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Last evening a group of Young Adults went to a corn maze on a farm near Frederick, Maryland. Katherine and I were invited (actually the more accurate term might be that we were ‘grandfathered’ in), and since we knew we would enjoy the company, and because we have wanted to see what a corn maze is, we went. We were glad.
A corn maze is literally what the term implies. In this case it is 14 acres of high stalks of corn, like what you’d see in Field of Dreams – with a circuitous path cut throughout those many acres. Obviously it isn’t only one path. There are dead ends and deceptive loops that utterly frustrate pilgrims (no pun intended) and extend the time of finding oneself back to the entrance.
At some point all become lost – that’s the point – in fact it isn’t uncommon for everyone in the same party to be lost, to clearly hear one another’s voices, and to have no idea where each other is – all at the same time!
But it’s a good lost – not an, ‘if you don’t figure it out, you’ll drown ala Poseidon Adventure,’ type of lost. It’s more of an, ‘it wouldn’t be fun if we didn’t get lost,’ kind of lost. Getting lost is part of the built-in fun of the experience.
I thought about that this morning and realized that getting lost is part of the life we unfinished ones live in this world. We lose our way for all kinds of reasons. Sure, we sin, and that has its own wayward effect. But sometimes we just wander in the busyness of life, the pressures that cause us to slightly and momentarily take our eye off of the path. We get lost in sorrows, discouragement and disappointment. And let’s face it, life itself is complicated enough to leave us feeling utterly misplaced.
But if we belong to Jesus, we’re never alone – not only because He is there (I don’t want to minimize this, but the truth is that we are more like that frightened little child that asked his mom for Jesus ‘with skin on Him’ than we want to admit), but because in Christ, we belong to a Community of fellow wanderers who share that seemingly paradoxical existence of living in a broken world while also in the assurance of the future Renewal of all things.
Sometimes all we can do is hear one another’s voices. And I think that’s okay – I think of David and those who refused to leave his side when he hid from his son Absalom (2 Samuel 15:21) – because one day, the entrance will appear, and there will be no more confusion – only Reunion. I’m glad for that.
peace.
This past Sunday I told our church about my annual summer growth of facial hair. Such changes often become the center of interesting conversations and comments: ‘Hey, preacher, did you break your razor this morning?’ ‘What’s that growing under your lip there?’ All followed by good-natured laughs. One of my favorites comes from a stately woman in Miami, who would say (in all seriousness, I might add), ‘You look so handsome without that.’ But every summer, never fail, after weeks on the beach, and to some extent, to celebrate yet another year of pretending to live a surfer’s life, some form of facial hair is grown – sort of like my summer Mr. Potato Head arrangement – or that hairless man you style with ‘hair’ by navigating little shavings of metal with an accompanying magnet (that never gets old!).
The crazy thing is this – On Sunday, because my beard is where my hair has chosen to turn mostly gray, and because it doesn’t grow out very thick, no one even knew what I was talking about – they couldn’t see it! Within days, in interacting with people I realized this, as they would say things like, ‘Oh, you do have something there.’ Such affirmations of my manhood…
Actually this illustrates a truth from the Gospel – that we are far more than anyone can see by looking at externals. There is more to the ‘package’ than meets the eye for any of us. Each of us knows the ugliness that resides deep beneath the surface, and all have had that lousy feeling of being praised on the outside while grieving dark hearts and broken lives. We bear scars that most will never know and experiences that we hope will remain buried in time.
I’m fortunate – my wife and daughters like the attempts (and even the beard), so I’m safe where it matters most. But so many don’t feel safe with their secrets. They feel exposed even where none can see – because they know what is inside – for them it feels as though it is all out there. ‘If anyone knew…’ they think.
But God does know. In fact, the good news is that God knows what others don’t. The cold distances, bright lights and fast pace of life don’t obscure His view. He knows who we are and He loves us in Jesus. It’s that simple, really. The Gospel finds us unfinished and the God of the Gospel sees what others miss (1 Samuel 16:7) and loves us that way – until we get Home.
This is good news.
peace.
This past week, on a flight from Orlando, Florida to Baltimore I read an interview with Johnny Depp in Vanity Fair magazine. Through the years our family has enjoyed several of his movies. In the interview Depp describes his life, his acting career and his future hopes. Depp lives one of those, only-if-you-have-zillions-of-dollars lifestyles. He owns homes in Europe and he often escapes to an island in the Caribbean that he purchased (that’s right, an entire island) that is situated next to another island he owns, I assume for the purpose of buffering anyone from living ‘next door.’ He spends his days traveling on his massive yacht (with full staff), playing guitar, painting, reading and listening to music – not to mention taking time for vacation with his family.
Somewhere in the article Depp reveals his heroes. In fact he has named the coasts and various alcoves of the island after them. They include actor Marlon Brando and journalist Hunter S. Thompson, to name two, both dead, Thompson by his own hand in 2005.
I wasn’t a Thompson reader, but certainly loved some of Brando’s roles, however what struck me was how Depp found ways to sort of elevate the reputations of these guys in his own mind – to make them larger than life.
And then there is Jesus. The humility the prophets wrote of, and then His contemporaries witnessed, have never been expunged from His story. He is still presented as the ‘suffering servant,’ the humiliated one, and as one ‘despised and rejected by men’ (Isaiah 53:3). His dark moment in the Garden of Gethsemane has not been prettied up, nor His humiliating death erased from the woof and weft of the narrative.
In fact those who follow Jesus have come to realize that His greatness is found in His ability to sympathize with their brokenness, and His dearness is found in His unwillingness to cling to His greatness. And it is that core humility that escapes most when they look for qualities that would define the gods they seek.
Today it occurred to me that one day someone will do with Depp what he has done with his heroes. They will take the highlights and make them the entire reality, while Jesus directs us to the ‘lowlights’ of His earthly journey, and then invites us to find a God who refused to live above our condition.
I like that story better…
peace.
Last week was one of those where I had to mow the lawn and get a haircut within a few days of one another. You have to understand that my hair, if not controlled, is a wild beast. It seems that over night it mysteriously transforms me from a typical, nondescript individual to the lost twin of Moammar Kadafi (in fact, Katherine refers to me as Moammar when my hair becomes too long, or… bushy, that is). My parents were thrilled when I graduated from Seminary because they were finally able to replace my High School graduation picture in the den (affectionately referred to as ‘the mushroom’).
Our lawn isn’t much different (and I wonder if lawns and owners are like that old cartoon that depicts people and their dogs as looking remarkably similar). When I mow our grass it is spectacular. But two or three rainy days with a lot of sunshine in between, and it becomes a yard worker’s (that would be me) nightmare.
Just this past week I had to constantly restart our poor machine because it couldn’t handle the thick grass. Fortunately the barber’s razor is electrically powered!
Such is the nature of the lawn and a head full of hair – always growing, and always being trimmed.
Yesterday, while inspecting the already-growing lawn, I was reminded of this doctrine we call sanctification. It teaches that as long as we are on the earth God is at work within us. That’s the quick version, but it is a good starting place. In other words, we are constantly being pruned and shaped by God’s indwelling Spirit, daily being confronted by our inner weaknesses, sins and struggles, relentlessly being challenged to live with a view toward the new heavens and the new earth, and daily being shaped to resemble Jesus more and more – a lifelong process every Christ-follower experiences.
There are painful moments because in the process God shows us who we really are, but then there is relief as He draws us before His Throne and dispenses Grace. And it is that daily work of God in our lives that reminds us that at one in the same time we are both unfinished, and completely loved and kept by the Father until He brings us home.
What struck me was that if we are perfectly honest, we don’t really like this process in its rawest form – because there is something in us that has a hard time believing God would love us enough to endure our garbage. And then it hit me that the only lawns you don’t mow and the only hair you don’t cut are those that don’t grow, right? We’re talking artificial turf and fake hair. Because the alternative to the need for consistent maintenance is an artificial existence – an artificial appearance, even. And so we are trimmed because we are living, breathing and growing vessels – we are human. And God has built into His Redemptive work, a vehicle – sanctification – in which to confront our mess and keep us human all at the same time.
Friends, this is such Good News.
peace.
On Sunday we celebrated Easter – the Resurrection of Jesus. I preached Luke’s account of two travelers joined by the Risen Christ as they made their way home to Emmaus from Jerusalem. We typically use the event to describe yet another ‘proof’ that Jesus rose from the Grave – one more eyewitness account. And to be sure, it is a compelling argument. However I have found that such arguments tend to be more effective as reassurances to those who already believe in Jesus.
There is nothing wrong, and everything right with rehearsing what we have as Christ-followers. In the Resurrection we are assured that sin has been crushed under the weight of Christ’s Righteousness – that the Grave could not hold Him, and therefore will not hold us in death. Because Jesus has risen, we will too, and have, because we are His through faith.
But the big story is that in conquering the Grave Jesus authenticated His message that the Kingdom of God had arrived, evidenced in the meal He shared with His new friends in Emmaus. To fully appreciate this you have to go to the first meal recorded in the Bible – when Adam and Eve ate the forbidden fruit, in the Garden. The first meal represented the desecration of all God had made and declared to be good. When Jesus broke that bread and shared that meal, post-resurrection, He signaled a new day – a new hope. The Son of God had reversed the Curse of the Garden. Where the ‘first Adam’ (Romans 5) had eaten to our damnation, the ‘second Adam’ ate to our shared Redemption in Him.
What strikes me is that Jesus did so with two people who would remain on earth after He ascended into heaven. He would return home, but they would still face the broken things that define a sin-stained world – and so do we.
Lesslie Newbigin, in his The Good Shepherd, says, “The Church is not an organization of spiritual giants. It is broken men and women who can lead others to the Cross.”
Perhaps our friends’ eyes were opened when they saw the wounds on Jesus’ hands. Whatever God used to illuminate them, in that one gesture Jesus demonstrated that a hungry world can catch glimpses of the new heavens and the new earth – not in grand sermons, but in fellow travelers that have met the Risen Christ, and who dare to share the ‘meal’ of love at the table of their lives.
peace.
The Cross in this picture was taken at a local property that is being restored for the purpose of housing women in recovery who need a fresh start and a safe place to make it. The property is sprawling. One day the grounds will display a garden that will grow herbs and vegetables cultivated for the purpose of training in the culinary arts.
The buildings are a different story – they are historic and beautiful, and one day will be housing and serve as classrooms for these women, but for now they are also old and in near disrepair. Squatters filled the condemned halls that long went without water and electricity. What once was obviously a magnificent spread of stately edifices is now in ruins.
Work teams have been scheduled year-round for the purpose of restoration, and it was while a group from our church worked in one of the buildings that I saw the Cross. It was situated on the edge of two or three panels of dry wall that awaited their destined installation. How and why it got there is a mystery, yet somehow it spoke volumes to me.
It is Holy Week. We celebrate Jesus. In describing His death, we think and speak in terms of Sacrifice and Substitution – both packed with meaning. But this week I have been struck by the level of intimacy Jesus was willing to involve Himself in on our behalf. We celebrate that He came and entered into our mess. In Jesus God took on the human condition.
There are moments when I don’t like that intimacy – when I would rather the roof cave in and the walls decay, and the brush to become overgrown than for God to be so close to me that He can detect every nuance of sin’s ugly stain that runs so deep within. He knows – He sees – There is nothing I can hide – not only because He is God, but also, and especially because Jesus took on flesh and blood – His body to be given and His blood to be spilled – He became a hideous display because that is what humanity is – it is what I am. I don’t want Him to see me, and perhaps, more, I don’t like that He became me.
There is no sterile version, yet there is no more beautiful one either. Paul says, ‘God made him who knew no sin to become sin that we might become the righteousness of God’ (2 Corinthians 5:21). The Cross is a supreme act of intimacy in which sorrow, rejection, death and love conjoined in one man – Jesus.
This is Good News.
peace.
The other day I washed my Jeep (you know… the lonely vehicle in the snowy church parking lot. Hint: look one post down). Amazingly it was only a week after 6-8 inches of snow fell in the area. So on a beautiful, 70-degree, sun-soaked day, I spent a couple hours in shorts and a t-shirt on the very driveway we had cleared of snow (bundled in full winter garb) just seven days before. A chill has since returned – it seems winter’s last gasp.
That first car washing of the year comes with the annual regimen of reconnecting the hoses and reengaging the water. During the winter months the water flow to the outdoors faucets is cut off – the threat of burst pipes during a hard freeze too risky (and expensive) a proposition to neglect doing so. However the process is painless and the time needed, minimal.
With the fresh flow of water come good things. Salty roads, sidewalks and vehicles are relieved of the ugly reminders of icy months. The fact that we can access water again brings the ‘feel’ of warmth.
Reconnecting to God has its correlations. With our own demons, skeletons, daily struggles with sin and personal failures come cold seasons that leave us feeling ugly, unconnected and in need of a washing that only Jesus brings.
The scriptures call the process ‘Repentance’ and the cleansing, ‘Forgiveness,’ clearly promising that if we ‘confess’ God will forgive (1 John 1:9), only to discover that He is a Father who does not ‘treat us as our sins deserve’ (Psalm 103:10). Like with the first hose usage in the spring, initially it all seems so daunting – to come to God, disconnected, broken, ashamed and fear-filled – to admit sin, to acknowledge guilt and to take responsibility – but Jesus accepts our approach gently and with compassionate embrace.
Unfortunately, clean as my Jeep looked after the washing, every ding and dent remained, serving as reminders of my sloppy parking. Yet even in that reflection there is something unspeakably sweet about the fact that until Jesus makes all things new, the Father fully receives us, dings and all, with delight and compassion, when we flee to Him. No physical rinse compares with the relief an unfinished Christ-follower experiences upon tasting God’s Forgiveness.
peace.
I flicked this picture of my Jeep early this past Sunday, overlooking the lower parking lot area of our church. There had been a dusting through the night and it was quite cold. The next day we would get the kind of snowfall that our family looks forward to each year – the ‘get out of jail (uh… school) free,’ kind of snow. But on this day it was appropriate to take a pic of that lone vehicle at roughly 6:30 AM. It represented three years to the day that I have served as the pastor of this church (March 1). I’m not exactly sure what that means, but it seems to me that milestones matter. Jesus tells us that ‘in this life we will have trouble,’ but that we can take heart because He has ‘overcome the world’ (John 16:33). We unfinished ones will never enjoy perfection in this life, and to be sure there will be rough patches, but for the journey we are taken places and given moments and experiences that I think serve as God’s reminders that He isn’t finished with us – and that He hasn’t forgotten that we are His.
This is Good News.
peace.
This past Tuesday a few of us braved the cold (man was it frigid!), the crowds (like none I’ve ever seen), the Metro, the vendors, the barricades and the detours, to attend the 44th Presidential Inauguration. Here are some Random Thoughts…
There are few scenes so inspiring as the National Mall – Forrest Gump didn’t do it justice – being there is the thing. The monuments combined with the layout bring real meaning to the whole idea of Citizenship. I can’t think of a better venue for such an important moment in our Nation’s history.
Our Nation has taken an important step – I can tell you that some of the policies of our new President disturb me, but our history, in the areas of Race and Injustice do as well – ‘We the People’ of these United States broke historic ground in electing a man of color – a man who fifty years ago could not legally drink out of the same water fountain as any white American. You could sense the joy and relief in the smiles on the faces in the crowd. My heart was filled with pride and my eyes with tears. A long and sad drought has ended in America.
The collective Celebration was extraordinary – It was a massive party, really – we all sang American Pie with Garth Brooks, and Pride – In the Name of Love with U2. Aretha Franklin belted out, My Country ‘Tis of Thee, and we were mesmerized as Yo-Yo Ma and Yitzhak Perlman, along with a lovely ensemble, performed a John Williams piece for the occasion. I was reminded that when people are a Community many of the differences that often divide fall away. We would have attended regardless of who became our new President (everyone here needs to go to at least one, right?), but the nature of this moment was special and it felt that way. Would that the Church would be such a Community…
Presidents come and go – What a stunning image – of seeing one President who was leaving office, and another who was taking it – all on one stage. And it served as a reminder that World Leaders are humans who have life spans and terms of office. They are Public Servants and deserve our respect and honor, but they serve for a season. Even dictators one day die. Even if they are the first African-American President, they one day step down. Presidents are humans. They have huge responsibilities – but of the human order…
Jesus is still King – John calls Him “the ruler of the kings of the earth,” (Revelation 1:4-6) – while displaying His stunning credentials – that He “loves us and has freed us from our sins by his blood…” When all is said and done we can put an Inauguration, historic as it is with all the pomp and excitement, into perspective. We can enjoy it (and I did), and we can appreciate its significance – but in the end, what matters is that the Prince of Peace is our Redeemer – Jesus, the King of Kings. And His Kingdom will never end.
This is Good News.
peace.
This Christmas our family experienced something we never before have. Each year we set out to find a Christmas tree – not just any tree, mind you. If you know anything about us, you know that it has to be the perfect tree. I use the word, ‘we’ loosely because Katherine and our daughters are not nearly as concerned about the tree as I am (our son used to be part of the process, but now he goes after his own Christmas trees). It isn’t that they don’t care, rather it is that, in contrast to my perspective, theirs involves sanity.
We have driven throughout entire cities, spent hours and walked miles on tree farms looking for this tree. Needless to say, it hasn’t always been the most enjoyable experience. Many wannabe trees have availed themselves to my ruthless scrutiny only to be turned away for the most minor of imperfections – you would think I had no knowledge of the Gospel when it comes to trees. Suffice it to say that we have our stories (cringe)…
This year was different though. It happened to be one of the coldest days in November and the wind chill was excruciatingly harsh. So we went to a local high school and, amazingly, we picked the first tree we looked at. I bit my lip to not suggest we investigate just a ‘few’ more trees. Within a half hour we were home. It was still light outside! And marvel of marvels, everyone was happy – thrilled, in fact. But not only that, it turns out that this became our all-time favorite Christmas tree. Go figure.
Here is my encouragement for the New Year: Don’t waste your days and love pursuing the impossible. Perfection is an illusion. Instead, enjoy the Perfect One and rest in His Grace. The temptation to reject God’s Grace comes with the prideful suggestion that we can attain something that the Cross alone brings. So trust me with what you already know: You are going to sin, struggle, fall and fail in 2009. Therefore remind yourself – it never was about your ability to be perfect in the first place. Being unfinished is the most beautiful aspect of belonging to God’s family, because it means being loved and ‘becoming’ in God’s work of making us ‘mature and complete’ (James 1:4).
Settle on what Charlie Brown taught us years ago – there are no perfect trees, but there are many Beautiful ones (only, promise to gently remind me of this in November).
peace.
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