Ash Wednesday Reflections

Today is Ash Wednesday and the beginning of Lent. Growing up Roman Catholic, Ash Wednesday was always a big day for those observing the liturgical Church calendar. Somewhat of the Christian's "Day of Atonement", Ash Wednesday is the first day of the 46 day Lenten season, which ends on Holy Saturday, April 19, the day before Easter Sunday. Lent is a time of spiritual reflection based on the forty days of temptation that Jesus faced in the wilderness. (Matthew 4:1-11) Lent is a time of deep reflective prayer, fasting, sacrifice, spiritual self-examination and repentance, in anticipation of the day Christ sacrificed Himself in atonement for the sins of all mankind. Specifically, Ash Wednesday is a day to be reminded of our human mortality; the ashes being a sign of mourning over of the fragility of live and the sin that has birthed that condition. It calls us to repentance and begins a long 40 day journey of coming to terms with sin and committing ourselves to face it, wrestle with it and deal with it throughout the remained of the year.   

Growing up, I always perceived Ash Wednesday as the magical day when all "good " Christians somehow purged themselves of the debauchery and hedonism that has crept into their lives over the last year; especially after Mardi Gras. Mostly, I remember classes being cut short so that all good Catholic school students could attend Ash Wednesday Mass, and the subsequent embarrassment of walking around all day with "dirt" on my forehead. "Hey, church boy! You've got dirt on your head!" When I got home from school, my mom was always quick to remind me not to wash the ashes off until bedtime, but was more lenient once I started to develop acne. Those oily ashes can wreak havoc on a teenage forehead. I have always found it perplexing that some pastors have the skill of creating a perfect cross, while others only seem to manage an unidentifiable smudge.   

But as I look back on my spiritual journey, Ash Wednesday was merely a strict religious observance and nothing more. I had no idea why I was called to observe the day, and had no clue what the ashes were supposed to symbolize in terms of my faith. I was a faithful Catholic and believed in Christ, but in terms of dedication, giving up meat on Friday was about as far as I would go. Have you noticed all the fast food restaurants pushing fish on their menus lately? I wonder what McDonald's will do to rival the culinary delight of their "Fish McBites" from last year?    

So this year I'm wondering to myself if Lent is suppose to mean more than just giving up something? Is it more than marathon prayer meetings, fasting, reading scripture and other "religious" activities? Is there more to Ash Wednesday? Is there more to observing Lent? I think there is, but I think that most of us don't want to think about it, because Lent has to do with a really nasty word. OK, now I'm going whisper it so that no one else hears. Ready? "Sin". Gasp! There, I said it! I know. I know. No one likes to talk about it, right? But we're all screwed up anyway, so let's just throw it out there and get it out in the open.

When you get right down to it, Lent is about sin. It's about looking back and reflecting over the last year and coming face to face with all the crap that has infected our lives. It's about taking stock of our walk with Christ, and meditating on the areas that we have fallen short. And as we enter these 40 days together, it's a time to prepare ourselves for Easter. A time of the year that we stop and remember that our Christian faith revolves around the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ, and nothing more.

Lent is not about looking more "holy" because you have ashes on your forehead. It's not about fasting so that all your friends can see how dedicated you are. It's not about piously praying several times a day so that those you work with can witness your awesome dedication to God. And I've got news for you; it's not about sacrifice. God doesn't want out lame sacrifices anyway.

When we think of Lent, we automatically think of giving up something, right? We give up sweets, coffee, smoking, technology, drinking, sex (no way!), anger, meat, cussing, etc...etc...etc. And although sacrifice is a vital aspect of the Lent experience, I think it has become a distraction from what what we are really called to as followers of Christ. We live in a culture, and are even part of a Church, that finds it politically incorrect to talk about sin. We don't like to confess sin to one another, because that makes us "bad" Christians. We don't like to hold someone accountable for sin, because that would be judgmental. And let's face it, in the post-modern church of today, sin is offensive. It's become intolerant to even mention sin for fear that others might think we're religious zealots.

Now, I am in no way advocating that we pursue campaigns of judging one another, and I'm not suggesting forms of self-righteousness. I'm not even asking us to feel bad about our faults and failures. We carry enough guilt during the rest of the year. Like I said, we're all screwed up to some extent, and those of you that know me know that I'm up there with the worst of them. I guess what I'm getting at is that maybe it's time to observe Lent for what it is: a time of repentance. Repentance is a good thing when you think about it. It's not about some angry person on the street corner screaming, "REPENT!"  It's not about doom and gloom, fire and brimstone and God's wrath on pathetic worthless sinners like you and me. Repentance, when you get right down to it, is about loving one another. When we call each other to turn from our sins and turn back to God, we are essentially communicating to them that we care about them. It's about saying to those we love, "Repent! Please! Because I love you and see what a freaking mess your life is! And my life is a mess too!  Help me! I'll help you! We're in this together!"

So, as we begin Lent on this Ash Wednesday, let's commit to the discipline of repenting. It really is an ancient discipline, when you get right down to it. Repent! And do me a favor. Challenge me to repent as well, especially when I fall short. Because I will fall short again and again. I promise. Because I'm a mess.

"Right" and "Left" are Just Directions

Just in case you haven't noticed, we are right in the middle of an election year. If you haven't been inundated by political views and election rhetoric, you either live in seclusion, or you may just not care. I must admit, I find myself falling into the second category as of late. Now before you accuse me of being un-American, please don't get me wrong.  It's not that I don't realize the importance of our political system. I believe that the US has the best system of electing government leaders in the world, and for the most part, it works:  For the most part.  However, It seems that I am becoming just a tad more disenchanted, and growing more apathetic as we hurtle toward November. And with the addition of the gay vs. straight issue, chicken vs. Oreos, or any other debate-fueled flavors of the month, I'm getting a little angry as well.  Not angry because of disagreement, but more angry at the divisions that inevitable evolve.  Divisions in our culture and divisions within the Church.
  

So as I sipped on my third cup of coffee this morning, I asked myself: "Why?" Why is this Presidential campaign beginning to raise more division and frustration than excitement?  It's funny, almost comical, but when you look at our current political situation from God's point of view, it doesn't seem quite as important as we make it out to be.  I often imagine God looking down upon His creation, shaking His head and thinking to Himself with a sigh, "Really?"  And regardless of political affiliations, wherever you decide to enjoy your fast food or find romance and intimacy, within the Kingdom of God there is essentially no "right" or "left".  No "We're right!" or "You're wrong"  No gay or straight.  No douche bags or hate mongers.  No homophobes and no Fundies.  To be honest, I'm sick of the whole "us" and "them" debate, and I'm beginning to see that most of us are proceeding in the "wrong" direction anyway.   Back and forth we go on a swing of insanity, desperately striving to "win" at whatever the cost.  But do we really ever win?

Despite our arrogance, scripture tells us that we tend to screw things up even when we know what's good for us.    In Proverbs 14:12, it tells us "There is a way that seems right to a man, but in the end it leads to death." Just when we think we have it ALL figured out, BAM! We fall on our proverbial asses.  Sure, God picks us up, dusts us off and gives us chance after chance after chance.  Oh, sure.  We promise to do better.  Remember the members of Congress gathering on the steps of the US Capital singing God Bless American in unity?  They claimed that we were united and there existed no Republicans and no Democrats: only Americans.  How quickly we forget, right?


Well, I'm afraid that we are finding ourselves in the midst of more disunity than ever before; within our culture and the Body of Christ as well.  In fact, many older friends of mine have claimed that such disunity has not existed in their lifetimes; not even in the late 60s.  As humans, we find it difficult to find consistency, don't we?  We swing from one extreme to the other, finding it almost impossible to locate middle ground.  We don't like the hiking trails in the park as much as we do the swings. We seem to find the straight and narrow path that God has specifically designed for man to follow, but our selfishness gets in the way and we drift off in our own directions.  We run to the swings and lull ourselves into a pattern of back and forth mentality that numbs us from the true unity that Christ calls us to.  We react rather than interact.

When I think about it, I'm not really conservative and I'm not really liberal.  I hate labels.  I try not to classify myself as either, just because a particular leader, teacher or pastor tells me which way I should lean. And I surely don't think God leans one way or the other. I don't think that God considers Himself to be "American" and I don't think God endorses a particular presidential candidate. I don't think God is a member of any particular church and I don't think any one pastor or teacher is His favorite. God is neither "right" nor "left". He is.

God tells Israel through the prophet Isaiah, "Whether you turn to the right or the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, "This is the way; walk in it." Pretty simple. Pretty straight forward. So at least for today, I'm going to walk His path for a while and just be. I'm not going left and and not going right.  I'll choose to jump off the swing, take a deep breath and walk down His path for a while.  And if I decide to go back and sit in the swing, I'm just going rest on it.  Feel the wind against my face and listen to His creation around me; creation that exists in complete unity around us.  And I just might enjoy a Chick fil A sandwich and an Oreo for desert.  Sounds pretty good when you think about it.  

Lenten Reflections - Being Good Enough

Isaiah 6:1-8

"I saw the Lord seated on a throne, high and exalted, and the train of his robe filled the temple. Above him were seraphs, each with six wings: with two wings they covered their faces, with two they covered their feet, and with two they were flying. And they were calling to one another:

'Holy, holy, holy is the LORD Almighty; the whole earth is full of his glory.' At the sound of their voices the doorposts and thresholds shook and the temple was filled with smoke. 'Woe to me!' I cried. 'I am ruined! For I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips, and my eyes have seen the King, the LORD Almighty.'

Then one of the seraphs flew to me with a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with tongs from the altar. With it he touched my mouth and said, 'See, this has touched your lips; your guilt is taken away and your sin atoned for.'

Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, 'Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?' And I said, 'Here am I. Send me!'"

I found myself reading through this passage of Isaiah this morning as part of my devotions for Lent. My first thought was that God was speaking directly to Isaiah when He said, “Whom shall I send? And who will go for us?” But I realized that Isaiah only overheard God while He was calling out to these bizarre flying creatures that surrounded him. What's a "seraph" anyway?  It was Isaiah that took the initiative to answer God’s call. Isaiah wasn’t forced into serving God. No one twisted his arm or made him feel guilty. He only heard the call of God, realized that the stakes were high and answered. No questions asked, just “Send me!”

How often do we find ourselves thinking that we are just not good enough to serve God? How often do we think that others are more qualified? How often have we thought that our past failures or screw-ups keep us from being used by God?  We can see from scripture that Isaiah wasn’t good enough. He wasn’t necessarily ready. There may have been others more qualified. But God revealed to Isaiah that the only requirement for serving Him was something we often forget: being available.

God needs people who will readily answer the call simply because it is Him who asks. And He doesn’t need us to pass a test first and He doesn’t want us to dwell on our past failures. He wants imperfect people that will humbly receive His forgiveness, and impulsively and radically answer, “Send me!” God isn’t looking for ability, as much as He is looking for availability. As we celebrate Lent, let us meditate on what it means to be available, and answer when He calls, regardless of the cost.

9/11 Reflections - The Kingdom of America or the Kingdom of God?

Yesterday seemed to have a "feel" to it. Every year, on this solemn anniversary, it's as if a cloud descends upon my world, and the events seem to be happening in real time. Similar to Christmas Eve, the day seems to be magically alive, but not with expectation and joy, but with heavy meditation and sadness. The anniversary of 9/11 has always been a very reflective day for me. I always find time to meditate, pray, and talk with others about what we've learned from such a culture-altering event. I remember that Tuesday morning as if it happened yesterday. I remember exactly what I was doing, as I sat at my desk. I remember how the sun looked as it crept through the trees outside my office and through the window. I remember thinking that it looked and felt like Fall, although it was still very hot and humid in typical South Texas style. I remember receiving the first email about the first plane that hit the World Trade Center, and not paying much attention. And I remember the feeling of darkness I felt as I began to realize what was happening when the second plane hit. 

I also have memories that leave me feeling a little empty, saddened and a little angry. Looking back, I remember the "pep rally" atmosphere that seemed to develop almost overnight, including in the Church. Churches of all denominations began pumping their fist, chanting, "USA! USA!, wearing red, white and blue and covering the cross with the flag. When I heard the news of the first attacks on Afghanistan, I spoke to a pastor friend of mine to discuss what was going on. His reaction, "Light 'em up, baby! Light 'em up!" My heart sank, I sheepishly said, "Yeah! Right!", and quickly made an excuse to leave. But I'll admit, part of me was sharing his emotions at that time.

"Light 'em up, baby!" Think about that for a second. Like most people at that time, my friend was excited that America was retaliating. It's somewhat natural to take joy in the vindication of the evil that had been inflicted on so many innocent people. But what he was not considering was that at that very second, people were dying. His first reaction to the bombing of human beings, and what would become the beginning of a long period of war and death, was excitement. Yes, at that time, many of these people were our enemy, but whether we want to admit it or not, innocent children were dying, women were screaming and holding their babies, and men who had nothing to do with their country's politics, were doing their best to protect their families. That's the reality of war. That's the reality of a fallen world.  The same fallen world that saw the death of thousands of innocent Americans.  

Now, don't get me wrong. The events on 9/11 were tragic, and unfortunately, America had to react in some form of retaliation. I'm not advocating pacifism. I feel the same pain and sadness as any American at the loss we suffered.  What I am questioning is our "reaction"; reactions to war as Americans, specifically those of us that call ourselves followers of Christ. The Church. The Body of Christ. Should we react to war as if it is a football game? Should we cheer on the sidelines, hoping that our opponents get their skulls crushed as we rush down the field of enemy territory to victory? Or should our reaction be more solemn? Should we pump our fists in the air, chanting, "USA! USA!", or should our fists be folded in prayer, asking God to protect the innocent and allow peace to return to His kingdom quickly? Should we be so quick to wave the flag before we lift up the cross? Should our reaction be hatred for our enemies, or a nation, or should we consider the words of Jesus Himself who said, "But I tell you: love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you," (Matthew 5:44)  Those are radical words.  Difficult words.  Ridiculous words.  But that's what Jesus' Kingdom is all about.  Foolishness. 

You see, for Christians of this nation, America is not our kingdom. America did not invent Christianity and Jesus was not from the Heartland. War should not be a sporting event and we should not be so quick to pray for our team to win. Instead, should we not pray for an end to war? Should we not pray for not only the safety and protection of our country, but also the safety and protection of the world? Because whether we want to admit it or not, the entire earth belongs to the Kingdom of God. Americans, Iraqis, and Afghans are all human beings that God created. He wants ALL to be saved, not only Americans. (See 1 Timothy 2:3-7) And guess what? Even terrorists are in need of redemption.


After things settled down on 9/11, I left work and made my way to a prayer meeting at a friends house. I stopped in HEB to grab a drink and an energy bar for lunch. As I walked out, an old woman was walking toward me, weeping hysterically. She could have been my grandmother and I felt tears in my own eyes forming. As I got closer to her, she grabbed my arm and through her sobs, she began to say, "Did you see what they're doing in New York?! Did you see what their doing to us!?" I was in tears at this point and I just nodded my head. Then she said something that sums up my feelings this morning. "Just pray. OK? Please, son. Just pray."

Pray. Just pray.  This is the first year that i can honestly say that I forgive those that attacked our nation.  I can honestly say that I love them; not because of what they've done or haven't done, but because of who they were.  I love them because I see hopeless lives that came to a tragic end leaves behind a legacy of evil.  I'm saddened because I have a glimpse from God's eyes and see people that He wanted to follow Him, but drifted about as far as a human can from the true God.  

Pray for Bethany House

I'm going to ask you to join me on a journey. I can't tell much about it, because I don't know much about it myself. I don't know exactly where this journey is going to take us and I have no clue how long it will take us. Success? Failure? I have no idea. Will we get lost? Probably. Will we get tired? Definitely. Will we get discouraged, frustrated, scared or angry? Yes, yes, yes and yes. Will you think to yourself that my request is a little ridiculous? Probably. The final destination of our journey is a place that doesn't exist yet. Right now, our journey's end is a small vision in the recesses of my mind, but it's beautiful. And it's a place that we will all gather together one day and rejoice. We will all come together in this destination and praise the God of this universe, because He finally got us to where He sent us. So, do I have your curiosity piqued yet?

Right now, the vehicle that we are going to use for our journey is simple: prayer. An that's all this journey is at this point: a prayer. This is not a goal, a plan or even a idea yet. This is a prayer, and that's it. So I guess in many ways, I am only asking you to walk with me. You don't have to buy a plane ticket, pay for gas or even get your biked tuned up. Just put on your shoes and walk with me for a while, until God reveals what comes next. A walk. That sounds good, doesn't it?

Our walk together begins with a vision that God put on my heart this weekend. I just got back from a three day personal retreat, and the place that I visited is a convent in Houston that offers a non-denominational retreat house for groups or individuals. It has become a sanctuary for me and a beautiful refuge from the everyday stresses of life. It's a place that I find rest. It's a place that allows me to slow down. I slow down mentally. I slow down physically. I slow down spiritually and listen to God, rather than dictate wish lists to Him. When I walk into this place, I feel like a child curling up in his fathers arms, as the weight of my burdens lightens. It's simple. It's monastic. It's always there waiting for me.

Have you ever wished you had a place like that to go to? When you feel like running away? When you feel hurt and alone? A place where someone will be waiting, with a hot cup of coffee? A place with a bed, so you can rest and a meal waiting for you when you wake up? A place to share creative expression in music, art and faith? It's simple, but it's always there. Someone is always there waiting to open the door, no matter how late it is. It's a refuge. A sanctuary. What if that place existed right in your community? What if it existed?

So this is where we begin our journey. I'm just going to ask you to join me in prayer. Remember, that's all it is at this point; a prayer. So often, I think we limit our prayers to things that can only be accomplished within the natural realm. We pray to a supernatural God, and yet we rarely expect His answers to resemble His character. What if we prayed for God to give us this place at the end of our journey? What if we called it "Bethany House"?

Bethany was a small town located on the eastern slope of the Mount of Olives. It was about 2 miles Southeast of Jerusalem, and the home of Mary, Martha and Lazurus. If you were traveling to Jerusalem and found yourself stopping in Bethany, you wouldn't be able to see the city yet because Bethany was nestled at the bottom of the mountain. This gave the town a feeling of quietness, peace and seclusion. Jesus often found refuge in Bethany to stay with His closest friends as He ministered in Jerusalem during the final days before His death and resurrection. Some of the most significant, spiritual and passionate events of His ministry culmination took place in Bethany. It has also been thought of as a center for caring of the sick, the destitute and weary pilgrims of Jerusalem.

So, as God began to paint this picture in my mind, the images of Bethany came to mind: Bethany House. I'm not sure where Bethany house is, what street it's on, how to find it or what kind of condition it will be in when we get there. For that matter, I'm not sure of what condition we will be in when we get there. But I know this; there will be light on in the window and a pot of coffee brewing in the kitchen and a bed waiting for us to rest our weary heads on.

Will you join me in praying for Bethany House, whatever and wherever it is? Will you join me in this passion that God has put on my heart? I know it sounds impossible, but nothing is impossible for God, is it? It says in Daniel 4:35 that "All the peoples of the earth are regarded as nothing. He does as he pleases with the powers of heaven and the peoples of the earth. No one can hold back his hand or say to him: 'What have you done?'" He can do what he wants and I believe that He wants this! !I can see it! I can feel it! It's out there somewhere, and we'll find it together.

Mark 11:24 - "Therefore I tell you, whatever you ask for in prayer, believe that you have received it, and it will be yours."

1 John 5:14-15 - "And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us. And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of him."

Mike

Those of you that know me, know that I can be a rather melancholy person.  Because of that, I've always been somewhat obsessed with death.  It's always caused an inner conflict within me and I'll admit, some fear as well.  I've read verses like 1 Corinthians 15:54-58 and meditate on the words "O DEATH, WHERE IS YOUR VICTORY? O DEATH, WHERE IS YOUR STING?” and thought to myself, "Really?"  I don't know about you, but I've felt the full sting of death many times.  There is an uncertainty with death, and  regardless of the depth of my faith, there are times when I think and wonder at the mystery of my existence.  If you say that you are 100% sure of what will happen to you when you die, you're lying, or you have some spiritual insight that I've not yet grasped.  Because regardless of how strong our faith in God might be, there will always be a hint of doubt.  That's part of what faith is about.    

My friend Mike died just over 13 years ago.  I'm not sure why I'm thinking about him today.  Maybe it's because my mind is wandering from excessive writer's block.  Maybe it's because Summer is coming to an end, kids are going back to school and change is in the air.  Maybe it's just because I'm feeling a bit nostalgic and yes, melancholy this afternoon.  Or maybe it's because I just read a blog posted by a friend of mine about loosing one of his best friends this week and the grief he is now experiencing.  Nah, that can't be it.

Mike died on the Monday after Labor Day in 1997.  He came to my house on Sunday for lunch, bringing with him his beautiful little daughter, Jordan who was only 1 year old at the time; the same age as my oldest son, Ian.  We cooked hot dogs for lunch, drank a few beers, ate Popsicles and filled up a little baby pool for the kids, and our feet.  It was a good day.

Mike was having a rough time with life, as well as his marriage, so we talked a lot.  He shared a lot of his struggles with me.  I listened.  It felt good to listen.  It felt good to talk.  When he left that afternoon, I walked with him out to his car.  After getting Jordan situated in her car seat, he looked me right in the eyes and thanked me for inviting him over.  I could tell that it meant a lot to him.  You could see it in his eyes.  Just before he drove off he rolled the window down and said, "Hey, let's going fishing tomorrow since we have the day off."  I thought about it, hesitated a few seconds and then declined the invitation.  I would have loved to have gone fishing.  We were fishing a lot back then and I was always looking for an excuse to go.  But for some reason, I felt the need to spend more time at home and with my family.  I had no idea how much more was going on by turning down his offer.

The next day was Labor Day.  Mike went fishing anyway, with another friend named Tommy.  I didn't know Tommy very well, but we had all fished together a few times.  I felt a little jealous that I wasn't the one who went.  It should have be me with him.  That morning I felt a twinge of regret, thinking how nice it would have been to be in the water, hooking a few speckled trout.  But the day went on.  We sat around the house and did as little "labor" as we could.  We watched TV and played around on the computer.  All in all, it was a pretty boring day, but it was good to spend time with my wife and son.  It was good to rest.   

Just after we finished lunch, I was sitting at my desk on the computer when the phone rang.  It was Mike's wife, Kim.  She said my name, paused and her voice began crackling.  I could hear her crying and my heart began to race, feeling that sinking feeling deep in my soul.  You know that feeling?  The feeling you get just before something bad happens?  That feeling that you are right on the border of a tragedy?  As soon as you step over the line of acknowledgement, everything in your immediate world is going to change, and you feel it.  You sense it.  Here we go.  Stepping over the line.  

My first thought was that Mike had left Kim.  Not too long before, Mike had run off to Florida to escape marriage problems and the stresses of life that were troubling him.  I imagined that he had again decided to temporarily escape, and Kim was naturally upset, and was calling in hoes that I would help her track him down.  That's what I was thinking.  I wish that had been the case.  Something so simple could have been solved.  Something so simple could have been worked through.  I would have been glad to have driven out to Florida to find him.  I would give anything to have the memory of finding him fishing or sitting in some beach bar drinking a beer.  I would have convinced him to come home.  He always listened to me.  We would laugh about it today.

That's not how things worked out.  After the phone fell to the ground, I remember hearing someone picking it back up.  I heard a voice that I didn't recognize.  "Jake, this is Kim's aunt.  Kim was calling you to tell you that Mike was killed this morning.  I'm so sorry."  I stepped over the line.  Everything changed.  My reality changed.  Everything looked different.  Everything sounded different.  It was as if I stepped into another dimension.  The sting of death.

"What?  What?  What?"  That's all I remember saying.  I looked around the room, back and forth in quick movements of panic.  She hung up the phone.  My wife Kelly was sitting on the bed across the room.  She knew that it was one of those phone calls.  It was one of those lines crossed in life that you can't cross back again.  She was crying.

Through tears she muttered, "What?  What happened, Jake?  Is it Mike?  Is he dead?"  I nodded my head and began weeping uncontrollably.  It was the kind of weeping that comes from deep inside your soul and you have no control over it.  My head fell into my hands and my shoulders began heaving up and down.  This was one of the rare times in my life that I've felt the full force of mourning.  I understand grief and the powerful clutch of it.  The cold embrace of death surrounded me and I felt empty.  I walked outside and on to my driveway, staring up at the sky.  What had just happened?  Why wasn't I there with him?  Why didn't I go?  Could I have saved him?  Would I have died as well?  Why, God?  Why?        

Mike was struck by lightning from a small isolated thunderstorm that popped up late that morning.  I remember seeing it pass just to the West of my house, thinking how strange it was. There was no chance of rain that day.  Mike had left Tommy and the boat at the shore, while he ran across the beach to get his truck.  Tommy didn't even know what had happened until the ambulance showed up.  He was killed instantly.  The thoughts ran though my head once again: It should have been me with him that morning.  Maybe I could have done something.  Maybe I could have stopped him.  Maybe my obsessive compulsive tendencies would have kicked in and I would have insisted on him waiting for the storm to pass.  Why wasn't I there?   

About a year before Mike's death, he became a follower of Christ.  Not many people know that.  I had been a Christian for a few years before him and he had always thought I had fallen off the deep end.  But we were close friends so he eventually began  to ask me questions about what I believed.  He didn't talk about his faith that much with others, but we had many conversations about spirituality and God.  One evening in particular, when Mike was having an especially rough time in his marriage, he called me.  "I don't get it!  I became a Christian just like you encouraged me to do, but my life still sucks!  Why?"

I didn't have an answer for him.  I agreed with him that life did suck from time to time.  I shared with him that I often felt the same way and even questioned my faith occasionally.  I also shared with him the good things God had done in my life.  Mostly I just listened.  I listened to the pain in his voice and tried to feel it with him.  I told him that I understood and he wasn't alone in his struggles.  I never judged him and I never questioned his faith.  I guess that I just tried to be who Christ would have been for him, if He was sitting with him that moment; the same Christ that sat with me when Mike died.  The same Christ that works through me when others grieve a loss and feel the sting of death.  And the same Christ that reminded me of Mike this afternoon, and reminded me that I'll see him again.  The sting of death is gone, life still sucks sometime and I still miss my friend.  See you soon, my friend. 

Construct

We are all born into a spiritual construct. My spiritual construct is different from your spiritual construct, and your spiritual construct is different from mine. A spiritual construct is basically the building blocks of spirituality that have been set in place since the day you were born. They consist of things you are aware of, and may consist of things that have been subliminal throughout most of your life. Your spiritual construct reveals your spiritual personality and determines how your spiritual life will flow.

I was born into the Roman Catholic faith, and although I now follow a Protestant theology, my spiritual life has been developed to a great extent by my Catholic upbringing. Spiritual elements like Christian icons, stained glass, candles, meditation and observing long periods of silence are a big part of how I delve into a deeper communion with God. Although Christ is the center of who I am, these are elements that are part of my spiritual construct.

For many years, I rejected anything that was in any way related to Catholicism. In my mind, I felt that anything connected to the rigid and religious structure of the liturgical church was only going to hinder my growth as a follower of Christ. I felt as if I had become "enlightened", whatever that means, and freed from the overly structured and methodical way of faith that I grew up with. But then I went to seminary, and came out feeling as if knew less that I did before, and I became "enlightened" to the fact that I was dead wrong!

What I began to realize is that Christianity is somewhat of a mosaic that makes up the Church as we see it today in 2010. Some of us grew up with the structure of the liturgy, and some of us grew up with the freedom of a congregational church setting. Some of us grew up with structure of conservative spiritual upbringing, while others grew up with the idealism of a more liberal faith. Either way, our spiritual construct was set by those early stages of faith. Right or wrong, good or bad, our spirituality has been developed by where we've been, and that's not a bad thing.

What I have learned through my journey of faith, is that each of us need to embrace our spiritual construct. The mold that has been cast is not necessarily one that needs to be broken and reconstructed. The early path we took in our spiritual development, does not mean we're going in the wrong direction. Construction does not always mean demolition. And If we're honest with ourselves, we can look back over our spiritual lives and see that the building blocks that have been set are elements that have brought us to the faith we have today.

In 2 Timothy 1:5, Paul alludes to Timothy's Spiritual Construct. "I have been reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also. For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God," We have no idea of the details of Timothy's upbringing in the faith. We know nothing of the traditions or spiritual disciplines practiced in his household. But we do know that his Mother and grandmother were Jewish and his Father was Greek. He grew up in Lystra, which was located in modern day Turkey, and heavily steeped in Greek culture. Both of these backgrounds would have been part of his accepting the truths of Jesus Christ when the Apostle Paul first began spreading the gospel in that area. In fact, it's very significant that Paul found it important enough to mention that both Timothy's Mother and Grandmother had an influence in Timothy's strong faith. Both being Jewish, the faith of Israel would would have been a filter that he used in accepting the Christian faith.

Like Timothy, you might have parents or grandparents that influenced the development of your spiritual construct. You may have other family members or friends that have affected your growth, or there might be life events that have added building blocks to your faith. Still there may be some of you that see nothing in your life journey that has had any influence in where you are spiritually. But I encourage you to spend some time meditating on what your spiritual construct might look like. See if you can determine what factors have influenced it. Once you have, embrace those spiritual aspects. Ask God how you can utilize them in your walk of faith this week. Seek how they might become regular practices to draw closer to God, and enjoy your place in the mosaic of Christianity.

What the Hell?

Hell is not a popular topic today, is it? I shudder at having to write about it because it's not very politically correct. But considering how many times Jesus talked about the reality of Hell, it’s probably something we should at least consider. There are at least 15 passages of scripture where Jesus mentions the concept of Hell, and all are instances that propose that Hell is the basically the antithesis of Heaven. The result of rejecting God and a place of final judgment and punishment. None of the illustrations make Hell sound like a good place to be. In fact, in many of Jesus’ Hell illustrations, He uses the term “Gehenna”, which was Jerusalem’s garbage dump, just south of the city. It was a place that was kept constantly burning in order to destroy the huge amounts of refuse accumulated every day. It was also full of animal carcasses and human remains from Pagan sacrifices, including children. Not a nice place, to say the least!

The most common objection I hear in response to Hell’s existence is, “Why would a loving God allow the reality of Hell? Why would He send any of His beloved creation to such a horrible place?” My thoughts have often drifted to ponder this question myself. And my conclusion and response has become very simplistic: He doesn’t. Now, before you accuse me of denying the existence of Hell, allow me to explain. I believe that Hell is a very real place. Just as real as Heaven and the world around us, Hell is a reality that unfortunately is the final destination for some people that walk this earth. But my point is this: I don’t believe that God “sends” anyone to Hell. Those that end up facing eternity in Hell, end up there by their own choice. So, am I saying that people actually “decide” to hang out in Hell forever, without any chance of parole? Well, maybe not intentionally, but yes, that’s exactly what I’m saying. Why? Because God is a “just” God.

So, what does God’s justice really mean? Well, basically, God is fair. Those that choose to believe in Him and do their best to follow His guidelines of life, get to spend eternity with Him, and those that reject Him for a lifetime, get more of the same in a place completely absent of Him. Now, I know what you’re thinking at this point. Sounds pretty narrow minded and judgmental, right? Well, I’m not God and thankfully, I’m not the judge. But if we are going to attribute perfect love and acceptance to the God of the universe, then we probably have to attribute the fact that He is completely “just” as well. If not, He would be a flaky deity and no different than many of the inconsistent Christians that claim to be His followers. I would be more apt to give Him more credit than that, wouldn’t you? Especially if it was compared to me and my spiritual walk.

But, here’s the point. I don’t believe for one second that God “sends” anyone to Hell. Obviously, people end up there, but I don’t think God waves a wand of judgment and, “poof”, you’re in Hell! “Mwahhahaha! Suck on that, you worthless sinner! Sorry! Too late! Can’t hang in Heaven! Even if ya beg!”

To sum it up; yes. I do believe in the existence of Hell. But I do not, for one second, believe that God is in the habit of aggressively looking for people to send to Hell. He’s not actively looking for loopholes so He can put another name in His “Sent to Hell” log. Instead, I believe that we serve a living and loving God, that is constantly looking for any reason possible to bring people into the eternal reality of Heaven. And this same God weeps when anyone faces the reality of Hell, because we were not created for Hell in the first place.

I believe that God is banging on the door of each and every heart, screaming to the recesses of our souls of His reality and that eternity with Him is more real that the temporary world around us. “This is your home! This is what you were created for! This is the way! Walk in it!”

Gehenna references: Matt.5:22, Matt.5:29, Matt.5:30, Matt.10:28, Matt.18:9, Matt.23:15, Matt.23:33, Matt. 9:43, Mark 9:45, Mark 9:47, Luke 12:5, James 3:6.

What is Theology?

What is it that you think of when you hear the word theology? Wikipedia says that Theology "is the study of a god or, more generally, the study of religious faith, practice, and experience, or of spirituality". St. Augustine said that theology was the "reasoning or discussion concerning the Deity." And Webster defines the word as "the study of religious faith, practice, and experience; especially : the study of God and of God's relation to the world, or "a theological theory or system".

The origins of the word theology, take us back to the Greek word, theologia (θεολογία), which is derived from the roots, theos, meaning god and logos, meaning word,discourse or reasoning.

Nineteenth Century clergyman, Henry Ward Beecher, said that "Theology is a science of mind applied to God and is but our ideas of truth classified and arranged. And modern scientist and atheist, Richard Dawkins, said “What has 'theology' ever said that is of the smallest use to anybody? When has 'theology' ever said anything that is demonstrably true and is not obvious? What makes you think that 'theology' is a subject at all?”

But what is theology to you? How does it affect you in a personal way? Does it bring back uncomfortable memories of a class you had to take in high school? Does it remind you of an elite group of philosophers in the upper echelons of academia? Stacks of books? Scrolls? An old bearded man diligently writing by candlelight?

How do you think theology fits in with today's world? What relevance does theology have with our culture? And Once we have a grasp of what theology really is, how do we apply it in everyday life? How does it affect our faith and spiritual life?

What is theology? Let me know your thoughts.

The Perfect Failure

We're very sensitive to failure, aren't we? We live in a culture that bases a person's worth on the amount of success they obtain in life. Overall, failure is considered negative, and success is thought to be the only acceptable option. But who decides what is failure and what is success? I wonder if what we sometime consider failure is not such bad thing after all. I wonder if it's possible to view failure as somewhat of a teacher. A motivator. I wonder that if we learn not to fear failure, might we learn much more as we travel the roads of life, and grow more in our spirituality? As we celebrated Easter yesterday, I thought a lot about failure and how it applies to my faith. Failure and faith. They don't seem to go together, do they? Well, let me explain.

This morning, I found myself pondering the same things that I seem to do each year. There is almost a “real time” reflection of the events that transpired over 2000 years ago for me. I sit here and imagine the thoughts that must have been going through the minds of Jesus' disciples just before He rose from the dead. The Messiah had finally come. The Roman yoke of oppression was just about to be cast off and Jesus was going to lead the way into battle! "Hosanna!", they cried on Palm Sunday! "Blessed is He who comes in the name of the Lord!" But then, in a short time of less than a week, things changed radically. Sitting there on Saturday night, cowering in fear, in their minds, it was over. Failure.

Jesus' disciples had been assuming that He was the great military and political Messiah that had been expected by the Jewish people. He had finally come and they had a front row seat! All the hopes and dreams of the Jewish people had finally come to fruition! And just when they thought Jesus was going to mount a stallion, pull out a holy sword and start slaying the Roman scumbags, things start to change. Jesus starts talking about death, betrayal and things that sounded like defeat. Things that sounded like failure. And in a few hours, Jesus was dead. "Uhhh, What just happened?"

Within the course of one evening, Jesus was arrested, brutally beaten and nailed to a cross. His lifeless and disfigured body was taken down form the cross and placed in a sealed tomb. From all practical perspectives, it was over. Life as they thought it was going to be, had now transpired into a future of fear and uncertainty. Can you imagine how they felt? Can you imagine the frustration and anger? The overwhelming anxiety?

“How did we misinterpret what Jesus had been telling us over the last three years?", they must have asked themselves. “Were we totally misled?” “Are we all fools?” “Was our mission with Jesus a complete failure?” "Are we next?" "Will the Roman soldiers soon be breaking down our doors?" "Dude! We're screwed! Game over, man!" The anxiety must have felt like the weight of the world! Fear. Rejection. Anger. Confusion. All of these emotions must have been running wild as they anticipated what would happen next. From the world's point of view, this must have appeared to have been the perfect failure.

There always seems to be two sides to every story. In this case, one side tells us that Jesus' ministry was in fact, a perfect failure. This side leaves Jesus in His tomb and leaves the disciples defeated, broken, dejected and afraid. The other side of the story is what Christians all over the world celebrated yesterday. Something that contradicts all reason. Something happened that had the power to take these eleven broken men that were hiding in fear, and used them to transform the world. He is risen! We serve a God that is alive and loved His creation so much that He was willing to die for them. That means you and that means me. And after all the egg hunts, candy and Easter services, the story still ends the same. He is still risen.

Release

This morning I imagine God looking down on me and the rest of humanity; in some places lives are out of control and in some, there is complete order. More often, lives are found somewhere in the middle. God observes. The owner of a large fish tank of sorts. Some fish swim in schools and yield to the environment around them, while others thrust back and forth hoping for escape. Chaos and peace in union with one another. And as I contemplate on God looking down on creation, I feel as if I get a very small glimpse of how He sees us.

I’m realizing that our relationship with God is much of the time in complete opposition to the culture around us. While we strive to gain just a hint of control in our lives, God subtly whispers for us release any semblance of control to Him. Maybe stability will only be found through instability. Maybe peace will only be found through chaos. Contentment will only be found through our souls being discontent. For only at that point do we realize our true dependence on God. A child can only throw so many temper tantrums before he releases all that pent up anger and frustration, and falls limp into his father’s arms and submits to what he knew was right in the first place. But with that release comes peace; a “peace that transcends all understanding.” (Philippians 4:7)

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart…” This is one of those verses that seems to tie everything together. It makes complete sense and yet for some reason, it comes so difficult to all of us. Whether from our parents or culture, we are taught from a very early age to trust in ourselves. To be in control of your own emotions is the ultimate goal because if it feels good, do it. Maybe the answer lies in sometimes doing what doesn’t “feel” right. Maybe it’s somewhere in between.

Do you remember the episode of Seinfeld, where frustrated with failure, George comes to the conclusion that the answer to his success might come from doing the complete “opposite” of what he had always done? As with most concepts in Seinfeld, it was ridiculous, pointless and revolved around “nothing”. But I found that there was actually a grain of truth in George’s thought process. As George threw caution to the wind, in a somewhat helpless attempt to find success, he finally became honest about who he was in many aspects.

I wonder if there might be a hint of theology in this as well. The gospel according to George? Do we throw caution to the wind and do everything opposite of what we have always done? Well, if you remember correctly, in subsequent episodes, George finds that failure still finds him, even in doing the opposite of what his instincts have led him to do. But maybe in some areas of life, our first instinct is not always the best choice to make. Maybe trusting our emotions and feelings is not always what guides us in the right direction.

Scripture tells us that there is a way that seems right to man, but God’s ways are not our ways and part of our understanding of God lies in the fact that we cannot always understand Him. Acknowledging that God is God, and we are not, gets us to a place where we have no other alternative but to submit to Him and the fact that He just might know what’s better for us than we do. After all, Scripture is filled with examples of people that futilely tried to do things they’re own way, only to hit proverbial the brink wall. Peace and success are realized in the lives of those who learned to be in full submission to His sovereignty and will. Those that finally decided that they might just be better off doing the “opposite” of what they have always done.

"Serenity" - Watercolor by Judi McWilliams - www.judimcwilliamsfineart.com

Avatar and Worship

Yesterday afternoon, my oldest son and I ventured out for some "guy time" and saw Avatar. If you haven't seen the movie yet, let me just say that if you saw the 1990 epic, Dances with Wolves, you already know the basic story line. In fact, one could easily say that it's just a futuristic rip-off in CGI form. Don't get me wrong, Avatar is an amazing and beautiful journey into pure fantasy and was worth the money. It's an escape, which is what most of us need these days. But is there much more to it?

Despite the usual political rhetoric regarding "evil" humans, and how we are too stupid and greedy to avoid destroying ourselves, and eventually other planets, the movie is very enjoyable. But I'll warn you... you may walk out of the movie carrying a burden of humanistic guilt the size of a Mountain Banshee! There's also the whole "Colonists suck, Indians rock" theme going! Avatar also smacks of universalist theology, pantheism and goddess worship, but what can you expect from Hollywood, and the man who arrogantly prides himself on miraculously discovering Jesus' tomb? The plot is very predictable and leaves you with the underlying theme that it is uncool to be Human.

Believe it or not, it is not my intention to slam Avatar. Like I said, I liked the movie and was very entertained, and I usually try and keep political agendas out of the picture. I'm not a film critic, but as with any movie I see, I always try and dissect the underlying theological significance and how it applies to today's culture. After watching Avatar, this wasn't difficult to do. One aspect resonated with me more clearly than any other movie in many years. It's subtle, but definitely there, and is also one of the main objections I had to the movie: the faith and worship of the alien civilization around which the movie revolves.

The Na'vi are a primitive race of aliens that inhabit the planet Pandora. As the movie progresses, you begin to see the lifeblood of this culture, which is its faith in their deity, Eywa. The center of worship is The Tree of Souls, which seems to be the point of spiritual contact with Eywa and the civilization's ancestors. The energy that emanates from this tree, and Eywa, is a living network that carries through all of nature, living creatures and the Na'vi themselves. It's the center of life on Pandora.

The point is, the Na'vi saw their deity and it's power as the center of their lives. Nothing existed independently from their god. To this culture, there was no distinction between faith and life. All aspects of life were united and flowing together, with their god at the center. It was a holistic picture of faith and one of the more beautiful images in Avatar. No, it was not Christian worship and I acknowledge that this movie paints a picture of a false god, and a fantasy god at that. But what I am focusing on, is the simple act of worship within this culture and what I think we can learn from it as believers in Christ.

As I've said before, we live in a very compartmentalized culture with very pluralistic belief systems. One compartment holds our faith. One compartment holds our family. One compartment holds our work, hobbies, friends, etc. Very rarely do we encourage, or even want the elements of our faith intertwining with other compartments of our life. But what would it look like if we did? What would it look like in our churches, if all elements of our lives revolved around our faith communities and the worship of Jesus Christ? What would it be like to see the power of the living God transcending every compartment, until we were left with a holistic picture of life, with God at the center? Everything moved within and intertwined until there was no distinction. No conflicts. No barriers. Just faith in a God that lives within us as Scripture says.

The ancient Hebrews knew this well, and it makes me wonder where we've lost hold of this essential key of worship. In Deuteronomy 6:4-9, God encourages His people in saying "Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates."

In John 15, Jesus reinforced this essential holistic relationship with God when He said, "I am the vine; you are the branches." Just before this in John 14, He says, "Believe me when I say that I am in the Father and the Father is in me;" Do you see this holistic picture that God has been painting since He first spoke to the people of Israel? God is the essence of all that has life. He lives in us and through us, and gives life to all that is around us. Why should we not then attribute all the aspects of our individual lives to God, and see that He is the object of our worship, not what He has created, but Him who is the creator? Worship as a lifestyle? Not just a Sunday morning ritual? Now that's an alien concept!

Nostalgia and Corner Stores

Did you know that “nostalgia” used to be considered a mental disorder? In my case, that would make sense, but lately memories of my youth have been creeping in and out of my mind. I’m not sure why, but I’ve been rather nostalgic over the last couple of weeks. And this has actually made me think a lot about my relationship with God, and how good He has been to me in the 40 years that I’ve been blessed to walk this earth. It’s almost as if God has been guiding me through a museum of elaborate paintings that are windows of the past. Each painting is like a snap shot of a significant period of life that was pivotal in the development of who I am today. Let me share one of these paintings with you.

When I was growing up, my grandparents lived down the road from a little corner store named O’Bannon’s. This was back in the mid to late 70’s, so some of that old fashioned Americana still penetrated into modern society, and this was one of those rare gems. These were the days when a pocket full of change would buy cavity-inducing treasure, and you would still have a little left over. I still can still feel it. I can still see it with vivid clarity. I can still smell it.

Each summer, my brother and I would always spend a week at my grandparent’s house, and walking to O’Bannon’s was the highlight of each day. Most mornings, we darted out of the kitchen that had one of those old wooden screen doors that creaked before it slammed shut, just like on the Walton’s. We ran past Paw Paw’s upholstery shop and across the drive way covered in rock and oyster shells. I could feel the embrace of the morning sun on my back and on my bare feet as the concrete warmed up a little. Down a cracked sidewalk we would run before dodging between a couple of houses and through a few backyards. Eventually we would come to the well worn path that led to the left and the back of O’Bannon’s. Through heavy trees and bushes the path would wind until it finally ended at the cracked black asphalt parking lot. The bright summer sun would greet us again as we skipped across the cracks and potholes and eventually to the cool covered sidewalk that ran along the front of the store. To the right was an old rail covered in cracked and peeling paint that divided the walk from the parking spots. To your left were the dirty glass windows of the store, revealing cloudy glances of the treasures that lay waiting inside.

As you opened the front door a bell would ring and you were instantly met with a cold burst of air, which was very welcome on a hot and humid morning. My grandparents had no air conditioning back in those days, so this was like heaven. Our pace would slow as we enjoyed the cool air and made our way over to the candy isle. Since we usually only had a dollar or so, we immediately inspected the lowest row, which held the colorful bins of penny candy. Imagine how many pieces you could buy for a dollar? But we always made sure that we had 25 cents for a soda. I don’t know about you, but soda tasted much better, and stayed colder, back in the day when it came in tall glass bottles. But as usual, I digress. What does all of this have to do with God and theology in general?

In Ecclesiastes 12, Solomon says, “Don’t let the excitement of youth cause you to forget your Creator. Honor him in your youth before you grow old and say, “Life is not pleasant anymore.” He goes on to emphasize the natural passing and general order of life in several verses that culminate with, “the dust will return to the earth, and the spirit will return to God who gave it. Everything is meaningless,” says the Teacher, “completely meaningless.”

Meaningless, huh? Is there really no point to our wandering through this world? Is the substance of our lives simply being born into this world, living a relatively short life and then returning to the earth that we walked upon? Well, I don’t think that’s what Solomon is saying and I believe that our existence has much more significance than simply taking up space and wasting air. Rather, I think that the point is that our time on earth is short. The past, although filled with significant memories, no longer exists. The future is uncertain and that leaves us holding on to our present, which will soon pass on to the history we make of it. Those of us that have a relationship with Christ, are called to embrace the present existence that we have each second of the day. And one of the problems we all have is “nostalgia”. Come to think of it, maybe it is a mental disorder after all. I find no benefit in walking through the corridors of the past. And as God seemed to be walking me through these lost moments of life, maybe His point was “release”, rather than “embrace”. I can’t go back in time. I can’t recreate the memories of youth that I store away in the “Nostalgia” file. But there are two things that God has revealed to me as I finish this blog and stop rambling. These memories are gifts from a Holy God that have carved me into the man I am today. And although I sometimes long for the days of my youth, I must honor him now, before I get much older and say to myself with regret, “Life is not pleasant anymore.” Because it really is meaningless when compared to my eternal relationship with God.

So I guess I’ll focus my thoughts on “forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which god has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus.” (Philippians 3:14)

Disconnect

Last Sunday, I spent the afternoon in my kayak on Armond bayou. Sunday found me in somewhat of a fog, and after we got home from church, I felt myself slipping into a spiral of frustration and self pity. Sundays are always a little tough for me. When you work in the church, Sundays are always the busiest day of the week. I used to love Sunday, because it was as if the culmination of all the work from the week before was coming to fruition. I used to feel as if I was releasing all the love that God had been building up in me all week to the incredible people that I was blessed to minister to. I love the local church, but I have to admit: I do not look forward to Sundays as much these days.

So, before the spiral slipped to a point of no return, I decided to get out of the house. I glanced at the lawn. Usually yard work helps to clear my mind, but the length hadn’t reached that critical point, so I couldn’t justify pulling out the mower. I glanced at my running shoes. Running is always great therapy for me, but since I can only squeeze out about 30 minutes these days, it seemed like too quick a solution. Then I glanced at my bag of kayak gear. The thought of disconnecting myself from land seemed to be very appealing, and the thought of disconnecting myself from reality, if only for a few hours, seemed even better.

Armond Bayou is an amazing place. In the midst of our fast paced culture, it’s a sanctuary for animals, birds and the soul. Oh yeah; there are alligators too, and lots of them! But once you venture out a mile or so into the twists and turns of the various inlets, you cannot imagine that just over the tree lines lies suburbia. Without the sounds of cars, construction and everyday life, you hear each animal scuttle through the salt grass. Fish break the water and turtles slide off the banks as you glide past on the glass-like liquid that carries you along. It reminds me of climbing into your bed after a hard day and covering yourself up with your blankets. The outside world vanishes for a while and you create a new temporary reality.

There was a time in my life when I dreaded being alone. For me, solitude was isolation, and isolation was far too connected to loneliness. As a person who has recovered from severe depression, I can now see that being alone is not such a bad thing. The problem is not solitude in and of itself, but rather why we choose solitude. When you deal with depression, there are times when you feel isolated 24/7. It’s a great feeling to choose being alone, because you enjoy being alone.

The Bible tells us that Jesus often withdrew from the crowds of people that surrounded Him to be alone and pray. Luke 5:15 says that the news of what Jesus was doing was spreading so much “that crowds of people came to hear him and to be healed of their sicknesses. But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” There are two very significant points in this verse. One, Jesus’ popularity was growing at a very fast pace at this point. And two, Jesus still needed time to get away and immerse Himself in solitude.

I find it funny how the busier we get doing things for God, the less with we spend with God? And yet Jesus saw the importance of isolating Himself with the father, no matter how large the crowds were. And He saw this as an imperative; before the people smothered Him.

We dig deeper when crowds push in. We immerse ourselves within the waves of humanity, that rush overhead, and then wonder why be can’t breathe. Peace is found at the shore, waiting and watching for what God is doing in those that we minster to. I can see them. And they do just fine with my isolation. Jesus saw them as well, and yet after His time of solitude, He still confronted the Pharisees and healed a paralytic man. Pretty cool example.

"Kayak Solitude" - Watercolor by Judi McWilliams - www.judimcwilliamsfineart.com

Time

Do you ever feel like time is racing by faster and faster? Do you look back on your life and wonder what happened to all the years? Job said, "My days are swifter than a runner; they fly away without a glimpse of joy." (Job 9:25) As I grow older, I am beginning to understand how he might have felt. Sometimes, my days do seem to race by like a runner, leaving nothing more than a blur of what once was. Lately, I've been thinking of the past quite a bit and what it all means to me today. It's funny how the past almost seems to have a physical existence, like it exists "somewhere", "out there". God created us to be thinkers and stretch the power of our minds, and I guess that's how the whole concept of time travel began. Man has always tried to harness time, but much like the mind, our efforts prove futile. Is time only a relative concept and our memories just bits and pieces of data, stored away in the recesses the miracle that is our brain?

Go back in time, for just a moment, to your very earliest memory. Mine is the day my parents brought my younger brother home from the hospital. I was only three years old and I remember this little red thing wrapped in white and the house filled with people. I remember my Mom smiling at me as she encouraged me to “meet” him for the first time. Your memory will be very different. It might be your first haircut, getting your first bike, a particular Christmas that stands out, your first time at the beach, whatever. Close your eyes, fix your thoughts on that moment and think about it for just a few minutes. Do your best to imagine the details. Try and remember how it felt. What did things look like around you? What time of day was it? What was the lighting like? What smells do you think might have been connected to this memory. Who was there? What were they wearing? Put yourself in that moment. Capture it. Be in that moment.

Now, concentrate on the moment you are in right now. You might be at work, at home, in a Starbucks like I am, wherever you are. You might be taking a walk, working out at the gym, shopping, whatever. Look at the environment around you. Focus on the details of your surroundings. Engage all of your senses. Who is with you or around you? Close your eyes and take in the and sounds. Focus on the smells. Absorb this very moment. Take it in. Capture it. Be in this moment.

Now imagine the great expanse of life in between these two moments. Imagine the vast and detailed canvas of your life. Two very specific memories. Two isolated points of time. Two very distinct and vivid moments, divided by an almost endless amount of details, moments and memories that make up the construct of your life. Now think about this for a moment. What holds these two memories to one another? What connects these moments together? What is the “filling” of these two very different and isolated points of time? What are some of the events in life that you would look at as significant; the ones that have transformed you into who you are today? Who are the people that have come in and out of your life? How long were they in your life? How have the touched you? How have they changed you?

Now go back to that first memory. How did that one significant event affect the filling of your life? How did that event play a part, even if very small, in the progression of where you are today? How did that event help in directing the life you lived after that moment? Why do you think God put you in that very place in time, to experience what you did in that moment? Why has He put you in this place in time, reading this particular blog?

What’s my point? I’m not sure. I guess as I get older, I am beginning to look at my life with a more critical eye. As I do certain things, right or wrong, I am more aware of how they might affect the rest of my life. I wonder how each action I take might have an influence on other events that follow. I wonder how what I do, say and even think, might touch someone else’s life and even change the course of events. Obviously, the birth of my brother was a very significant event in my life because as hard as I try, I do not remember anything before he was born. How different would my life be had he not come along? How different would my life be if he had been a girl, or if he had been mentally or physically disabled?

Think about it. A lot of time has transpired between the two moments that we just imagined. And as we live in the present day, our tendency is to move extremely fast. Let’s face it; as we get older, time seems to accelerate at an alarming rate. I remember when a year seemed to be an eternity. Now, a year goes by in the flash of an instant. And that makes me wonder, “What happened to all that time? Where did it go? What happened to all those details and moments of my life? And I guess what I’m really asking is, “How have I lived throughout this last year? What did I do with these memories and moments? How have they affected my “today” and how will they affect my tomorrow?

“What is your life? You are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes.” (James 4:14) If these things are true, does this not have a profound effect on how we live our lives each day? Each hour? Each minute? Each second? I think this might be the “meaningless” of life that God is trying to get across to us. Maybe in terms of eternity, our lives on earth are only a snapshot of what God created us to be.

I Am a Rock

As a kid, I grew up listening to folk music. Simon and Garfunkle, Bob Dylan, John Denver and Peter, Paul and Mary were standard sounds pumped though our “high fidelity” record or cassette player. Saturday mornings were always accompanied by my Mom cleaning the house, the smell of breakfast wafting from the kitchen and the sounds of 60s revolution in the background. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes I did my best to drown out the sounds from the living room stereo. Usually that came from dueling sound systems as I assaulted my parents ear drums with anything from The Smiths to Black Flag. But well into my 40th year of stumbling through this life, I find myself looking back on those days with a comforting nostalgia.

Now that I’m older, I have a greater appreciation for these artists. In fact, I’m a huge Bob Dylan fan. One of the best days of my life was taking my dad to see his aging folk idol at the Houston Rodeo in 2002. Dad’s reaction? “Wow! He sucks in his old age!” But you know, when hearing these artists today, my mind quickly drifts back to a much simpler time. Last week, as I fumbled through the radio stations, I heard Simon and Garfunkle’s classic, “I Am a Rock”. As I hummed along, I was surprised that I actually knew all of the words. But for the first time, I caught myself really listening closely to the lyrics of this song and what the artist had to say.

“I’ve built walls, a fort deep and mighty, that none may penetrate. I have no need for friendship; Friendship causes pain. It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain. I am a rock, I am an island…If I never loved I never would have cried…hiding in my room, safe within my womb. I touch no one and no one touches me.” Too bad they didn’t have Paxil or Effexor back in those days, huh?

As I wrote in my last blog, we all experience dark times in our lives. We all experience “the funk”. How familiar does this sound? You have a bad day at work, reprimanded by your boss and given a hard time by co-workers. On the way home, you’re pulled over for speeding and given a ticket. When you finally return home, the stressful reality of family life sets in with a greeting of screaming kids, clutter and a to-do list that looks more like a three page essay. At this point, the only thing you want to do is crawl under the covers and shut off for the remaining hours of the day. The thought of confronting anyone only makes you more frustrated. You don’t want to talk to anyone. All you want is isolation. “I am a rock.”

Jesus said in the gospel of Matthew, “Anyone who listens to my teaching and obeys me is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won't collapse, because it is built on rock. But anyone who hears my teaching and ignores it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand. When the rains and floods come and the winds beat against that house, it will fall with a mighty crash." After Jesus finished speaking, the crowds were amazed at his teaching."

So, when I isolate myself in my pain, am I really a rock? Am I an island? Do I have no need for friendship because friendship will only cause pain? “Friendship causes pain,”. Hmmmm. You know what? I would have to agree 100%. Friendship does cause pain, and that pain comes from the responsibility of loving one another. But it’s worth the risk. “Love one another.”

(Art by Ben Davies-Jenkins. "Golden Isolation"; oil)

Five Stories - Part V

“Love one another”. Three simple words. A simple call to action that Jesus gave his disciples just before He physically left this world. It’s funny how such simplicity can have such a huge impact in your life. When I first began writing these “Five Stories” blogs, I was spending several evenings just observing people. Hanging out in my favorite Starbucks, I sat, watched, listened and sipped on iced coffee. Observing culture. Thinking. Praying. But I found that as my thoughts transformed into words on my laptop, my heart began to transform as well. And more importantly, my thoughts about God began to change. They began to expand and yet also simplify. Grasping who God is and how He functions in our lives is not easy, is it? And as I began to meditate and study about what Scripture says about love, I began to see that grasping what love is, and how it functions in our lives is not any easier.

The Bible is filled with literally hundreds of references to love. So I guess it should be no surprise that one of those references simply reads, “God is love.” (1 John 4:16) And the simplicity of those words makes me wonder. Perhaps by expressing something so familiar, God is giving us a glimpse of the unfamiliar. Could it be that God and love are so intimately intertwined that this attribute encompasses all that He is? His very existence? God in a nut shell, so to speak? Kind of puts a different twist on the whole “love your neighbor as yourself” thing, doesn’t it? (Matthew 19:19) But think about that for a moment. I don’t know about you, but it becomes very difficult to love others when we are constantly obsessing over our own imperfections. Loving ourselves does not come easily these days; especially when media inundates us with how imperfect we are. And as I write this, I point the proverbial finger right back at me.

Well, the final story of “Five Stories” revolves around a little Asian woman that seems to live on the fringe of society. She frequents my local Starbucks and although I’ve seen her many times, I don’t even know her name. She appears out of nowhere, and then just like that, she just disappears. Sometimes she smiles and makes eye contact, looking just as normal as the next person. Other times she looks disheveled and just stares blankly into space. She’s an older woman and doesn’t really talk. I’ve tried several times to start up a conversation, but usually I just get a smile and maybe a brief “Hi”. To be honest, I didn’t even know if she spoke English. But after being inquisitive, as I usually am, one of the regular baristas at Starbucks confirmed that she did. But what catches my attention most is her erratic behavior. Sometime she’s there, and other times she’s not.

After a little more investigative work, I learned that this woman has severe mental problems and wanders around the area on a regular basis. Sometimes she talks with the baristas, and other times she just sits there. Her family usually comes to get her and bring her home, but most of the time she just sort of wanders around. She takes medication that apparently has a huge effect on her mental state. One day she made her way into someone’s open car, apparently just to take a load off. I laughed when one of my barista friends told me of how the customer came to the counter and asked, “Umm, could you please ask this woman to get out my car?”

“Love one another”. How does this connect with all this stuff about love? Well, one day as I watched this woman, I found myself wondering what she thinks about herself. Does she love herself? More importantly, does she feel loved by others? And those thoughts brought me full circle on all these rambling thoughts of love. Loving ourselves comes from a deep realization of how much we are loved by God. As we become aware of His love for us, and that He is love, we are able to express that love to others. But what is most important is becoming aware of His radical, unlimited and passionate love for us. That’s the starting point. How can love not pour from us when the God of the universe is literally drowning us in His love?
But here’s the key: Do we believe that He loves us that much? Do we realize it? Internalize it? Allow it to consume us, direct us and guide us? I’m sorry to say that most of the time, I’m afraid we don’t. At least I don’t. And because of that, I have a tough time loving myself. And I can’t help but think that people like this strange little lady, have a tough time feeling love because we cannot first love ourselves. And many of us as just as lost as she appears to be.

The Shack & The Gospel According to Mack Part I

I know that this is going to surprise some people, and maybe offend others, but I am not a big fan of Wm. Paul Brown’s The Shack, nor do I recommend it to anyone. “Gasp!” There! I said it! I can just hear the comments streaming through cyberspace and radiating through my computer: “What can you possibly have against this beautiful book?” “How dare you say anything negative about this theological masterpiece?” “Where do you base your opinions? Did you actually read the book?” Well, Yes. I finally conceded and read The Shack. Being in ministry, I thought that it would only be fair to delve into this phenomenon and develop my own opinion, rather than relying on word of mouth. And I have to admit, it was somewhat entertaining. It is very creatively and thoughtfully written. Brown obviously poured his heart and soul into this writing, and the issues he writes on are obviously very close to his heart. It’s engaging. It’s thought provoking. And it's heresy; plain and simple. Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. Heresy is not a very popular word these days. We live in a very politically correct culture, and unfortunately that sort of mindset has seeped into the Church. I mean, how dare I judge someones theological views of Christianity that might differ from mine? Aren’t we supposed to have a mind of tolerance in today’s postmodern culture? Well, Yes! I would say we should, and 99% of the time, I do. In fact, I’ve been accused of being somewhat of a “liberal thinking Christian” by some of my friends in ministry.

But regardless of social trends, and the Church’s attempts to remain culturally relevant, the very basic teachings of Christianity cannot be compromised. I think we have to eventually draw a proverbial line in the sand and stand by the truths of Scripture: God’s word revealing Himself to the world, through the power of the Holy Spirit, and fulfilled in His Son, Jesus Christ.

Basically, heresy is a thought or belief that rejects, or teaches something that is contrary to a basic belief system or a particular religious doctrine. Within the Church, there are certain truths that define Christianity and make it what it is. Heresy is a teaching that denies one or more of these basic truths. For instance, there was a movement within the early Church called Docetism, that rejected the fact that Jesus was human. Since this thought went against the basic teachings of the incarnation of Christ, and the humanity of Jesus, it was classified as heresy and dangerous to the early Church. The Docetists also denied that Jesus rose from the dead, which is essential to the basics of Christianity. Another group called the Nicolaitans were considered heretics because they believed that sins committed in the body did not affect the spirit. Because of this, they believed that there were no sexual sins that were off limits! Maybe an appealing thought in modern culture, but heresy none the less!

So, why do I consider The Shack to be heresy? Well, give it some thought, and I’ll let you know what I think in my next post!

Ha Ha! Now I’ve got your curiosity peaked!