Stuff That Bugged Me Today

Today (Friday) I had a few errands to run. Nothing big, just a few groceries at Sam's Club and Walmart. But there were a few things that bugged me as I went about my business. Just let me vent, okay?

• Between people trying to drive and talk on the phone and people walking around the store yapping on their phones I've had about all I can take. Get over yourselves. Nobody is that important.
  
• Anybody noticed the price increases lately? Man, everything is going up. And not just a few cents either.
• I don't know how I do it, but I always seem to get a shopping cart that has one square wheel. Drives me crazy.
• Why do some people think the "20 items or less" sign at the express checkout doesn't apply to them? Do they just not see it? Can't they count?
• Some road construction projects just never end. Never!

I feel better now.

Alone or Lonely?

I woke up this morning (3:00am) with this Scripture on my mind:

Then the Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone ..."
~ Genesis 2:18



Boy, I thought, that's so true. It's just too quiet around here.
I think I'm beginning to miss my wife. She'll be home next Tuesday (March 4).

Are Scientists Smarter Than Me?

I ran across this headline while cruising the internet last night:

Hope Dims That Earth Will Survive Sun's Death

Well, Duh?

The article goes on to say this:

"The future looks bright for the earth - but not in the way we'd hoped. The slim chance our planet will survive when the Sun begins it's death throes has been ruled out.

In a few billion years, the Sun will fuse the last of it's hydrogen into helium, turn into a red giant and expand to 250 times it's current size. At first, the Sun's loss of mass will loosen it's gravitational pull on Earth, which will allow the planet to migrate to a wider orbit about 7.6 bilion years from now.

This process had led some to specualte that the Earth might escape destruction - but survival now seems impossible, says Peter Schroder of the University of Guanajuato in Mexico and Robert Smith of the University of Sussex in the UK."

Now I may not be the brightest crayon in the box, but I do think I've got the whole "Earth-Sun- thing" figured out. I think I learned it in about the third grade. Apparently they've just now concluded that, if the sun burns out we're all toast.

Why do I suspect that a lot of serious time and energy (not to mention money) went in to making this brilliant "scientific" determination?

They should have called me last Saturday. With my wife out of town I had some time to kill. I could have helped them figure this out.

Fishing

"Cast the net on the right-hand side of the boat, and you will find a catch." They cast therefore, and then they were not able to haul it in because of the great number of fish.

Simon Peter went up, and drew the net to land, full of large fish, a hundred and fifty three ...
~ John 21:6, 11

Recently I learned about fishing in the first century from a bonified expert on the subject. In Jesus' day fishermen fished for two kinds of fish: sardines (small fish) and talapia (large fish.) The techniques used for fishing the two were very different. Sardine fishing was done close to shore. A group of men would work a drag net together to encompass a school of the small fish while a few others cast a fine-meshed net from a boat to catch the fish contained within the drag net. Talapia fishing was done in somewhat deeper waters with a larger cast net from a boat.

In John 21, following the death and resurrection of Jesus, Peter and six other disciples decided to go fishing. The Bible says they fished all night without a catch. As the new day dawned, Jesus stood on the shore and called out to them (maybe a bit sarcastically), "You do not have any fish, do you?"
They sheepishly replied, "No."
"Cast the net net on the right-hand side of the boat ..." And of course, they found the elusive catch of fish.

It would seem by the number of disciples involved in this fishing endeavor and their proximity to the shore (remember, Jesus was able to call to them from the shore) that they were sardine fishing. But Jesus told them to cast their net on the other side of the boat, away from the drag net. And the Bible says the fish they caught were "large fish" - Talapia.

The disciples were fishing for the wrong kind of fish from the wrong side of the boat. They were close to success; just a boat-width away. It took a word from the Lord, a little bit of instruction and obedience, to change their frustration and failure to success.

I think quite often I'm like those disciples. I'm fishing for the wrong kind of fish on the wrong side of the boat. I go headlong into something without direction only to find myself frustrated at my lack of success. I don't lack for effort, and my motives are right. I just need direction. I need to learn to wait until I hear a word.
Like those disciples, I forget His admonition, "... apart from Me you can do nothing."

Paul's First Draft of the Epistle to the Romans?

Understanding Grace

Last evening following our worship service in the prison, an inmate caught me by the hand. I could tell that he had something to say. He's been with us for the past few months and was baptized just a few weeks ago. He's typically so quiet and reserved it's been really difficult to get to know him. But I can tell God is doing something great in his life. When he spoke I had to lean in to hear him.

He said he's really been wanting to live this life in Christ his whole life. But he's never felt worthy. He was always made to feel that he just couldn't measure up. Church and family kept him at bay. Too many rules. Too much "stuff" in his own life that didn't look like christian stuff should look.

Now, in prison at forty eight years old, he feels like he's finally getting it. He's been set free. The message he's been hearing is simple enough: Grace. Grace apart from rules. Grace without expectations. Just the all-sufficient grace of God.
With tears welling-up in his eyes, he said he finally felt like he could have the life he's always desired. Life in Christ. He finally feels like there's a place for him in the kingdom. He thanked me.

I'm humbled when I hear things like that. But it makes me wonder, too. What have we done to the message of the gospel to make people feel as if they can't have Christ? What kind of fences have we constructed? We scorn the Pharisees of Jesus day, but are we any different?

We sing the words to the old hymn, "Amazing grace, how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me, ..." Do we ever think about the words we sing?

It's Quiet Around My House Today

My wife left me.



Before you panic and start calling the prayer chain to ask for prayer for my wretched soul, I didn't drive her away. She's gone for a few weeks to visit her mom and dad in Minnesota. Two weeks ago she was laid off from her job so I encouraged her to take the opportunity to go and see her folks. The only problem is I miss her. As nuts as she can make me, (and I'm sure the opposite is true, too) I love her.

When she's here she often complains that I don't talk enough. I probably don't, but it's only because I don't have anything to say. I'm perfectly content just to have her here with me.
No words necessary.

Stewards of Grace

"As each one has received a special gift, employ it in serving one another as good stewards of the manifold grace of God."
1 Peter 4:10

We've been entrusted with God's grace as stewards, not made guardians of it.

Grace for All-Time

I was channel surfing the other day (as I am wont to do) when I came across a Bible teacher. I stopped momentarily when I heard him say, "Of course, we know that the concept of grace was ushered in with the New Testament," intimating that, prior to the New Testament, there simply is no grace found anywhere.
Pastor Benny and his flock "oohed" and "aahed" at such profound-sounding teaching. I thought to myself, "Well, that's certainly profound alright. Profoundly W-R-O-N-G!" It's been bugging me ever since.

Grace only in the New Testament? Wouldn't that mean that the unchangeable God changed? To see grace as a purely New Testament concept would mean that the Incarnation of Christ was for God a reversal of His previous work rather than a culmination. I just don't see it.

Instead, I see God's grace on display throughout the Old Testament.

• Noah knew God's grace. When the Lord saw the wickedness of mankind and said,"I will destroy man whom I have created from the face of the earth," the very next verse says, "But Noah found grace in the eyes of the Lord." (Genesis 6:8)
• God graciously made a covenant with Abraham, rooted in faith and premised solely on God's grace. "I will make you a great nation and I will bless you ..." (Genesis 12:2)
• God Himself proclaimed Himself gracious as He allowed His glory to pass by as Moses stood on Mt. Sinai. (Exodus 34:6)
• The blessing the Lord commanded Aaron to speak over the children of Israel (Numbers 6:24-26) extols the grace of God: "The Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make His face to shine upon you, And be gracious to you; the Lord lift up His countenance upon you; and give you peace."
• Jonah knew God's grace. He complained bitterly of God's grace when God spared Nineveh. "I knew that Thou art a gracious and compassionate God, ..." (Jonah 4:2)
• Psalm 84:11 says: The Lord gives grace and glory, ...

Obviously, the grace of God is prevalent throughout the Scriptures. What is different in the New Testament is simply this: Jesus Christ is the embodiment of His grace. What was for centuries a theologically "Is He or Isn't He" kind of characteristic of the unseen God became tangible in the Person of Christ. "And the Word became flesh and dwelt among us, and we beheld His glory, glory as of the only begotten of the Father, full of grace and truth."

Whether Noah in an age of wickedness, or Moses on a mountain staring at His glory. Whether an old man named Abraham contending with old age, or the Apostle Paul contending in ministry. Whether you in your struggles or me with my issues. Old Testament or New. He is the same. And His grace really is sufficient for us all.

The Rules of Faith

I've never been one to follow the rules. It's a running joke with those closest to me: I've just always had a bit of a rebellious streak in me. I like to color outside the lines.

Funny thing is, as much as I like to think of myself as a rebel, I'm finding that I've had a fairly long list of pretty arbitrary rules I've been applying to faith: My faith and that of those around me. It's a list many will recognize because it's the same list many use. My list has included church attendance, (and that needs to be at the "right kind" of church.) The right appearance. The right doctrine. The right motives and attitudes. The right music. The right politics. And on ... and on.
As I've stepped back and begun to examine my beliefs I've found that I am guilty of applying some pretty stringent standards on those who call themselves Christians. The problem is I can't find those same standards applied in Scripture the way I've tried to apply them.
Instead, I find Jesus talking with a Samaritan woman who's got man problems: She'd been married to five of them. He forgave an adulterous woman. He healed on the Sabbath and He touched those considered to be unclean. He dared to invite "common folks" to know God.
It was all more than the "rules monitors" of His day could stand. They felt their role of "kingdom protectors" was at risk.

Everytime they pointed out the rules, Jesus pointed out God's grace. He's been doing the same with me.

Funny how He let me into the kingdom without my having an inkling of the rules, or how I am supposed to conduct myself. There was no list of rules for me, just His grace extended to me. But somehow, over the past twenty plus years, I've become the self-appointed enforcer of the rules of faith. He's been reminding me that I'm not the "keeper of His Kingdom."

The grace of God trumps all of the rules.

Driven to Prayer

"I have been driven many times upon my knees by the overwhelming conviction that I had nowhere else to go. My own wisdom and that of all about me seemed insufficient for that day."
~ Abraham Lincoln

Do You Have A Good Reason?

I've been rereading the Book of Jonah over the past week and I seem to be finding much about this prophet, his life, his calling, and his relationship with God that I identify with.

In Jonah 4:4, God asked Jonah a simple question. It's a question that has been reverberating over and over again in my head and heart.
After preaching a simple, yet powerful message of repentance in Nineveh, the Bible says the people responded overwhelmingly. As if in an old time tent meeting revival, the entire city repented of their sins and began to call on God earnestly. But Jonah became angry at this incredible move of the Almighty among a people he deemed most unworthy. You can practically hear the accusatory tone in the words of Jonah the prophet of God: "I knew that Thou art a gracious and compassionate God, slow to anger and abundant in lovingkindness, and One who relents concerning calamity."

God responded with this question: "Do you have a good reason to be angry?"

Ouch! Is anybody else the least bit amazed, surprised, shocked, or concerned about the level of anger all around us? Everybody, even Christians, seems to be angry about something. And everybody seems content to somehow justify their anger.
Here locally, we've seen and heard the angry rants from both sides of the seemingly widening racial divide during the recent sheriff's election. Politicians spew anger toward one another, and everyone's angry with our politicians. Issues divide us and cultures divide us.
Black. White. Latino. Conservative. Liberal. Republican. Democrat. Rich. Poor. Middle class. Old. Young. Middle-aged. Men are mad at women and women are mad at men. Husbands and wives are divorcing at an alarming rate. Everybody is choosing sides. And everybody seems to have a chip on their shoulder. It just doesn't take much these days to ignite a firestorm in our society. Or in our churches. And sometimes I'm as guilty as anyone.

"Do you have a good reason to be angry?" Coming from anyone else that question itself might cause an angry reaction. But it's the Lord doing the asking. So as I've thought about it, and prayed about it, and looked at my own life I've come to the obvious answer. "No, Lord, I don't have a good reason to be angry." Not one single reason.

Amazing Grace

Sin cannot be managed.

That seems pretty simple and straightforward, right?

So then why do so many of us spend so much time and energy doing just that? Rather than stand before the Lord openly and honestly and allow Him to face our sins with us, we try to manage our sins and hope to keep them to a minimum. We strive to "do better."
Of course, we have some good days when we avoid sin and, as a result, we feel closer to God. But when bad days come, and we struggle with our shortcomings and lose the sin battles, we feel unworthy of His love and grace.
In the end, we always feel ashamed, and unworthy, and even disillusioned with a faith we cannot sustain.
Trying to manage our sin makes us pretenders in life. We wear masks. We "play the game" without ever really winning. In fact, there is no winning because managing our sin is like trying to put a cork in a smoldering volcano. The erruption always comes eventually.

The Scriptures teach us to confess our sins. Carry them to the Lord and own up to them. Point out the ugliness of our acts, and the darkness deep inside us where those things spring from, and the pain that our sin brings to ourselves and those who love us. Don't try to manage it - confess it.

Something happens when I confess my sin in this way. The Lord wraps an arm around my shoulder and stands with me. And together, we face the sin and deal with it.
That's the definition of grace. We face it together. The Lord and me. Can you get your mind around that? Many can't, you know? We've been so programmed to strive for holiness, and filled with teaching that puts the impetus for righteousness on us, that we just can't seem to see Jesus looking at our sin with us and saying, "Mmm. I've seen worse. I can handle that."

No wonder they call His grace amazing.

Why Am I ...?

I seem to be in that place of asking a lot of questions over the past few weeks.

This morning as I was praying, I asked the Lord this question: Lord, why am I so N-U-T-S about everything? Seriously, why am I so freaking intense about everything - I mean everything - that goes on? Check it out:

• Politics. The primaries. Super Tuesday. Republican. Democrat. Liberals versus conservatives. Who's saying what? Who's winning delegates? I wake up thinking about that stuff. I follow it with such intensity you'd think I was the one running.
• Sports. If you've ever watched a game with me, you know. Ask my wife and daughters. Football. Hockey. I can't sit still. I act like my teams need me to pull out a victory. I can't just sit and watch passively. No, I've got to fuss and holler. By the time any game I watch ends, I'm emotionally spent.
• Chrisitanity. Doctrine. Preaching. Teaching. I can't just deliver a message or teach a lesson. I seem to be consumed by it.

You name it, and if I've ever had even a fleeting thought about it, I've probably invested my soul into it to the point of almost losing my sanity. I struggle to cook a "normal" meal - in my mind, it's got to be something outrageous, something extraordinary. Conversation is difficult because my intensity level seems to rise to unnatural (and unhealthy) levels.

Why am I this way? Did God wire me this way when He knit me together in my mother's womb? Or did I fall on my head when I was little, causing irrepairable damage that makes me this way? Should I be seeking to change? To mellow-out as I get older?

I don't know why I am the way I am. But maybe it's a good sign that I am now asking the Lord why I'm like this. I don't know. What I do know is this: My wife and daughters deserve some kind of extra reward in eternity. Thanks, girls, for all the years of rolling your eyes and stifling a laugh, and saying, "That's just our dad" rather than running away.

My Mt. Carmel

Mt. Carmel was the scene of some of Elijah's greatest moments as a prophet of God. It's the place he challenged King Ahab and all of the false prophets at work in Israel. It's the place he called fire down from heaven to consume his sacrifice and turned the people back to the Lord. He slew the false prophets and prayed for the rain Israel hadn't seen in three and a half years. Then he outran the king's chariot back to Jezreel, nearly twenty miles away.
All in a day's work for God's man.

As ministers, we're always looking for our "Mt. Carmel" moments. (Admit it. You know it's the truth.) We all want to experience those times when the power of God is evident in signs and wonders and the people respond. I'd love to call down a move of God on par with Mt. Carmel.
But the reality is that Mt. Carmel doesn't happen often. Smoke and fire and thunder from heaven consuming our sacrifices and proving our God just isn't an everyday occurrence. At least not for me.

This week I'll baptize sixteen prison inmates, all of whom have made a profession of faith in Christ. They're ready to "go public" with this thing. Sixteen men! Convicts turning to the Lord!
The truth is I feel like we've just kind of been plodding along. No flashes. No fire. No false prophets to be slain. Nothing extraordinary. Just showing up every day. But lives are being changed by the power of God nonetheless.

Mt. Carmel would be kind of cool. Some noise and fire and smoke would sure shake things up. But It seems to me that if we spend all of our time looking for the next "Mt. Carmel" move of the Almighty, we might miss what's He's doing in us, through us, and all around us. And that would be a shame.

In A World of Hurt

I facilitate a class on Monday evenings at Charlotte Correctional Center called Father Accountability. It's a parenting skills class I've developed over the past two years and I lead fifteen inmates at a time (all of whom have children) through the thirteen weekly sessions. The class is not "a Bible study group led by the chaplain" as most would expect. It's open to anyone who wants to learn to be a better father to his children. We get all kinds.
The first few weeks we spend a lot of time talking about our own fathers, and the habits and practices we've learned from them, and the baggage we've brought to the role of father from our own father-son relationships. For many, it's a very difficult thing to go back and re-live our childhood memories (or lack of memories) of our own fathers. But it's necessary.

Last week we got deep into one of these sessions with a new group of dads, and it got really heavy. The anger and pain poured forth from most of the men in the room. Anger toward fathers who were never there. Painful memories of abuse and worse.
One inmate said he hated his father. Some never knew their fathers at all so they had no reference point whatsoever. Another told how his father murdered his brother. One had tried to kill his father in a heated moment. The only thing that prevented such a tragedy was "the gun jammed." Another became visibly angry with me for bringing up the memories. He fumed and fussed and finally stormed out of the meeting.

I went home that evening with a knot in my stomach. I felt sick for days afterward. It was one of the most troubling scenes I've ever been a part of. I'd never seen such venemous anger; such raw pain. It felt as if we'd left a gut-pile on the floor. We're talking about fathers and sons!
I wondered if I was wrong to go there. Had I misread these men? Who am I to tear the scabs off of those old wounds? What business do I have performing such delicate surgery in this place?

But one week later it seems as if it may have done much good. Yes! The pain is still very real. No! We can't go back and change any of it. But recognizing it seems to be helping some come to terms with why they are the way they are, and why they do the stuff they do.

Maybe now the healing can begin.

The Funny Thing About Binoculars

Have you ever looked through the wrong end of binoculars? That's the funny thing about binoculars: If you look through the wrong end you end getting the exact opposite of what is intended. Instead of something far away being made closer to you, you end up seeing it even farther away.

I think that for much of my adult life, I've been looking through the wrong end of the "binoculars" of Christianity. The things that should allow me to see God closer to me and know Him in much greater detail have done the opposite. It's not that I've had the wrong tools. I've just been looking through the wrong end. I've been looking through the "striving to be holy" end of the binoculars rather than through the "grace" end. Too often I've looked through the "I've got to do this" end rather than the "He's already done it" end. And often He's looked farther away than when I first began this walk.

Prayer. The Scriptures. Worship. Preaching. Teaching. The fellowship of the local church body.
All of these are the binoculars by which we should be seeing the Lord closer and closer. But when we look through the wrong end - when these become demands placed upon us, or penances for our sinfulness, or even a means to achieve holiness and thereby please God - He ends up looking further and further away from us. His image becomes smaller and we see less of Him.

I'm being more careful these days to make sure I'm seeing things as I'm meant to see them. I'm being careful to look through the right end of the "binoculars." I'm still striving - But now I'm striving to see it all through the lens of His grace.
And what a difference I see!