrate him, cherish him, honor him. One of my friends just recently buried his father and this day is all the more poignant to him for the freshness of the loss.

If this day isn’t a big deal to you, just another day, then show your father how much he means to you. Celebrate him, cherish him, honor him. Because our fathers (and mothers) deserve to be honored every day. At least that’s what God said, so I’m going with that.

Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep

Let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And be thankful.
Colossians 3:15

Today, we were challenged to consider how to let peace rule in our hearts. As I thought about it, a vignette came to mind.

There was a terrible storm. The wind was blowing, the waves were crashing, and the small boat was in danger of going down. The men were experienced sailors, fishermen, who knew these waters well. And they feared for their lives. It was the antithesis of peaceful.

Yet, in the back of the boat a lone figure slept serenely. The noise of the wind and the storm did not disturb him. The pitching of the boat in the waves did not disrupt his rest. Even the soaking from the rain and the water coming over the bulwark did not rouse him from his slumber. He was the embodiment of peaceful.

Finally, when things looked to be their worst, the sailors woke the man in the back. “Teacher,” they said, “don’t you care if we drown?” On the surface, this would seem to be an odd interaction. They were the experienced sailors; this man was a carpenter. Surely he had nothing to offer to the immediate problem. On the other hand, misery loves company and perhaps they couldn’t stand to face their demise while someone else was peacefully oblivious.

Or maybe it was something else. Perhaps there was a glimmer of hope. They had seen this man do amazing things, miraculous things. Even though they were constantly perplexed by his teaching, they knew there was something special about this man.

He got up, rebuked the wind and said to the waves, “Quiet! Be still!” Then the wind died down and it was completely calm.
He said to his disciples, “Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?”
Mark 4:39-40

What I find odd about this story is that he rebuked them for their fear. Fear seems like a perfectly natural and appropriate response to a life-threatening storm. My dad, a career Naval officer, has a desk plaque with the Breton Fisherman’s Prayer: “Oh God, Thy sea is so great, and my boat is so small.” As a land-lubber myself, I can empathize with the sentiment here, but I have not actually experienced the vastness of the sea and the insignificance of my boat. But the men who live on the sea know its power and their impotence. Sailors have no illusion of taming the sea; they just hope to peacefully coexist with it until they can return safely to port.

Maybe you aren’t a sailor either, but there are raging storms that are threatening to shipwreck your life. Perhaps it is a life-threatening or chronically debilitating illness. Maybe it’s impending financial ruin, a wayward child or an unfaithful spouse. You look at the wind and the waves and you know you have done all that you can do, and it is never going to be enough. The boat is going down.

Fear is a perfectly natural, seemingly appropriate response to these situations. And yet, there is Jesus, asleep in the back of the boat. He is not concerned. What does he know that you don’t?

The difference I see in this story between Jesus and his disciples is that Jesus knew that his father’s will would prevail. He knew that he had a mission to complete and that dying in this boat was not a part of it. He also knew that all of heaven and earth was subject to the power of God. His knowing was not simply an intellectual self-persuasion exercise, it was a deeply rooted, experiential confidence and awareness of and in the very presence of God.

Our English words seem so weak to convey this point; in the King James Bible, it says “Adam knew his wife and she conceived.” In the same way (level, or degree) that Adam knew his wife physically, Jesus knew the Father spiritually. Trying to explain it another time, he said “I and the Father are one.”

Now, of course, I’m not Jesus and neither are you. I don’t (this side of heaven) have the level of intimacy, experience, or dare I say, faith that Jesus had. But I am learning. And neither do I know of a certainty what my mission here on earth is, when my end will come, or what it will look like. It may very well be that this storm actually will take me down. So instead of worrying about what I can’t control, I’m working on focusing on the one who is in control.

Peace rules in my heart as I consciously abandon myself into the care of my Lord. If I die, I die to his glory. If I lose it all, then so be it; “the just shall live by faith”. If my child or spouse or friend or even my enemy betrays me, I know that God will never leave me or forsake me. In the mean time, let’s get on about the business of the Kingdom, doing what I know that God has called me to do.

I think I’m going to take a nap.

Man’s Best Friend

“The one who enters by the gate is the shepherd of the sheep. The gatekeeper opens the gate for him, and the sheep listen to his voice. He calls his own sheep by name and leads them out. When he has brought out all his own, he goes on ahead of them, and his sheep follow him because they know his voice. But they will never follow a stranger; in fact, they will run away from him because they do not recognize a stranger’s voice.”
John 10:2-5

I realize that some people are not dog people. I don’t understand it, but I do accept it as true. Even if you don’t love dogs as I do, I hope this resonates with you.

Cesar Milan says that a dog needs to walk with his pack. It’s a primal urge, dating back to when dogs were wild and they followed the pack leader in search of food and water. I certainly see this today in my dog. My wife is the primary walker; she enjoys long walks and Max loves to go with her. When the weather is bad, or life just gets hectic, he starts to get a bit stir crazy. He’ll come and put his head in your lap and wag his tail and hope you can read his mind and will take him on a “you know what.” When my wife’s walking buddy pulls up in front of the house, he lets out an excited yelp and races to and fro until the harness has been attached and he gets to go out.

He also loves to go for car rides. I suppose it’s the modern equivalent of roaming for food. The funny thing is, the only place I ever take him is to the vet (not his favorite place), but he still eagerly bounds through the garage and into the minivan whenever I invite him to. He loves nothing more than to be with (or better yet, go with) his people.

It’s no wonder that dogs have earned the title, “man’s best friend.” No other creature loves so selflessly, so unconditionally, forgiving all offenses and defending their “pack” with their lives. They listen attentively for their master’s voice and respond quickly. (When Max is barking in the back yard at the neighbor’s dog, I utter a single “sssst” from the second story bathroom through a closed window and he turns, looks at me, and runs to the door to come in). They want nothing more than to share life with their people.

The funny thing is, God doesn’t call us his dogs. He calls us sheep.

There’s no good way to put this. Sheep are dumb. OK, maybe that’s not fair. People who raise sheep say that they are actually quite clever, able to open gates and cross cattle guards. However, their strong flocking instinct makes them prone to follow whatever is in front of them, even if that leads to their demise. They are stubborn, willful, defenseless, and directionless. They need a shepherd to guide and protect them, to lead them to green pastures, and lead them away before they decimate the vegetation (sheep will graze a pasture to its roots if left alone).

Modern shepherds often use dogs (yay, dogs!) to help herd the sheep and move them where they want them to go. The dogs race around the herd, nipping at their ankles and “encouraging” them to go where the shepherd wants them. However, in ancient times, the shepherd lived with the flock, day and night. He protected them from predators, led them to green pastures, and tended to their needs. Over time, the sheep grew to know the shepherd’s voice and when it was time to move, he simply walked and called and the sheep followed. The natural herding instinct, properly channeled, provided safety and provision.

The key thing is the time spent listening to and learning the shepherd’s voice. Jesus said that his sheep know his voice. Why? Because they have spent time in his presence. As Bob Dylan said, “You gotta serve somebody.” It’s the nature of sheep to follow. The only question is whom will you follow.

The simple truth is, you are not like a dog, whose heart is inexorably bound to his master. You are a sheep, prone to follow whomever is in front of you. Learn to hear the voice of the Good Shepherd through time in his presence and follow wherever he leads. It’s a lot better than walking off a cliff.

I See You

The Lord your God is with you,
    the Mighty Warrior who saves.
He will take great delight in you;
    in his love he will no longer rebuke you,
    but will rejoice over you with singing.
Zephaniah 3:17

“I see you.” This line is a linchpin to the plot line of the movie Avatar. It conveys more than just acknowledgement of image recognition from the ocular receptors. It expresses an awareness of the existence, person-hood, significance of the other. When my dog comes to me with his tail wagging, his nose up and his eyes eagerly seeking mine, I often tell him “I see you.”

A friend of mine was telling me a story of when he worked in a fruit stand. He said that he would often come home depressed and distressed. He finally figured out that he had gone all day and no one had seen him. It sucked the life from his soul.

We all have an innate need for significance. I think that may be one reason why we love our pets so much (I’ll be generous here and include cats for you cat-lovers, but I cannot fathom how a cat makes you feel significant). My dog loves me with an unconditional love, which is odd because my wife is the one who walks him, feeds him, lets him outside. But when I’m home, he wants nothing more than to be in the room where I am. He craves my attention and affection, but is content when my activities don’t include him, as long as he can be near-by. To this animal, I am the most important person on earth, and his world revolves around me.

We look for significance in our families. As children we crave parental acknowledgement and approval. I watch toddlers tugging and pulling at mom or dad, trying to turn their attention from whatever they are doing and onto themselves. “Watch me!” is a cry heard often from the lips of children. What they are really saying is, “do you see me?” Some children will sacrifice and push themselves to significant accomplishments in an effort to make mom or dad proud. Others resort to destructive activities just to get attention, to be “seen”. Because if you don’t even know I exist, then do I matter?

We look for significance from the opposite sex, at great peril to our self-esteem. Will anyone find me attractive? Does anyone want to be with me? Do you see me? And should we find someone who is willing to walk along our journey with us, we put even more pressure on the relationship. We ask our spouses to be intimately aware and interested in our day-to-day activities (which often as not are not their activities, and their focus is naturally elsewhere). Inasmuch as the spoken or unspoken childlike cry of “Watch me!” is unheeded, we may feel a lack of significance. After all, if the most important person in my life doesn’t “see me”, then do I matter?

We look for significance in our work. Yet, in truth, few of us can claim that the fruits of our labors will outlast our memory. I’ve been working on the same project for nearly 15 years, and I’m pretty sure it will disappear shortly after I retire. All that I’ve “accomplished” will come to naught. What about the people with whom I’ve crossed paths? Will anyone come to my “going away” lunch? Will there be one? Do I matter?

As we age, often sequestered in “retirement communities”, we look back on a lifetime of experience and wonder if there is anyone to share it with. in particular, do our children, in whom we invested so much of the energy of our youth, have any desire to be a part of our life? Does anyone want to hear our story? Does anyone see me? Do I matter?

The Bible teaches that God, the creator of the universe, the one who placed countless stars in the sky and put the earth in orbit around one; he who established boundaries for the oceans, raised up the mountains and lowered the valleys; who placed the moon in the sky to provide light in the night and cleanse the oceans with the tides; who filled the earth with green plants and adorned it with colorful flowers; who causes the trees to erupt in a cacophony of color before shedding their leaves for the stillness of winter; who delights in creating eagles and hawks to soar majestically above the earth and penguins and ostriches who cannot fly at all, and the albatross, who is inept at take-off and landing but who can fly for long distances without flapping; this God knows you and calls you by name, he has numbered the hairs on your head and loves you so fiercely, so passionately, so completely that he saw no choice but to die for your sake, so that you can be forgiven of your sins and restored to the relationship with Him that he has always desired; this God sees you.

If you are searching for significance, the only reliable place to start is with God. He will never leave you nor forsake you. You matter to him.

If you have significance, make an effort to give it to others.

  • Interact with your parents, and other older people. Listen to their memories, ask their opinion. Make time to include them in your world.
  • Give your spouse the gift of your undivided attention. Engage them in their world, and show interest in what they are interested in.
  • Be present with your children. Get on their level and see what they see. Touch them, hold them, tickle them. Let them know that you see them.
  • Take the time to interact with the people you encounter. Speak to the people who serve you: the lady at the store checkout, the waiter at the restaurant, the person who services your heater.
  • Pet your dog.

You never know how much you may impact someone’s life because you made the effort to say, “I see you.”