See No Evil, Speak No Evil, Hear No Evil

See no evil. Speak no evil. Hear no evil. Wouldn't it be a great world if this worked? All evil banned from our senses No evil in; no evil out.

But it doesn't work. Not even for a little while. We live in an evil world and an evil world lives in us. Evil can't be ignored or hushed like a irritating fly or a screeching sound.

Evil has a life of its own.

Christians and non-Christians alike struggle with evil. We call it sin. The difference between a believer and a non-believer is not that the former no longer sins, but how we each deal with sin. The non-believer may either deny or accept the existence of personal sin. Either way sin is given more power. The non-believing-sinner may deny personal guilt or sink under the weight of personal guilt and despair. In each case, sin reigns.

The believing-sinner has a Savior who delivers him from sin--past, present, and future. The believing-sinner who confesses and repents finds mercy and grace to restore his soiled soul. The believing-sinner finds strength from the Holy Spirit to move God-ward and break free from the tyranny of evil. The believing-sinner no longer punishes himself but receives full pardon from the One who took his punishment for him.

"If we say we have no sin, we are only fooling ourselves and refusing to accept the truth. But if we confess our sins to him, he is faithful and just to forgive us and to cleanse us from every wrong" (I John 1:8-9).

Shortcuts to Holiness

The Church--the family of God, not the building, not the institution--is a Holy Spirit-formed community where God is worshiped, his word is taught, the meal of salvation is shared, relationships are formed, sins are forgiven, mercy is received, and the lives of men and women are shaped into the image of Christ.

But it doesn't take long for those of us who are a part of this community to realize that our Christ-life isn't a finished life but a life in progress. We're slow learners. We hang on to selfish sins. We're unwilling to grow up. We slip back into old habits of disobedience as we look for shortcuts to holiness.

We do this behind masks portraying acceptable levels of spirituality. We keep our hands on the steering wheel of life while trying to manipulate God to bless us. If we dare take a close look at ourselves we see that most of the defects, disorders, and sins rampant in our congregation are the same defects, disorders, and sins running wild in our society. There is little or no discernible difference.

That's why corporate confession of sin should be standard practice when the Christ-Family gathers to worship. "Almighty and merciful Father: We have erred, and stayed from your ways like lost sheep. We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts. We have offended against your holy laws. We have left undone the things that we ought to have done. And we have done those things which we ought not to have done. And there is no health in us. But you, O Lord, have mercy upon us miserable offenders. Spare you those, O God, who confess their faults. Restore you those who are penitent, according to you promise declared unto mankind in Christ Jesus our Lord. And grant, O most merciful Father, for his sake, that we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and sober life. To the glory of your Holy Name. Amen." (Book of Common Prayer of the Episcopal Church).

"Miserable offenders"--yes, indeed! Confession keeps me honest with myself, others, and with God. Confession cleans the slate, restores me to fellowship with Papa-God, and keeps me from the presumptuous sin of self righteousness.

Confess.

Confess often.

There are no shortcuts to holiness.

I'm Sorry

Hardly a day goes by before the dirty laundry of a celebrity, politician, CEO, or star is aired. Sooner or later the truth comes out. From Hollywood to the governor's mansion to Wall Street to the church pulpit to the White House the soiled sheets of immorality headline the evening news. No one is exempt.

When the powerful are caught with their pants down it gives us a sense of moral superiority. We're ready to stone them. In public forums and private conversations we dissect their confessions. "I'm sorry. I let people down, especially my family, friends, those who had trust in me. and my supporters." We listen. We watch their body-language. We decide if their confession has merit. "It sounds contrived to me." "He's trying to save his job." "She's working the crowd." "Good PR, but a lame confession."

Soft on our own sins, we quickly condemn the offender who just got caught. Hiding our dirt, we eagerly join the parade to point out the dirt of others. Jesus asked a self-revealing question, "Why do you look at the speck of sawdust in your brother's eye and fail to notice the plank in your own eye?" (Matthew 7).

Why?

The One who asked the question answered it--"You hypocrite!"

Not the answer we wanted to hear.

We're first class hypocrites! We pounce on sordid tidbits from "tell-all" magazines and "behind-the-scenes" reality shows like starved hyenas chasing crippled rabbits. "Inquiring minds want to know." Their moral failures make us feel better about ourselves. "I wouldn't be caught dead doing that!" "How can anyone sink so low!" "Degenerate!" "They ought to be shot, hung, then electrocuted."

What's the remedy? "Take the plank out of your own eye first, then you can see clearly enough to remove your brother's speck of dust."

Deal with your own dirt. Own your own filth. Humble yourself before God. Echo David's prayer: "Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting" (Psalm 139).

When You Find Yourself in Quicksand

Despair is not always obvious. It often goes unnoticed. We've learned to hide our frightening feelings of despair. We, especially Christians, put on a flawless performance in our day-to-day life. After all, no matter how low we're feeling on the inside, the play must go on.

So, to most people we appear just what a Christian ought to be -- emotionally stable -- clam, happy, optimistic, in control. For our performance we're praised and welcome as one of the blessed ones.

To despair is to lose hope. To lose hope is to lose touch with God. To lose touch with God sends us back to despair. We're caught in a self-defeating cycle, a downward spiral, a free fall into the dark night of the soul.

"I sink in the miry depths, where there is no foothold. I have come into deep waters; the floods engulf me. I am worn out calling for help; my throat is parched. My eyes fail, looking for my God" (Psalm 69:2-3).

I sink into despair when I recognize no power greater than the power of my problem. Everything is dark and frighteningly fluid. Nothing is solid. Nothing eternal. My sickness, pain, prognosis, failure, bankruptcy, loss, grief, death, upside down or broken world becomes my master. Despair rules my soul.

Like others before me, I cry out for help. "Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me." I beg for relief. "Get me out of this miss." "Scatter the dark clouds." "Restore my sanity."

If I'm patient enough to be quiet and listen, Papa-God answers me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness" (2 Corinthians 12:9). That's where I lost it. I lost touch with the God of grace and the grace of God. That's why I lost it. I looked for a way out, not a way through. I wanted a short cut. God offers me his strength to endure.

I'm no match for despair. But God is. He does what I can't do. He graces me with his peace; he enables me with his power; he gives me a place to stand even with "quicksand under me and swamp water over me," even when I'm going down for the third time.

"I'm hurt and in pain; give me space for healing and mountain air. Let me shout God's name with a praising song, let me tell his greatness in a prayer of thanks" (Psalm 69:29-30, The Message).

He Weeps As He Whips

Real men cry. Jesus is no exception.

"As he approached Jerusalem and saw the city, he wept over it and said, 'If you, even you, had only known on this day what would bring you peace -- but now it is hidden from your eyes. The days will come upon you when your enemies will build an embankment against you and encircle you and hem you in on every side. They will dash you to the ground, you and your children within your walls. They will not leave one stone on another, because you did not recognize the time of God's coming to you" (Luke 19:41-44).

Deep emotions. Strong words. Broken heart. Blind eyes. Ghastly judgment.

Are his tears for Jerusalem only? I doubt it. Jerusalem was his primary heartbreak, but others have followed. We must be one of them. Like the Jews in Jerusalem, we reject the Prince of God's Peace and ignore God's presence among us. We're no less guilty than the first century Jews.

How then will God respond to our rude indifference? Will Papa-God bless or discipline us? Are we his golden children or his rebellious children? Can we expect the oil of blessing or the rod of discipline?

He weeps as he whips.

My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you. Because the Lord disciplines those he loves, and he punishes everyone he accepts as a son" (Hebrews 12:5-6).

We ask for God's discipline the moment we take control and shut him out of our lives, our churches, our business, our families, our friendships, our goals, our finances, our dreams and desires. When life -- everyday life, spiritual life, church life, work life, recreational life, social life -- becomes more form than content, more ritual than relationship, more mechanics than spirit, more surface than substance, we invite the rod of God's discipline.

He weeps as he whips, but he whips nevertheless.

The Nature of Sin

"It is so heartbreaking that Christ, who is the teacher of love, is betrayed with a kiss. Such is is the nature of sin." -- Soren Kierkegaard

Sin isn't always ugly or painful or brutal. Sin can be sensitive, warm, inviting, gracious -- the right thing to do -- the accepted thing to do -- a kiss of welcome -- a kiss of brotherhood --a kiss of friendship.

Sin is most sinful when it conceals itself behind beauty, masks itself behind love, or camouflages itself with friendship. The sin of betrayal is one of the greatest sins we commit against God and each other. Compassion is degraded by betrayal.

Betrayal shatters trust, spoils friendships, destroys marriages, families, and churches. Betrayal spoils everything it touches.

Trust is not a given; it has to be earned. Once earned, trust is the glue that holds relationships together until we are stabbed in the back by the same hand that hugged us, lied about by the same voice that encouraged us, or thrown out like yesterday's newspaper by the same person that endorsed us.

Betrayal crushes trust like a steamroller over a caterpillar.

"Now the betrayer had arranged a signal with them, 'The one I kiss is the man, arrest him.' Going at once to Jesus, Judas said, 'Greetings, Rabbi!' and kissed him. ... Then the men stepped forward, seized Jesus and arrested him." (Matthew 26:48-49,50)

Such is the nature of sin.

Our Personal War

Imagine a group of friends standing around talking with each other. The conversation is lively, light, and loud. Everyone in the group wants to have their say.

Then a stranger enters the group. Judging by the intense conversation of the group, the stranger concludes that the topic of their conversation is important. With eager anticipation to be a part of such conservation, the stranger asks the group what they're talking about.

But the group becomes annoyed with the stranger because his innocent question revealed that their conversation was about nothing significant at all. Shooting the breeze. Nothing more.

This is not unlike the reaction that happens when God's kids query the world's conversation with the hope of becoming participants. The strangers to God become annoyed. The intruder unmasks the insignificance of their conversation. No one likes to be showed up. The intruder is unwelcome.

The real annoyance isn't with the stranger or the intruder but with God himself. We seldom talk about it or admit it, but we are at war with God. Our ultimate conflict is not with one another, not even with our different political, religious, philosophical, and world views. Our ultimate conflict is with God.

We take God too lightly. To borrow Bonhoeffer's term, we're addicted to cheap grace. We get worked up over things that don't matter and ignore the weightier things that ultimately matter. We trouble ourselves with issues we can't fix and ignore the issues we can fix. We keep God at arms length.

We take sin too lightly. Repentance means "My bad." "We all make mistakes." "No one is perfect." The Old Testament root for repentance means "to breathe with difficulty," signifying sighing, groaning, moaning, grieving over our personal sin.

Little wonder Jesus cut the conversation about political unrest short with these unwelcome words: "But unless you repent, you too will all perish" (Luke 13:3).

Paul wrote, "Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation" (2 Corinthians 7:10). David cried out for forgiveness: "Have mercy, O God, according to your unfailing love" (Psalm 51:1).

Our personal war with God stops and peace is restored when we repent. 1. We own our personal sin. 2. We grieve over it's filth. 3. We appeal for mercy and forgiveness.

Only when we "produce fruit in keeping with repentance" will our war with God cease and our hearts and minds come under the rule of Jesus, the Prince of Peace.

Beggars Don't Quit

Desperate people do desperate things. Desperation drives us to do what we would have never considered doing. Extreme hunger drives a once finicky eater to eat garbage. Who knows what we might eat under extreme circumstances.

Satiated people can be choosy. It's easy to sit down to a meal of fine wine, a Caesar salad, prime rib, and cheesecake and disdain the beggar in the alley behind the restaurant pawing through the dumpster for scraps the rats haven't already consumed.

Beggars can't afford to be choosy: beggars can't quit begging.

Jesus taught his followers to pray out of desperation: "Ask and you will receive, search and you will find, knock and the door will be open for you" Luke 11:9. But that doesn't happen too often because we are spiritually obese. We have a ton of "wants" but not too many legitimate needs. We "want" just about everything we see. We need very little. So we pray out of overload, not desperation. We pray for more elaborate and expensive stuff. We don't pray for the ordinary things we can easily provide ourselves. We are self-indulged. Pampered. Spoiled.

Desperate we're not.

We ask but not out of grave desperation. We seek but not out of utter hopelessness. We knock but not out of extreme urgency. Our prayers are casual, flippant, nonchalant, routine verbal exercises in half baked spirituality. If we get what we want that's great! If not, we'll look somewhere else.

Is it any wonder our anemic prayers are little more than empty words rattling around in space signifying nothing?

Basic spirituality begins with desperation: "Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven" Matthew 5:3. Blessed are the bankrupt, the beggarly, the undone, the ruined, the desperate. The desperate receive the kingdom; the pampered miss out.

"Your blessed when you're at the end of your rope. With less of you there is more of God and his rule" Matthew 5:3, The Message.

Love Has Different Eyes

Suppose there were two photographers, and one said, "I've traveled all over the world trying to find the perfect face to photograph. But I've come up short. Just when I think I've found perfection I see a flaw. I can dream up a perfect face, but I can't find one."

The second photographer responded, "I haven't traveled as you have. This little village is my world. I'm only an amateur photographer at best. But I find beauty in every face I see. No matter how flawed the face, I seem to see something beautiful in it."

Which is the better photographer? The one who can't find the ideal subject or the one who sees the ideal in every subject?

The first photographer requires perfection. The second brings something to the subject that allows him to discover beauty. The first looks through demanding eyes. The second looks through compassionate eyes. The first judges; the second discerns.

Love is like that. We want to love perfection. But when we can't find perfection or discover that the person we thought was perfect is flawed, then we try to love them in spite of their imperfections. A love we conclude to be noble and Christian.

Not so.

God doesn't love us in spite of our weaknesses, sins, and imperfections. Papa loves us with all our mess. He loves the person He sees.

We're asked to love the same way: "He who does not love his brother whom he has seen, cannot love God whom he has not seen" I John 4:10.

"The task is not to find the lovable object, but to find the object before us lovable--whether given or chosen--and to be able to continue finding this one lovable, no matter how that person changes." Kierkegaard

We're not asked to love the imperfection; we're asked to love the imperfect person. When we learn to love the person we see our loves grows. Only when we love the person we see, will we see the person we love.

Saint or Sinner?

I've been thinking about Martin Luther's insight into the human nature of Papa's kids: that we are totally saints and totally sinners at the same time.

Most people lean to one side or the other. We are saints--"practically perfect" all the time. Or we are sinners -- pitifully imperfect all the time. Which is it?

The positive among us err on the side of sainthood. We're not that bad. We have a flaw or two but our hallos shine like gold in bright sunlight. We put our best foot forward. We're optimistic about the world, the church, and ourselves. After all is said and done, we're in good shape.

The negative among us err on the side of depravity. We can't do anything right. We fail more than we succeed. We're lost in a sea of selfishness; we're drowning in waters of flesh-driven lust. Sainthood is a losing battle.

Is there a balance?

The truth is we are sinners; it is our nature to sin; our "flesh" sins. This doesn't excuse our sin, but it does help us to admit who we are and to understand what goes on inside us. Before we slide into a pit of despair, let's look at the balancing truth--we are saints.

God said so. Through the sacrifice of Jesus and the transforming power of the Spirit we've been made saints. Not an honorary sainthood, but an actual life-experience of triumph over sin, a radical change in character, and the privilege to partner with God in His kingdom life and work in this world.

Saints no longer live for themselves but to do the will of Papa-God.

Yet, it would be a mistake to believe that sin throws in the towel and gives up. Lust doesn't vanish. Temptations don't lessen. Obvious sins are often replaced with the more acceptable and less visible sins -- "cheap sex, a stinking accumulation of mental and emotional garbage, religion, paranoid loneliness, cutthroat competition, all-consuming-yet-never-satisfied wants, a brutal temper, an impotence to love or be loved, divided homes and divided lives, small-minded and lopsided pursuits, the vicious habit of depersonalizing everyone into a rival, uncontrolled and uncontrollable addictions, ugly parodies of community" Galatians 5:19-21.

Is there any hope? Sure. "Live freely, animated and motivated by God's Spirit. Then you won't feed on the compulsions of selfishness" Galatians 5:16.

Saint or sinner?

Both.

"Since this is the kind of life we've chosen, the life of the Spirit, let us make sure that we do not just hold on to the idea in our heads or a sentiment in our hearts but work out its implications in every detail in our lives" Galatians 5:25

Should We Be Spared?

Why should God spare the United States? Do we deserve to be spared? Or, do we deserve to free fall into a black hole of socialism ... even fascism?

We are a Christian nation... aren't we?

To believe the United States is a Christian nation is like believing someone who calls himself a millionaire is a millionaire when he only has three dollars to his name.

We talk the talk; we don't walk the walk. We're good at God-talk; we're not so good at God-walk.

Let's not forget our inventory of Christian goods: church buildings, Christian schools, chimes, organs, pews, altars, pulpits, offering plates, clerical robes, baptistry's, fonts, paintings, gold plated crosses. Add to that our inventory of Christian personnel: pastors, teachers, evangelists, missionaries, counselors, bishops, overseers, elders, deacons, leaders, and ministers of music, discipleship, visitation, youth, children, & senior adults. Not to mention the religious rank and file who fill worship centers, cathedrals, storefront churches--a vast array of church-going people.

But when genuine spirituality is so rare, this inventory is not an advantage, it's a detriment, because it gives the impression that we are what we are not, a Christian nation.

We won't be spared as long as we choose to be self-deceived. We won't be spared until we admit who we really are. As a nation, in the strictest sense, in the New Testament sense, we are not Christian. For the most part, we are not even trying to be.

Suppose the billions of dollars spent on space exploration never produced one space mission? Rockets designed, shuttles built, astronauts trained, launch site prepared, but not one lift-off. Not one space mission. A lot of talk, speculation, energy, time, brainpower, money, but no results. How foolish would that be? And how foolish would it be for a nation that promoted that kind of space program to call itself a pioneer in space?

Isn't it the same with Christianity? We've produced a lot of Christian motion, worked up a lot of religious sweat, built a lot of buildings, spent a lot of money, talked a lot of God-talk, but with meager results. Compared to New Testament brand of Christianity, what do we have to show for it?

There are two ways open for us: 1. Become ruthlessly honest about how far we have walked off from God. Own our sin. Repent. Turn to Christ and become his serious followers. Or, 2. Continue to perform skillful maneuvers to cover the reality of our spiritual bankruptcy -- maneuvers that conjure up a forgery of righteousness (rightness) whereby we convince ourselves that we are indeed Christians.

Jesus Christ requires followers and he defines exactly what he means by this. They are to become disciples willing to forsake everything. But to be a serious follower of Jesus Christ is not something most of us really what to do. We'll settle for the counterfeit variety.

Should we be spared? Maybe God is fed up?

"Not everyone who says to me, 'Lord, Lord' will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only he who does the will of my Father who is in heaven" Matthew 7:21.

Want to Know Something About Yourself?

"If we admit our sins--make a clean breast of them--he won't let us down, he'll be true to himself. He'll forgive our sins and purge us of all wrongdoing." I John 1:9

Confession is a life-long partner. It's as close as our breath. No appointments or special places are needed for confession. I can confess my sin in the middle of real-time life, anywhere, anytime.

Confession means I own my sin. No excuses. I admit my failure. No cover up. I come clean. Halfhearted repentance won't do.

Full confession guarantees full pardon. Forgives is instant and complete. The God of grace runs to cleanse my sin-stained soul. He is more eager to forgive than I am to confess.

It would be a mistake to forget that Papa-God who is present to hear my confession is omniscient. He knows everything about me. He knows everything about everything. Nothing is outside his scope of knowledge and understanding. He knows my sin; he knows all my sins.

Papa-God is the One who "sees in secret." The One who hears me in my silence. I can't deceive him by blame-shifting, lying, or silence. When I confess to Papa-God, therefore, I'm not like a bank teller being audited to determine his or her honesty or dishonesty. When I confess to Him, it's not like one friend confiding in another friend about secret sins that no one else knows about.

When I confess to God, I'm confessing to One who already knows my sin--every offense. So, every confession I make is to an All-Knowing God. Therefore, confession is not a revelation to Him but a revelation to me. God doesn't learn something He didn't know beforehand. Rather, when I confess my sin I find out something about myself that I didn't want to know.

What great grace is this?

Come Here!

"Come here to me, all you who labor and are burdened, and I will give you rest" (Matthew 11:28).

"Come here!" --- Incredible!

There is nothing unusual about someone in danger calling out for help, "Come over here! Please help me!" But there is something unusual about a strong person inviting weak people to share his strength.

"Come here to me!" --- Even more incredible!

A physician might, under rare circumstances, invite a sick person to come --- "Make an appointment." With the charitable invitation comes the understanding that the patient comes to be diagnosed, treated, and sent on their way. It's an invitation to help, not to stay.

Jesus invites the sin-sick and soul-weary to stay. "Come here to me" is the invitation. Not come for a diagnosis and prescription, but come to me because I am your help. "I will give you rest" because "I am your rest." That is his invitation.

"Come here to me!" --- Intensely personal!

Jesus invites me to come as if I were the only patient he has; the only sick person he knows; the only burdened human being on the planet. Even the best doctor can't do that. A physician works with a team of medical professionals to give care. No one patient receives their full attention all the time. The average doctor's office visit is 15 minutes or less. Even if the physician wanted to, he or she could not devote all their time and energy to one patient.

But the Great Physician does. He invites me and you to come and remain in his presence. He offers his full attention to each of us. No one is excluded. No one shortchanged. No one overlooked. No one falls through the cracks. No one minimized or dismissed.

How can this be?

It's simple yet profound: the Helper is the help.

It's Time To Grow Up!

Aniston's first cereal.

She's not too sure about it.

But for this sweet baby (my youngest grandchild) mushy cereal is age appropriate. She can't eat steak.

However, as Aniston grows up she will eat adult food. It's the natural way of things. Babies eat baby food; grown-ups eat grown-up food.

The writer to the Hebrews scolded adult Christians who were satisfied with baby food: "In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God's word all over again. You need milk, not solid food! " Hebrews 5:12

Infants are wonderful examples of God's creative love. But people who choose to remain infants all their lives are out of sync with God's plan for maturity. Spiritual infancy is as important and necessary as physical infancy. But adults who choose spiritual infancy as their lifestyle prove themselves to be immature, shallow, weak, unable to eat or digest solid spiritual food, and a logjam in the Body of Christ.

None of us are perfect--yet. By grace we believe in Christ and become infants in his family. However, after the baby season is over, it's time to grow up.

What does a grown-up Christian look like? He or she not only believes in Jesus but also shares his beliefs. Maturing believers pass through stages of spiritual growth from faith in Christ to having the faith of Christ.

Failure to grow up in Christ produces weak, anemic, hypocritical, phony, legalistic, church-going Christians who aren't worth their weight in authentic spirituality. They are pretenders; people with "lips close to God and hearts far away from him" Isaiah 29:13.

Only when we wean ourselves from spiritual baby food and eat solid spiritual food will our spirit-person become strong and mature. It's time to grow up!

To Forgive or Not to Forgive?

"To forgive sins is divine not only in the sense that no one is able to do it except God, but also because no one can do it without God." S. Kierkegaard

"Forgive us our debts as we have also forgiven our debtors" Matthew 6:12.

It's not easy to forgive. We want forgiveness for our offenses yet we're reluctant to forgive the offenses of others.

"For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your Heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins" Matthew 6:13-15. Jesus wasn't kidding. If the forgiven refuses to forgive others, then forgiveness will be withheld from him.

Forgiveness means "release" -- a release from personal judgment. It means I release the one who sinned against me from my judgment and release him or her to God's mercy. Forgiveness lets go of revenge, anger, and hurt. I want to get even; God requires me to give mercy instead.

A forgiven person is a broken person. We admit our sin. We own our guilt. We confess. And Papa-God quickly forgives. It is the broken person who is asked to forgive others. Only when we see our own dirt can we forgive others their dirt.

To ask God for forgiveness and then refuse to forgive someone else affronts God's grace. This self-righteous attitude disqualifies us from receiving forgiveness.

To forgive or not to forgive? That is the question.

Ouch!

So, because you are lukewarm -- neither hot nor cold -- I am about to spit you out of my mouth, Revelation 3:16.

Who said this?

God.

Who did he say it to?

A church.

What does it mean?

"The person who is neither cold nor hot is an abomination to God. God is no more served by dud individuals than a marksman is served by a rifle that, in the moment of decision, clicks instead of firing." -- Kierkegaard

Lukewarm indecision -- halfhearted commitment -- finds no home in the radical claims of Christ. He requires a clear "yes" or "no." No middle ground. No wishy washy response. No grey area. Christ prefers a hostile rejection to a "maybe." He prefers radical obedience to "I'll see."

Lukewarm indecision indicates that we haven't grasped either the impact of Jesus' call or the substance of his message. Therefore, lukewarm indecision meets with a gesture of disgust -- "I'll spit you out of my mouth!"

God can't stomach indifference. He won't tolerate it. It's an affront to him. He expectorates unresponsive, middle-of-the-road disinterest.

Charles Williams suggests that "the whole labor of regenerating mankind has to begin every thirty years." What starts out with passion often ends in pathetic sluggishness. Spirit-power dissipates into indifference. Spirit-empowered lives dwindle into going through the religious motions. We live in the gray shadows of religion long after the Spirit has been grieved and gone away.

Apathy is the sin of the 21st century church.

We're lukewarm. If we're not careful, we'll become little more than divine spit!

What's Your Cause?

Almost everyone has a cause? What's yours? We are anti or pro something; sometimes, we're anti and pro at the same time.

Causes are everywhere. And they come in a variety of flavors: noble and ignoble, noticed and unnoticed, political and religious, environmental and social, moral and immoral.

Does God have a cause? He must because his kids are involved in God-causes on every level. His cause is our cause! Or, is it the other way around?

Would it shock your grey cells to discover that God doesn't have a cause? Not one.

Would it rearrange your mindset to know that God is not the God of causes--any cause, my cause, your cause? If God were to support a cause it would mean that he is weak, needy and that he can't do what he wants to do without help. His cause would either succeed or fail based on his ability to recruit our participation.

Does the Lord of the universe need human endorsement to succeed?

Think about this: Our God is in heaven; he does whatever pleases him, Psalm 115:3. God's will cannot be strangled by either the presence or absence of our endorsement. God is God. He does whatever He pleases without any limitations or restrictions.

Because he is mercifully patient with us God may bless us in our cause-addictions, at least, for a season. But his goal is to wean us from causes as we mature in our relationship with him.

If God had a cause it would be love--his incredible, selfless, unending, love. Papa's goal is to draw us into his love.

If we must have a cause let it be Papa-God's love. God loved the world so much that he gave his one and only Son so that whoever believes in him may not be lost, but have eternal life, John 3:16.

Is there a greater cause than this?

The Insecure Man

The word insecure means "lacking assurance or confidence, uncertainty." It also means "a dangerous state of affairs; something unsafe, not firm, liable to give way."

Most of us are insecure. Most of us hide it. It's an old story worth repeating. An experienced preacher gave his apprentice some last minute advice before the novice delivered his first sermon: "Son, your third point is your weakest. Raise you voice and pound on the pulpit when you make that point. No one will notice."

Insecure men pound on something--their point-of-view, accomplishments, money, sexual conquests, physique, social position, political power, charitable work, church work, skills, sacrifice. Anything to distract from their lack of confidence; anything to conceal the dark hole of uncertainty in the middle of their soul that refuses to go away no matter how hard they pound or how loud they boast.

Like the Pharaohs before them insecure men build monuments to themselves--pyramids to immortalize and validate their existence. Something that says I am here; I make a difference; I matter; I'm important.

Yet our self-made monuments only tell the world how inadequate we really are. Our accomplishments, drivenness, lust for things and power, "outght's" and "have-to's" make us look busy and important but, in reality, they keep us from living at peace with ourselves or with God.

The insecure man is never at peace with himself. He hides behind a mask of intelligence, humor, skill, charisma, good looks. The mask lies about who he really is to everyone except himself and God.

If the insecure man wears his mask long enough he'll believe his own lie.

How is insecurity erased and confidence embraced? The fruit of righteousness will be peace; the effect of righteousness will be quietness and confidence forever, Isaiah 32:17. The immediate context of this promise begins a few verses before--till the Spirit is poured out on us from on high.

Confidence is God's work. It comes from the Spirit. Only when God's Spirit fills us, covers us, works freely among us will we move from insecure men to confident men. Only God can change our condition. Only His righteousness will cause quiet confidence to flow from a once insecure soul.

Things Are Not Always What They Seem

It was a beautiful Pennsylvania bed-and-breakfast--a working farm. After breakfast, Lynne and I walked around the grounds and down to a farm pond. A large white swan was swimming at the far end of the pond. We noticed something unusual. The swan was chained to an iron post on the bank with about 25 ft of chain.

Later, we asked the owner why the swan was chained. He told us that last Spring his wife was working in the flowerbed near the pond; her back was to the pond. He was in the barn about 100 yards away when he heard his wife screaming for help. He ran out and saw the swan beating her with its powerful wings. He knocked the bird off her, saw that she was seriously hurt, and rushed her to the hospital. She had multiple contusions, deep bruises, and fractured ribs.

The swans was a new addition to their farm. And what they didn't know is that during mating season the male swan becomes territorial and aggressive. And a male swan can seriously injure, in some cases, kill a human with its wings. She was fortunate that her husband was there. The attack might have been worse.

Things are not always what they seem. Beauty can be deceiving. Samuel was on a mission to anoint a new king for Israel. God sent the prophet to Jesse's house. The new king was to be of Jesse's eight sons. Samuel took one look at Jesse's son Eilab--strong, handsome, tall--and thought, "Here he is! God's anointed!"

But God told Samuel, "Looks aren't everything. Don't be impressed with his looks and statue. I've already eliminated him. God's judges persons differently than humans do. Men and women look at the face; God looks at the heart" I Samuel 16:7.

Appearance, charisma, personality grab out attention. We're drawn toward beauty like a moth to flame. Is it any mistake that the one who deceived Adam and Eve was a supernatural being of exquisite beauty?

God bypassed the better looking sons and chose the "runt of the litter" to succeed Saul as king of Israel. It was his inside, not his outside, that grabbed God's attention. "Samuel took his flask of oil and anointed him, with his brothers standing around watching. The Spirit of God entered David like a rush of wind, God vitally empowering him for the rest of his life" I Samuel 16:13.

Ask God to give you His eyes. Dare to look below the surface. God does. He is a heart-man, first and foremost. Shouldn't we follow His example?

Life From a Four-Year-Old

Emery squeezes every ounce out of life. She's four-years-old. Full of spunk. Nothing gets past her.

It was a "bad week" at preschool for Emery. Not listening and disobedience sentenced her to time-out and the principal's office. All of which Emery took in stride.

The next week, her dad, Rob, had a heart-to-heart talk with Emery about her behavior and each morning she made a "pinkie-promise" to be good. It worked ... until Thursday morning. Emery refused to make the "pinkie-promise." "Daddy," Emery explained, "I've been good for 3 days and I don't think I can do it again. I think it's going to be a bad day today." However, Emery pulled out another good day.

Then, the weekend came. Emery went to three birthday parties/Easter egg hunts. She misbehaved at all three. She refused to participate or play with the other children. She whined, cried, and clung to her mommy. The final Easter egg hunt at church got so bad that Rob took Emery home early.

After Emery's tears dried, they had a father-daughter talk. Rob asked Emery why she continued to misbehave when she knows it's unacceptable and she missed out on all the fun. "But daddy," Emery said, "It's so easy to be bad and it's so hard to be good!"

"That's right," Rob responded, "that's life."

Emery didn't like her dad's response. She thought about it for a moment and said, "I think I need to talk to Granddad about this."

She did.

We had a great talk. Her childlike honesty is refreshing. She's more honest than I am. And she's right: it is easier to be bad than it is to be good. Unlike, my granddaughter, we're reluctant to admit it.

Now I understand what Jesus meant when he said, "Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of heaven belongs to such as these." Matthew 19:14

Triumphant or Militant?

What is the nature of the Church on earth? Triumphant or militant? Victorious or warring? Do we know the difference?

A winning Church is a trophy-holding, crown-wearing, undefeated community of faith on top of their game. King of the hill. Top of the heap. Successful. A warring Church never arrives. It's always in one struggle or another. It may be as brave as a loin and as tenacious as pit bull but it never arrives. It is in the process of becoming.

A winning Church displays the kingdom of God polished and gleaming in a trophy case. A warring Church understands God's kingdom is an alien kingdom and can only be partially realized now.

A winning Church doesn't suffer because it's made a deal with society: "Don't bother us; we won't bother you." A deal that dilutes Christianity. Once the deal is made the triumphant church concentrates on itself --- expands its holdings, increases its resources, multiplies its programs, builds its buildings. Its only struggle is to keep people coming, giving, and happy.

Christians in a warring Church don't fit the mold. They live risky lives. They're too focused on the fight to be concerned about externals. Little else matters. Hardly the warm, feel-good, comfortable Christianity we're accustomed to.

First century followers of Jesus wouldn't recognize winning Christians. We do. They're just like us. Somewhere we forgotten or conveniently ignored our Lord's warning: In this world you will have trouble. But take heart I have overcome the world. John 16:33.

Let's be clear. Serious followers of Jesus Christ are at odds with society. They've made a deal with God and are arch enemies of the god of this world. They don't fit in. They can't conform. They will be exempt, overlooked, rejected, demeaned, hurt, tortured, and killed. They're at war and they know it.

Victory comes later.

A warring Church understands that friends of the world are enemies of God James 4:4 and if anyone loves the world the love of the Father is not in him 2 John 2:15. And the warrior also knows: Many are the afflictions of the righteous, but the Lord delivers from them all Psalm 34:19.

Triumphant or militant? It's our choice.

Marginal People

Marginal people played a prominent role as witnesses to the resurrection of Jesus. Probably, the most marginal of any of Jesus' followers was Mary Magdalene.

We know little about this Mary except that she was possessed by "seven devils."

Possession allowed the seven foul spirits to control Mary--mind and body. Which probably drove her into a debauched moral life coupled with frightening emotional and psychological madness.

Mary was a mess. Nothing was normal. She was driven by her personal demons into a life of living death. No hope. No help. Scorned. Shamed. Used. Avoided. Feared. Life was hell.

Then she met Jesus and he delivered her from her evil captors. Immediately, Mary became a devoted follower of Christ. Nothing could separate her from the pure love she found in Christ. When most of his followers fled, Mary was one of the three Mary's at the foot of the cross.

It's no mistake that Mary alone appears in all four gospel accounts as the prime resurrection witness. Her encounter with the Risen Christ was quiet and holy. Mary stood outside the tomb crying. As she wept, she bent over to look into the tomb and saw two angels in white, seated where Jesus' body had been, one at the head and the other at the foot. They asked her, 'Woman, why are you crying?' 'They have taken my Lord away,' she said, 'and I don't know where they have put him.' At this, she turned around and saw Jesus standing there..." (John 20:11-14)

Mary didn't recognize Jesus at first. Then he called her by name. And Mary cried out in Aramaic, "Robboni!' (which means Teacher)." Resurrection is personal, quiet, and gloriously supernatural.

Never forget that the Risen Christ appears to marginal people ... like me ... like you. Have a blessed Easter!

Forgive Them

Justice or forgiveness? "I have my rights." "I demand justice." Forgiveness is weak; justice has teeth. Forgiveness dismisses the offense; justice avenges the offense. Forgiveness throws the offender on God's mercy; justice throws the offender into hell.

Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do. Luke 23:34 One of the one-sentence prayers of Jesus' from the cross. Who is the "them" and "they'? Exactly who is being forgiven? Everyone who is killing Jesus.

The high priest, the Roman governor, Judas, the crowd crying for his blood, the eleven disciples who at his arrest ran like cellar rats. The Roman soldiers who carried out the execution and threw dice for his clothes. And don't forget ... me. And don't forget ... you. Is anyone exempt from the guilt of putting Jesus to death?

Did they know what they were doing? Jesus was tried on false charges. His arraignment, trial, torture, and execution were all based on false charges. Lies. The religious court and the secular court wedded together in the big lie to destroy an innocent life. But they didn't know they were executing God!

And what does Jesus do? He didn't demand justice; he absolved them of their quilt. He asked Papa-God to forgive them.

"Father, forgive them" overlooks "I have my rights! No one is going to push me around! I'll be damned if I'll be any one's doormat!"

So, which is it? Justice or forgiveness?

Justice is important. But forgiveness is more important. Justice rights wrongs, punishes criminals, keeps order. Forgiveness rains mercy, relieves guilt, releases sin. Forgiveness doesn't eliminate justice; it trumps justice. It walks alongside justice.

Forgiveness is not soft passivity. It takes guts to forgive. Forgiveness does not lessen the offense; it offers mercy to the offender.

Two condemned criminals were executed by crucifixion that Friday afternoon outside Jerusalem; one on either side of Jesus. One asked to be "remembered." Jesus said, "Yes!" The first person to recognize Jesus as Savior was a condemned criminal. Justice carried out his execution. Forgiveness changed his destination: "Today you will be with me in Paradise."

Where is God When You Need Him?

"Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani ... My God, My God, why have your forsaken me?" (Matt. 7:46; Mark 15:34).

Can God abandon himself?

He did. Papa left his Son. Jesus died alone.

Few of us would choose to die alone. While death rips life from our bodies, it would be comforting to know we were surrounded by people who mean the most to us, people who love us, people willing to walk with us through the valley of the shadow of death.

Who wants to die alone?

Have you noticed that we die a thousand deaths before we're buried--"mini-deaths" Eugene Peterson calls them. We're shunned, rejected, ignored, betrayed, abandoned, abused, and taken off the list as if we were invisible. Each "mini-death" leading to the final death.

During my "mini-death" experience I want God to show up and rescue me from the harsh isolation of betrayal. But He doesn't. At least, He doesn't seem to be there. Heaven is silent. And I'm left to stumble around in the dark night of my soul. I feel desperate. Cut off. I die alone.

"Why?"

I don't know "why?" No matter how many times I ask or how long I wait, God never answers my "whys?"

Yet, no matter how alone I feel, I'm not alone. I will never leave you; I will never forsake you. Hebrews 13:5 That's His promise.

How do I handle my mini-deaths? I do what Jesus did. I trust; I pray; I wait for Papa's presence.

He's on His way. He's never broken a promise yet.

Get Out of the Kiddy Pool

I love the ocean. Oceans are is important to life. They are also important to our Christian life. Christianity is about water.

"Everyone who thirsts, come to the water.' It's about baptism, for God's sake. It's about full immersion, about falling into something elemental and wet. Most of what we do in worldly life is geared toward our staying dry, looking good, not going under. But in baptism, in lakes and rain and tanks and fonts, you agree to do something that is a little sloppy because at the same time it's also holy, and absurd. It's about surrender, giving in to all those things we can't control; it's a willingness to let go of balance and decorum and get drenched." -- Anne Lamott

Christians tend to hug the boat. Jesus walked on water and invited Peter to join him. Not us, we'd rather stay where it's dry, safe, stable. We don't want to get our clothes messed up, our hair wet, or look like drowned rats. Most of all, we don't want to fail!

So we stay on the shore and wade in the shallows. After all, sharks, rip currents, and rogue waves haunt the ocean. Ankle-deep is good enough for us.

Maybe it's time to swim beyond the breakers, to let the currents take us out where we can't touch bottom, where we're less in control, where trust takes over. The depths of God beg us to leave the beach.

Ezekiel was led into the river of life. He started ankle-deep, then knee-deep, then waist-deep, and finally over his head: a river that I could not cross, because the river had risen and was deep enough to swim in--a river that no one could cross. Ezek. 47:5

Get out of the kiddy pool; swim beyond the breakers. Take the risk. Explore the depths of God. You won't be disappointed.

Lord, I am yours; I do yield myself up entirely to you, and I believe that you accept me. I leave myself with you. Work in me all the good pleasure of your will, and I will only lie still in your hands and trust you. -- Hannah Whitall Smith

Consider the Source

One way I deal with criticism is with an angry shrug or sneer and a quip, "Consider the source!" This tactic is particularly effective against critics who can't do what I do, don't know what I know, or haven't walked where I've walked.

Like a critic of my public speaking technique who has no public speaking experience, or a critic of my children who has no children of their own, or a critic of my leadership skills who has never led anyone anywhere except their puppy outside to pee.

This tactic worked well until I read a story about a professor of military science and one of his ROTC officers in college. The young officer walked off the drill field where his marching platoon, "The Pershing Rifles," was given a low grade for their drill performance.

The judges were from another college and one of them was a short guy with thick glasses and an enormous belly. "I don't mind being judged as a poor performer," the young officer said to his professor. "But I resent the fact that one of the judges couldn't perform one of our drills if his life depended on it. When was the last time he saw his knees? What does a fat ass like that know about maneuvers?"

Consider the source!

The prof replied wisely, "A man doesn't have to be a butcher to know if a steak tastes good or not."

Ouch!

I miss God's corrective voice through the voice of my critic if I sluff it off with, "Consider the source." If I have any chance of learning from criticism, I have to look beyond the critic and see if God is speaking to me even through this ... annoying ... person.

King David lusted for another man's beautiful wife. He devised a plan to get her husband out of the way. Then he had sex with Bathsheba. David felt he had gotten away with it until Bathsheba sent him a message with those three little words a men never wants to hear from his mistress, "I am pregnant."

David devised another plan. He brought Bathsheba's soldier husband back from battle and encouraged him to spend time with his wife. The valiant soldier refused. Instead, he slept outside the palace. So, David ordered him sent back to the fight, this time to the front lines. As planned, Uriah was killed in action.

After a time of mourning, David brought Bathsheba into his palace. She became his wife and bore him a son. Again, David felt he had gotten away with it.

Then an annoying prophet showed up. Shaking his long finger in the King's face, the prophet Nathan declared David guilty of adultery and murder. God said, "I'll make trouble for you out of your own family. I'll take your wives from right out in front of you. I'll give them to some neighbor, and he'll go to bed with them openly. You did your deed in secret; I'm doing mine with the whole country watching" 2 Samuel 12.

No angry shrug or sneer. David humbled himself, looked beyond his critic, and heard the voice of God. David confessed, "I have sinned against God." Months later, he wrote Psalm 51, the greatest example of personal repentance ever written.

The next time you're criticized, no matter how small the issue or how annoying the critic, do what David did. Look beyond the critic, see if God is saying something to you. When I do this I move from an angry flash-point of self-justification to a humbling insight of penitent recovery.

Consider the Source!

Can I Change Myself?

"Can the Ethiopian change his skin or the leopard change his spots?" Jeremiah 13:23. What a curious question. Can I change the pigmentation of my skin? Can a leopard change its appearance? What can I change about myself?

A cosmetic surgeon might reply: "A great deal. I can re-sculpt your face and body. I can give you a new you."

From hair styling and coloring to body, facial, and dental re-sculpting complete makeovers are available. Erasing age telling wrinkles and skin defects, reshaping a nose, thinning out everything from eyelids to belly fat. It's all possible with a surgeon's skill, time, and my money. Yes, I can remodel myself.

But the question remains: can I change me? I can change how I look; can I change who I am? I can change my outside; can I change my inside? I can makeover my body; can I makeover my soul?

The question about the Ethiopian and the leopard is followed by a statement: "Neither can you do good who are accustomed to doing evil." I am who I am. I can't change it.

Depressing, isn't it? If there is no hope of change, why try? If I'm destined to be rotten, then why not be as rotten as hell? If I'm locked into evil, then why not be evil to the max? If I cannot change, then why pretend to be anything other than the rogue I am?

Wait. God has something else to say: "Therefore this is what the Lord says: 'If you repent, I will restore you that you may serve me'" Jeremiah 15:19. Change comes from the Lord.

Change comes through repentance. A concept lost in society and in church. We've reduced repentance to little more than, "Sorry. My bad."

Repentance that brings change is a holy sorrow over my offense against God. A sorrow so real and deep that I can do nothing other than fall at his feet, ask for his mercy, reject my sin, and embrace his righteousness.

Can I change myself? No. But what I can't do. God does.

Truth Isn't For Sissies

Honesty is often interpreted as meanness. If I speak the truth, if I say what I really feel or what I really think, then I'm cold, hardhearted. So, to keep the peace, I tend to camouflage my real feelings and thoughts. Sometime I'm succeed, most of the time I don't.

Truth pushes its way out. It is uncomfortable in captivity, uncomfortable wearing camouflaged clothing. Truth is uncomfortable with compromise, political correctness, blame-shifting, minimizing, dodging, side-stepping, denying, hiding, or lying. Truth avoids shadows; it detests darkness. Truth demands the light.

Why does truth have a bad rap? A number of reasons: truth hurts; we can't or won't handle the truth; we don't want our life-lie exposed. So, we settle for snippets of shaded-truth cushioned with goose-down.

Jesus, John declared, came "from the Father, full of grace and truth" John 1:14. Grace and truth perfectly balanced in his life, attitude, thoughts, actions, words. But truth didn't always come across as polite, nice, or even compassionate.

Jesus was invited into a home in Tyre. He was barely inside when a woman who had a "disturbed daughter" came and knelt at his feet, begging for help. The woman was Greek and asked Jesus to come with her to help her daughter.

Jesus said to the woman, "Stand in line and take your turn. The children get fed first. If there is any left over the dogs get it" Mark 7:27. Sounds abrupt, rude, and offense to me.

But the woman refused to be put off, "Of course, Master. But don't the dogs under the table get scraps dropped by the children?"

Grace and Truth responded, "You're right! On your way! Your daughter is no longer disturbed. The demonic affliction is gone." The woman went home and found her daughter healed, the torment gone for good.

Truth isn't for sissies. Truth hurts before it heals.

Eagles Shouldn't Be Caged

Eagles shouldn't be caged. Eagles are born to fly to heights of 10,000 feet, sore on invisible streams of wind, cruse at 35 mph during level flight. Eagles need thousands of acres in which to hunt and high trees and mountain cliffs to build their 5 ft. diameter nest. They need to hunt, kill, eat, mate, and feed and protect their chicks.

Eagles shouldn't be caged. Eagles are professional fisherman. Like all birds, eagles have color vision. Their eyes are almost as large as a human's, but 4 times sharper than a person with perfect vision. An eagle can identify a rabbit moving almost a mile away. Flying at an altitude of 1000 feet over open country it is possible for an eagle to spot prey over 3 square miles.

Eagles shouldn't be caged. From several hundred feet above the water a soaring or flying eagle can spot fish. And since most fish are counter-shaded, darker on the top and harder to see from above, this is an extraordinary feat.

So, why is this eagle caged? It has a permanent injury. Release means death. Kind keepers provide a safe place for it to live out its life. A nice thing to do. The eagle seems content but it's not the creature it was created to be. Life restricted. Food provided. Needs met. But there are no wind currents for its 90 inch wing span to battle, no enemy to fight, no resistance, no risks, no fresh fish or live rabbit to hunt. In a cage, life is safe and soft.

Eagles shouldn't be caged. The cage that protects also kills. A slow, undetected death, but death nevertheless. The cage kills the eagle's soul. It flutters from one branch to another. It eats what's provided. No challenges. No risks. No resistance. No reward. It lives out its days as a trophy to caring humans and a wonder to admiring tourists. But inside this grand bird is dying. The cage robs the eagle of its "eagleness."

We shouldn't be caged either. Take away our freedom to soar, to resist, to build, to reproduce, to live freely and fully, and our souls wither and die. A cage, no matter how good the intentions, is still a cage. Cages tend to become permanent. The keepers have the key. The occupants adjust to their confinement. Freedom is forgotten--a hazy dream of what was.

Watch out for cages that offer a safe place, a quick fix, a helping hand. No matter how inviting, it may become your permanent home. "It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again with a yoke of slavery" Galatians 5:1.

A Confession

Hear the word of the Lord: "If we claim that we're free from sin, we're only fooling ourselves. A claim like that is errant nonsense" I John 1:8.

This is our sin: We have preached love but we have not loved. We have judged others harder than we have judged ourselves and then we have arrogantly separated ourselves from them.

We have manipulated others for our own selfish interest. We have ignored the neediest and catered to the successful.

Those who are different draw our suspicion rather than our compassion. And some who have sinned we decided not to forgive.

We submit to the power-brokers, bow to the intelligent, admire the strong, and worship the gifted. Yet the bankrupt in spirit pass by us untouched, unnoticed, and unloved.

In all these ways and more, Lord, we have wounded your Body.

O God of grace and compassion, have mercy on us.

"On the other hand, if we admit--make a clean breast of our sins--he won't let us down, he'll be true to himself. He'll forgive our sins and purge us of all wrongdoing" I John 1:9.

God To-Go

"Maybe I have been living much too fast, too restlessly, too feverishly, forgetting to pay attention to what is happening here and now, right under my nose ... you have to be still and wait so that you can realize that God is not in the earthquake, the storm, or the lightening, but in the gentle breeze with which he touches your back." Henri Nouwen

What did God do after creation? He rested. Did God need rest? Does God get tired, fatigued, or exhausted? Or, did God rest for our sakes? Did he stop working to model what we need to do to soak up his presence and hear his voice?

It's not easy to stop.

We're wired to produce. Time is money. Rest is a waste of time. Meditation is a lost discipline. We'll take God on-the-run, God to-go. Drive through windows would work well for church. "I'll have a God-burger, a spiritual side salad with oil of the Spirit dressing, and a large Holy Water to go please."

"Do you want to super-size that?"

"Sure."

Spiritual fast food? Not a bad idea for 21st century too-busy-to-breathe-Christians.

C.S. Lewis wrote in one of his letters, "Lord, how I loathe big issues!" He was reacting to pretentiousness that only sees significance in the big accomplishments--in the noisy, hurried, grand, attention-grabbing headlines we try so desperately to create for ourselves.

The most important things can only be learned in our response to the God-in-the-gentle-breeze. "This is what the Sovereign Lord, the Holy One of Israel says: 'In repentance and rest is your salvation, in quietness and trust is your strength, but you would have none of it'" (Isaiah 30:15).

No fast food here.

The drive through window just slammed shut.

Salvation comes from unhurried leisure where we stop long enough to repent from our self-aggrandizing labor and quiet our souls to hear Papa's voice. Inner strength comes from a quiet-faith that changes the question of our lives. The question changes from "How much have we accomplished today" to "How much time have we spent in Papa's presence today?"

Why don't we stop?

We're convinced we're indispensable. From this we need to repent. True spirituality is born when our hearts and minds are quiet and still in God's presence. Over-busy people won't do it.

What if we stopped all the over-doing in our lives? Would anyone care? Would the world fall apart? No.

It's time to stop. Repent. Rest. And rediscover Papa-God's life-giving presence.

Throw Away My Bible?

What if a prophet had the courage to forbid us to read the Bible? What if the prophet required that we bring all our Bibles to a mountain and turn them in?

Then, while we all kneel together on the mountain, the prophet prays this prayer: "God, please take back this book. We are not fit to read it. It only makes us proud, self-righteous, unhappy, and divisive. We aren't ready for it."

Not the best prayer? Maybe not. But an honest prayer.

We're distant cousins to the farmers who lost their income and investments because Jesus spoiled their herds of pigs with demons. The pigs plunged to their death off a cliff. And the farmers begged Jesus to "leave our neighborhood." We can't handle raw truth.

The matter is simple. The Bible is God's love letter to us. It's as easy to understand as any letter between two lovers. But we're schemers. We don't want to understand it.

Deep inside ourselves we know that if we understand what Papa-God says to us then we're obligated to obey it. And we know if we obey what God says our lives will never be the same. We're ruined!

So, we reinvent what the Bible says. We soften it. We reinterpret it. We're dishonest with the message. Wouldn't we be more honest to store it?

Of course, there is another way: "My heart is set on keeping your decrees to the very end" Ps. 119:112.

* a thought taken from the spiritual writings of Kierkegaard

My Noisy Mind

"Silence," wrote Wayne Oates, "is not native to my world."

It's not native to our world either. Most of us are strangers to silence.

Yet we've heard an invitation to silence spoken in hushed tones at the beginning of a worship service or written in italics on the front of a church bulletin: "Be still and know that I am God." We assume it's a gentle invitation to settle down and meet God.

Do we know where these words come from? Somewhere in the bible? Maybe the Psalms?

Psalm 46: "Be still and know that I am God; I will be exalted among the nations, I will be exalted in the earth." If we read the Psalm we discover this is not a quiet invitation but sharp words of command. Something a teacher might say to unruly students.

Stop talking! Shut off the noise! Turn off your cell phone! Unplug your IPod! Put your Blackberry down! Get quiet!

In plain English: 's-h-u-t u-p!'

But who likes to be told what do? We don't. We send text messages in church. "Who are you to tell me to be quiet?"

"I'm God. And you obviously have no clue what that means or you'd fall on your face, shut your mouth, and lay trembling in my presence! It's My turn to talk; it's your turn to listen. Stop your noise, listen up. You might learn something."

"I will flex my muscles and be 'exalted among the nations' and 'exalted in the earth.' Every one in every place will know who I AM. Without exception."

God demands our full attention: "Come and see the works of the Lord, the desolations he has brought on the earth; he makes wars cease to the ends of the earth; he breaks the bow and shatters the spear, he burns the shields with fire." God-resistance is conquered. No one and nothing withstands His power. Evil knocked out. Peace restored. Life is centered in Him: "The Lord Almighty is with us; the God of Jacob is our fortress."

Why can't we see this?

Could it be that our minds and souls are dulled by our noisy world? Self-generated noise. Addicted noise. Distracting noise.

Am I willing to shut the noise off?

Only when I dare to obey the Spirit's command--"Stand silent!"--will I cultivate a quiet heart that is prepared to "know that God is God!"

The Lily and a Bird

"Once upon a time," Kierkegaard writes as he tells the story of a lily and a bird. I'll retell it in my own words, maybe Kierkegaard won't mind.

Once upon a time a lily grew in a secluded place beside a clear, running brook. It lived in happy companionship with some nettles and a few little flowers that grew nearby. The lily was beautiful--more so than King Solomon's glory--and carefree and happy.

One day a little bird visited the lily. It came the next day and then disappeared. The bird's actions seemed strange to the lily who wondered why the bird was so fickle, why didn't the bird stay put like the little flowers nearby?

The little bird was proud and naughty. Instead of delighting in the lily's beauty, the bird showed off its freedom by coming and going at will, making the lily feel its bondage. The bird added insult to injury by telling the lily about other places where lilies grew more beautiful than it and where life was one endless party.

Visit after visit the little bird humiliated the lily until the lily wondered if it had a right to be called a lily at all. So the lily began to worry. "I'm inferior and insignificant," the lily said to itself, "If I had only been placed somewhere else, under different circumstances, then I might become the most magnificent lily in the field!"

Day after day the bird flew back and forth and with each visit the lily became more despondent. Finally, the lily confided in the little bird. And the bird agreed to help. Early the next morning the little bird arrived and pecked away at the soil around the lily's root. In time, the lily was free. And, according to their plan to relocate the lily to a better place, the little bird picked up the lily in its beak and flew off to replant the lily in a new place where life would be magnificent, full. and happy.

But, on the way the lily wilted, withered, and died.

Is the grass always greener on the other side? Does my contentment rest in where I am or in where I am not? Do I get preoccupied with wanting more and more and more, and wanting to be somewhere else, wanting to beat my competition that I forget the dignity of my own humanity and the graciousness of my Creator?

"If God gives such attention to the appearance of wildflowers--most of which are never even seen--don't you think he'll attend to you, take pride in you, do his best for you? What I'm trying to do here is to get you to relax, to not be so preoccupied with getting, so you can respond to God's giving" -- Jesus, Matt. 6:30-31.

Holy Foolishness

"We know we are deep in His presence when we notice in ourselves a holy foolishness" (Thomas More).

Most of us never get there. We're not sure we want to get there. Holy foolishness is not one of the top ten experiences on our spiritual wish list. Holy composure, holy mysticism, holy awe, holy silence--these might make our list, not holy foolishness.

Isn't there enough religious foolishness already in the world? Who wants more?

But something strange happens when people who hunger for God are unexpectedly filled with an all but unbearable voltage of God's presence. His intrusion is so violent that it causes an eruption of uncontainable praise and worship. Our souls are too small to contain God's invasion. We cannot possibly sit still; we cannot stay quiet. Something has to give.

It is as the old spiritual says,

"Sit down, Brother!"
"I can't sit down!"
"Sit down, Brother!"
"I can't sit down!"
"Sit down, Brother!"
"I can't sit down.
I just got to heaven
and I can't sit down."

Cold composure, controlled sanctity won't work in times like this. (What has cold religion done for anyone anyway?)

Warning: holy foolishness is a risk to normal religious life. It is Spirit-ignited wildfire. Watch out. If the Wind blows on the flames, they'll spread out of control.

Holy foolishness. Are we ready for it?

"Do not quench the Spirit" (I Th. 5:9).

Where Would Jesus Go To Church?

Where would Jesus go to church?

To my church, of course!

Like faithful Jews in his day, Jesus went to synagogue. But then he didn't have a lot of choices. If Jesus was going to worship, the local synagogue was his only choice.

We have choices. Check out your Yellow Pages. The church-of-your-choice is listed between Chiropractors and Clinics--Mental Health. Interesting companions.

Would Jesus visit High Church? High Church gives the appearance of having everything worked out. The liturgy covers the seasons of our lives. There is something secure, solid, peaceful about repetition of religious ritual like drinking a good cup of coffee every morning at the same time out of the same mug. It fits the moment.

How about Low Church? Would Jesus visit Low Church where unstructured worship and shoot-from-the-hip sermons stir up lazy emotions and excite the soul? In Low Church a quiet service is no service; planning is anathema to the freedom of the Spirit; unstirred emotions a failure. There is something exciting about spontaneity.

Maybe Jesus would be more comfortable in Middle Church where the best of both worlds are embraced--order and freedom, planning and spontaneity? Middle Church may not have God figured out, but they're well on their way. In Middle Church people sit in the same seat, sing the same songs, give the same amount, and listen to variations of the same sermons. Occasionally, something surprises them.

So, where would Jesus go to church? Would he rotate between them all? Would he go at all? Which one does he prefer? High? Low? Middle? Do we know?

"O friend, do you not have a sense of the way to the Father? Then you must press your spirit to bow daily before God, and wait for breathings to you from his Spirit" (Isaac Penington).

Who Am I?

"Who am I?" The question Bonhoeffer asked himself while confined in a German prison cell. "Who am I? They often tell me I step from my cell's confinement calmly, cheerfully, firmly. like a Squire from his country house."

Am I what others see? Or am I only what I know myself to be? Soul-rocking questions. Questions begging to be asked and answered.

"Who am I?" Bold, confident, self-assured or timid, insecure, self-demeaning? Am I both at once? Do I wear a mask of confidence to conceal a timid soul? Have I played the pretence game so long that I can no longer distinguish the real me from the phony me?

"Who am I?" One or the other? Does it matter? Am I one person today and another person tomorrow? Am I one person in one situation and different person in a different situation? Does it matter?

It's confusing.

God has no difficulty with these questions: "I AM WHO I AM," He announced to Moses. "I am all that I appear to be. No inner contradictions. Holy wholeness. Nothing changes. Love without compromise. Truth without shading. Purity without blemish. I AM!"

And that was enough for Moses. It was enough for him to know the God who is present, personal, and ready to act. It was enough for Moses to know that God was not abstract, impersonal, and weak. It was enough for Moses to know God knows who He is the I AM in whom all of life finds its center.

The name spoken from the burning shrub means God is present and personal with me. He is here. Now. Present. Powerful. Compassionate. Forgiving. Merciful. Ready to help.

No more self made gods. No more gods to be bribed, flattered, or appeased. No more political, economic, intellectual, or religious gods that promise more than they give and over time drain every ounce of life from my soul.

"I AM WHO I AM" does not define God. God cannot be defined. It describes Him, but it doesn't tell everything. It says, "I am really here." And that's enough for now.

So, I drag my confused soul before I AM. There, in His loving reflection, I see who I am. And there I put to rest these swirling questions that haunt my soul.

Breaking Bad

It was nothing. Nothing significant. Nothing earthshaking. Nothing. But it mattered to me. I missed an easy pitch shot while playing a par five yesterday. My drive from the tee box was nearly perfect, my second shot with a fairway wood was equally good. My ball was 60 yards off the green. A nice pitch shot and I'm putting for birdie or par.

But I skulled the pitch shot. My ball dribbled less than ten embarrassing yards, stopped, and stared at me as if to say, "You dummy!"

I slammed the leading edge of my pitching wedge into the ground! "Damn! Any golfer worth their salt can make that shot!"

Anger is a hard taskmaster. Without warning it bubbles out of my soul like hot oil. No one was scorched. It was over in minutes. But it didn't improve my game or reduce my score. I couldn't take the shot over. What was done was done. I had to live with it.

Maybe I think I'm a better golfer than I am? Maybe I hold myself to a higher expectations than I have the right to? I seldom practice. I haven't sought help from a PGA professional. I play and repeat the same mistakes over and over and over. Yet a bad shot angers me.

Much of life is like that. We don't put in the time or discipline but we expect good results. We don't spend a real time with God but we expect God to show up and take care of us. I guess we're spiritual duffers. A lucky shot now and then, but fortunate to break 100.

Those who enter into Christ's being here for us no longer have to live under a continuous low-lying cloud. A new power is in operation. The Spirit of life in Christ, like a strong wind has magnificently cleared the air, freeing you from a fated lifetime of brutal tyranny at the hands of sin and death (Rom. 8:1,2, The Message).

Unrighteous anger finds its match in Him.

A Quiet Place

"We feel honestly the pull of many obligations and try to fulfill them all. And we are unhappy, uneasy, strained, oppressed, and fearful we shall be shallow... We have hints that there is a life vastly richer and deeper than all this hurried existence, a life of unhurried serenity and peace and power. If only we could slip into that Center!... We have seen and known some people who have found this deep Center of living, where the fretful calls of life are integrated, where No as well as Yes can be said with confidence." [Thomas Kelly]

If only we could slip into that Center!

Can we find the Center while we trudge knee deep in the muck of everyday life? Or like the spiritual mystics that preceded us, should we withdraw, drop out of the race, and find a quiet place? Will a few minutes of prayer, bible reading, and meditation do the trick? Or do we need a secret place, a private world in which we rediscover the Center of living?

In our quiet place we stop long enough to hear Papa's voice, we relax enough to receive Papa's peace, we lay down our defences long enough to receive Papa's strength.

Jesus waits for us there. He calls, "Come, learn of Me."

In our quiet place we "slip over into that Center!"