None of the Above

Today, the elephant is angry, fat and listless.
Today, the jackass is aimless, selfish and works for no one.
The lesser of two evils?
Is that really "choice"?
One nation under God?
Enter Jesus:
"Simply let your 'Yes' be 'Yes',
and your 'No,' 'No';
anything beyond this
comes from the evil one."
Now pull the lever.

Listening & Soft Tacos

Several years ago, I was sitting in a crowded Taco Bell, during the lunch time rush, with a pile of soft tacos in front of me. Noting comforts the soul quite like Taco Bell, and I am convinced that the soft taco, with hot sauce, is the closest representation we have of what manna from heaven must have been like. It's an existential experience.

Now where was I? Oh, so I'm opening my first taco, sitting at a table close to the back of the restaurant with at least five other tables between the front door entrance and me. Each table was full of people eating a quick lunch before heading back to work. It was in between bites of my second soft taco that I saw him. He was a young homeless man wearing old jeans and a faded black jacket, but not your typical homeless guy. In fact, I remember him so well because he looked exactly like Jack Black. Somewhere in between homeless, and a drifting musician. His hair was uncut and disheveled and he looked agitated and anxious as he paced outside the front door. He was jittery and confused looking, almost as if he were working up the nerve to come inside. Finally, he stopped, looked up, scratched his head and made his way to the entrance. It was quite obvious that he was searching for people to lend him some spare change, so what did I do? I kept my head down, just in case he decided to approach my table during his quest. Well, not only did he decide to approach me, but ONLY me. It was almost as if he knew who he was looking for, as he deliberately walked passed each table, and headed straight for me. It was intentional. Deliberate. Mechanical.

I sighed and thought to myself, “Why me!?” I was hungry, tired and way too focused on myself to want to care, but I did. He stopped at my table, lowered his head and spoke. “Sir, do you happen to have any spare change?” "Why me?!" I didn't want to care! They're were other people in the restaurant! My soft tacos were getting cold! Well, the moment of truth came and went. I failed. I retreated. I didn't even have to check my pockets. I simply said "no" and turned my eyes back to my lunch. He said thank you, turned straight around and followed his same deliberate bee-line path out of the front door; not stopping to solicit money from anyone else. He was out of my life.

It wasn't until several minutes later that the previous rhetorical question repeated in my mind. “Why me?”, I asked myself, only this time for a different reason. Why did this man walk into a crowded restaurant, pass several tables full of people and walk straight to me? Why did he leave without approaching any other tables? What was the real purpose of this encounter? Whatever the reason, I felt shame, anger and conviction. I dropped what was left of my lunch, left the restaurant, jumped in my car and began my search for this man. I don't know what I would have said to him. I don't know what difference it would have made. But I drove for what seemed like 30 minutes, and was unable to find him. He was gone.

I don’t think that there is any question that God speaks to His people. Sometimes His words are louder than others, and sometimes they come in the form of that still, quiet voice that we often dismiss as coincidence or imagination. C.S. Lewis once said that, “God whispers to us in our pleasures, speaks in our conscience, but shouts in our pains: it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world.” I believe that this is why we seem to grow so much out of our struggles. Either way, He speaks to us, and the more that we seek fellowship with Him, the more we will hear and hopefully heed.

The Bible tells us stories of the great prophets that had the privilege of hearing God’s voice in an audible manner. The disciples walked the earth with Christ Himself. But fro us, until we leave this temporary home, we rely on faith, trust and obedience in what He tells us through prayer and communion with Him. “Consequently, faith comes from hearing the message, and the message is heard through the word of Christ.” (Romans 10:17) See, I think that if we listen; really listen, His presence in our lives will be more powerful than it was over 2000 years ago when He walked the Earth in the form of a man. That power comes from the Holy Spirit as Christ promised in Luke 24:49, “I am going to send you what my Father has promised;” and again in John 14:16. Basically, Jesus was saying, "Guys, I know it's going to be touch when I'm gone, but you have no idea how much better it's going to be! You have no clue how much closer you will be to me!"

“If anyone hears my voice and opens the door, I will come in and eat with him, and he with me.” (Revelation 3:20) Let us listen to that small voice in the back of our minds. In Christ, there is no coincidence: only His Holy Spirit urging us to be His hands and feet until the day that he welcomes us home. In reality, we are all homeless until we leave this world.

Balloons

Life is filled with various types of moments, isn't it? We face pivotal moments when our lives are drastically changed forever, and we face moments that pass without a second thought into history. We face moments of joy, hope, regret, shock, peace, fear, etc. But sometimes we face moments that just make us stop and think. These are simple, uneventful moments that derail the progress of a typical day, cause us to hit the pause button, stop whatever it is we are doing, and just kind of zone out. Nothing major. Just a subtle blip on the screen of life. Well, I had one of those moments today. And I was blowing up balloons.

Midway through my day, I found myself sitting in a hot closet of my church where we store a helium tank. I was blowing up balloons for our Wednesday night kids bible club. No big deal, right? Just blowing up balloons. Red. Blue. Pink. Yellow. Green. I blew them up, tied the ends into a knot and tied a colorful ribbon to the end. I planned on blowing up about 20 balloons, but around number 18, it hit me. I've just spent 30 minutes of my day making balloons. From the time it took me to gather my supplies, walk over to the storage room and make 18 balloons, 30 minuets have vanished. And they were spent making balloons! What could that possibly have to do with God, ministry or anything else for that matter. Balloons!

My mind began to wander. I began to feel that sinking feeling, and I'll admit, I started to get a little depressed. Is this what I expected I would be doing as I worked my way through seminary? Is this what I thought being called into ministry would entail? Is this activity that has taken so much of my time, helping to build God's Kingdom? Did I make too many red ones?

OK, is this all about balloons? No. Is this about effect time management? Maybe a little. I did just buy a nice new day planner. With a calculator! But I think this moment of pause in my day was for a reason bigger than helium and ribbon. I think this was a subtle way of God communicating a much deeper issue. This was just the bump in the road that snapped me out of highway hypnosis.

Scripture is full of verses on serving God. Paul says in his letter to the Colossian Church, "Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not for men...It is the Lord Christ you are serving." What Paul is saying here is that it's not so much the action, but the motives behind the action. Are we serving God with the very essence of our souls, or are we just going through the motions. It's not about blowing up balloons. It's not about teaching a Sunday School class, preaching a sermon, cleaning toilets or writing blogs. It's about our hearts and who we are serving. Our service to God should not primarily come through and abundance of energy, time or strength, but from the overwhelming conviction that we are serving the God of creation! Sometimes, we are just blowing up balloons, and that's OK! Maybe it's in these simple moments that He teaches more about serving with Him, rather than just doing stuff for Him.

The Answer, My friend, is Blowin' in the Wind.....or after?

I live on the west side of Galveston Bay. Over the last couple of weeks, I haven't been able to write anything because of the lack of power in this area. When the lights finally came on, I was faced with the inevitable question, "Do I need to write a blog about Hurricane Ike?" My answer? I guess I don't have any choice. But what to write? How does this storm, that effected my area so drastically, fit into the realm of theology? How does not having power for a week inspire me to write something worthy of adding to my blog? What kind of deep philosophical perspective can I put on the natural phenomenon of hurricanes and how they tie into life, faith and spirituality? Well, I'm still thinking.

But, as with all storms, the wind stopped. The waters receded. And the power remained off. So as I sat in the calm quiet of darkness, the one thing that became very clear to me is this: God is very powerful. Too simplistic? Maybe. Too obvious? Maybe not. You see, I think that in our high-tech and complex world, we sometimes forget this very simple fact. God is very powerful. And as I pondered over this, I thought of the story of Jesus calming the storm in Matthew 8. Most of us have read, or heard, this story many times, and our first inclination is to interpret this passage as a comforting illustration that Christ "calms" the "storms" of life. But is this really what God is trying to say to us? Don't get me wrong, Jesus does calm the storms of our lives and this is a perfectly good passage of scripture to use in getting this point across. But is this what Matthew was really intending as he wrote these words? I don't think so.

Look at it from this perspective. What is the disciple's first reaction to Jesus calming the storm? They were amazed and asked, "What kind of man is this, that even the wind and the sea obey Him?" Think about it. They didn't cheer in excitement that the storm had stopped. They didn't release a concerted sigh of relief, realizing that their lives were sparred. They didn't fall to the floor of the boat, praising God that they would live another day. They were no longer focused on themselves and the storm. They were focused on Christ.

You see, the disciples attention turned from the power of the storm to the power of this man that just told the wind and waves to shut up! Their attention was diverted and that is what I think God is trying to get across to us in this story. Sure, God calms the storms of our lives, but more importantly, He is more powerful than the storms we face. He is above and beyond any storm we find ourselves in; figurative or literal. As Jesus spent more time with these twelve men, He revealed more about who He was. As He chopped away at their preconceptions, he opened their eyes to reality in it's fullest. God is very powerful. Sometimes it takes a storm for us to realize this. And sometimes it takes the calm.

Getting to Know You

A few weeks ago, like many people in the Houston area, I heard about a tragic bus crash that killed at least 15 people around Sherman Texas. A group of 55 Vietnamese Christians were on their way to a Catholic religious festival in Missouri when the bus blew a tire that sent it smashing into a guard rail and flipping it onto it's side. It was 12:45 a.m. and people were just dozing off to sleep. I began to think about this. I imagined a carefree atmosphere as these folks were on their way to a much anticipated time of worship. I imagined many of them asleep. Many of them talking quietly, maybe discussing faith. I'm sure that many of them had been waiting for this trip with great anticipation. I imagined that many could not sleep as they meditated on their adventure.

Then I imagined many of them awakened to the sound of the tire blowing out, the sound of twisting steel and the crash of the bus on the side of the road. I imagined the terror that these people must have felt. I imagined the fear that suddenly rushed through their bodies as the adrenaline suddenly surged. I imagined the screams. The cries for help. The helpless feelings as they felt themselves becoming airborne throughout the bus. The dark wave that came upon the survivors as they realized that many of their friends had died.

A week after the accident, I discovered that one of the people on board the bus was my tailor of some 10 years. Unfortunately, she was one of the people who lost their lives. As I read the local newspaper article, I was somewhat shocked. I just saw this woman a few weeks ago. I can see her face very clearly. I know who this person is. How am I supposed to react to this? I found myself wondering and asking myself something very strange. Should I be crying? I know that sounds odd, but I found myself in the middle of the road and wondering if my acquaintance with this woman warranted my tears. And I asked myself why? I've know this person for over 10 years, and I'm asking myself why a tear is not welling up in my eyes? Come on!

But then it hit me. I knew this person, but I didn't really know her. Yes, I knew her name and she knew mine. We recognized each other and probably would if we ran into each other in a restaurant or at the mall. We knew of each other, but did not know each other. Don't get me wrong. I was, and still am very saddened by this woman's death. As I dropped off a card for her husband at the alteration shop, I felt a coldness from not seeing her behind the counter. The shop felt empty, like part of it was missing. But to be honest, I moved on with my day. I went about life without much of a hitch. My question is this; "Should this have affected me more? Had I taken only a few minutes on any given day and talked with her, really talked with her, would I have found a tear in my eye? Would I have wept. Is that all that separated me from knowing her? Just one more conversation.

I don't know. I don't know if a few more words would have made any difference. The point is that there were over 10 years of opportunities to build more of a relationship and they were never taken. There were over 10 years to really know this woman, and they were wasted. It makes me think about the people we run into during the course of our days. We pass them at the store. We wave. We might say "Hi", and then ask ourselves, "What was her name? Don't I know that guy?"

John 11:23 records the shortest verse in the New Testament: "Jesus wept". As Jesus realized that His friend Lazarus has died, he is overwhelmed with grief and weeps. Someone that He knew had died. We know nothing of the relationship between Jesus and Lazarus. All we know is that Jesus wept. Maybe Jesus and Lazarus had spent many hours together talking. Perhaps they walked along the banks of the Jordan or the Seas of Galilee, Lazarus intently listening as Jesus went on about the kingdom of Heaven. Maybe they just sat together, shared a meal and joked about the Pharisees. Whatever it was, they knew each other and the loss of his friend brought Jesus to that point where the lip quivers, the throat tightens, the eyes well up and we can control it no longer. Jesus knew this man, and now he was gone. Jesus, the man, had a very close friend that died and He felt the loss deeply. He shed tears, as He would later shed blood. He was a man. He felt. He grieved. Lazarus had really died. Jesus really hurt. Jesus really wept. Jesus and Lazarus really knew each other.