The Energy of Gratitude

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Late autumn, my favorite time of the year. The air is getting cooler, the leaves have turned and fallen, in some places there may even be the first dusting of snow. Everyone is taking a deep breath in anticipation of the busiest season – the Christmas holidays. Right there, slammed in between Halloween Christmas, comes Thanksgiving. Supposedly the time of year when to count our blessings. The real danger is finding ourselves lulled to sleep by the turkey or drifting into a diabetic coma by Grandma’s pecan pie. Much worse is the feeling of overwhelm in a house full of visiting relatives we never really liked anyway. In today’s world, how many of us truly use the time to give thanks? Continue reading “The Energy of Gratitude”

A Lesson in Contrast

In college, my friends and I had a saying:

You cannot begin to change until you know the opposite of what you are.

It was a reminder that the only path to real growth was to see the truth about yourself and then understand the way(s) in which God was different from that. Sometime in my mid-thirties I realized that most of what I knew about success, character  – pretty much everything – I learned by example of what not to do or who I did not want to be like. It was then that I began to understand experientially what our college saying meant in terms of the power of contrast to teach.

Time, experience, and study have expanded my understanding of the Bible as well. I now realize that the stories within it most often reveal what God is not. This particular learning tool can prove quite effective with human minds struggling to comprehend a vast, silent, and invisible God. But nuance is sadly ignored under a strictly literal view of the text.

For example, countless sermons have been preached on Genesis 22, the story of Abraham’s call to sacrifice Isaac. Most people, commentaries, preachers, and Christians believe that God was testing Abraham’s faith when he told him to take Isaac up on a mountain and offer his only son as a sacrifice. They believe that God provided a ram for himself that foreshadowed God one day sacrificing Jesus to appease himself. But is that really what this story was about? Does God really test peoples’ faith in such horrific ways? Is this same God so offended by sin that he requires a human blood sacrifice to be appeased? Sounds an awful lot like the Canaanite gods to me.

2-5_abraham-sacrifice

Most (if not all) cultures contemporary to Abraham practiced blood sacrifice to appease the anger of their god(s). In fact, some sort of blood sacrifice has been practiced for centuries in almost all cultures ever to exist. Here is an eye opening site on the history of blood sacrifices around the world. I found the conclusions page fascinating.

So when God told Abraham to kill Isaac, he was not telling him anything new. Sacrificing children, especially the first-born, to the god(s) was commonplace in those days. In fact, everyone was doing it. To Abraham it would have been business as usual for his god to demand the kind of worship that required the ultimate sacrifice of human blood. But while the story began ordinarily enough, the end revealed something radically new. Just as the knife made its way to Isaac’s heart, a voice stopped Abraham. A ram had been caught in a nearby thicket and the voice instructed Abraham to sacrifice it rather than his son. Here was the first instance of God showing man that he was in fact unlike all other gods.

Lesson #1: God does not require human blood to be appeased.

If you believe that the revelation of God’s nature to mankind has been given throughout history progressively, then you would get how this little nugget rocked the ancients’ overall understanding of deities in general and the God of Israel in particular. But this was just a stepping-stone to a much broader understanding of what made the God of Israel different. Fast forward to the establishment of the temple cult under Moses’ leadership. Here God distinguished himself from other gods by commanding one animal sacrifice each year to bring justice for the entire nation.

Lesson #2: God does not require unlimited animal sacrifices.

The last puzzle piece of what God is like can be found ringing in the voices of the prophets. They called the nation of Israel to put a stop to ritual sacrifices altogether. According to them, the God of Israel had no need for blood at all.

Lesson #3: God does not require blood because God does not need to be appeased.

Despite this final clear message from the prophets at the close of the Old Testament, the Christian church continues to teach that Jesus was the ultimate blood sacrifice for sins. They even go so far as to say that God himself put Jesus to death as our substitute. Which brings me to why I am writing this post today.

In 2011 I wrote a post called Walking Through the Pieces. It went on to become my all-time most-read page, clocking in at a whopping 10,209 views as of January 6, 2020. No other post of mine has come anywhere near this number. The vast amount of interest in this topic has prompted me to keep digging into the story.

I have come to the conclusion that Genesis 15 is yet another look at what God is not like.

In the cultures contemporary to Abram, people made agreements this way: they cut animals in two and spread the pieces apart, leaving a path between them. Both parties walked between the pieces while stating the terms of the covenant. Walking the path symbolized a vow and a curse in one: I promise to do thus and so, and may this happen to me if I do not keep my end of the bargain. The practice was quite common and would have been second nature to Abram. Problem is, Abram was asleep when his covenant with God was ‘cut’. He did not walk through the pieces of the animals at all.

Throughout the Old Testament it was God’s practice to reveal himself over and against the surrounding gods and cultures of the day. In Genesis 15 we find a God who does not bargain with mankind. When God says he will do something, he does it, independent of any belief or behavior on man’s part. The lesson here is clear: God does what is right without requiring anything in return. He is a God of blessing not cursing, a God of grace not law. Too bad Sonny did not understand that all he need do was ask.

Today, most Evangelicals will tell you that salvation is part of a covenant with God called the gospel (good news). They use Abram’s initial belief in the promise of an heir to teach that man’s part of the bargain is to believe that Jesus’ death paid God back for our sins because God requires blood. Whoever refuses to hold up man’s end of the covenant (by believing) will be treated like those slaughtered animals – except they will suffer an eternity in hell (at the hand of God, no less)!

Even I was captured by this interpretation of the narrative when I assumed that Jesus’ broken body was the fulfillment of God’s part of the covenant on our behalf – that God himself slaughtered Jesus to pay for our sins.

But what if that interpretation of the gospel story is completely erroneous?  What if the church is as wrong about God as good ol’ Sonny? What if Jesus’ death itself is a picture of what God is not like?

What if the real point of the story is Jesus’ life – a picture of how we were made to live, spiritually free from guilt and shame – not the story of what will happen to us after we die?

What if the gospel has absolutely nothing to do with a bloodthirsty God?

What if Rome sacrificed Jesus on the altar of their power because his message of spiritual freedom was a threat to them and the religious order of the day? What if it had nothing whatever to do with God’s supposed anger towards mankind?

What if the story of Jesus dying on a cross was never about salvation, because we don’t need salvation, because the prophets told true: GOD DOES NOT REQUIRE BLOOD OR NEED TO BE APPEASED?

What if the story of Jesus’ death is a picture of what God is not like?

The literal interpretation of the Bible has served for hundreds of years to perpetrate division, hatred, and war – our modern forms of ritual sacrifice – all in the name of religion. It is time for the world to be turned upside down once again. It is time to challenge the powers that be with the nuance of a Biblical narrative that reveals a God more loving and full of grace than any of us have ever dared imagine or hope for. A God who blesses no matter what, loves no matter what, and requires nothing in return – not even belief that he exists. A God who needs no blood to be appeased, but stands in opposition to the angry, bloodthirsty ‘gods’ invented by violent men, designed to control people using fear, guilt, and shame.

True change can happen once we know the opposite of what we are. God grant that we be given the eyes to see, the ears to hear, and the courage to face the truth.

Thanks so much for reading.

Namaste,

~C

The Presence in her Absence

Most of the time I see my sister in waking moments. But on September 30, 2014, I was getting ready for work when the dream I had the night before rushed into my awareness. It was one of the most vivid dreams I have ever had, and although it is rare for me to remember even pieces of a dream, I recalled this one in its entirety.

I had wandered off the streets of downtown Nashville into a sparsely occupied coffee shop. I sat down at a small table to the right of the door and wondered what to order. When the door opened again, I looked up and in she walked. Her bell bottom jeans brushed softly against the wooden floorboards. She was wearing a loose-fitting plaid shirt, untucked at the waist. The long dark brown hair that hung limply from her head was tucked back behind the ears. Her face was troubled. I stared for several seconds. A double-take later, I realized I was looking at my sister, circa 1977. “You cannot be here,” I thought, “you’re dead!” She did not look in my direction as she sat down at the large table next to mine. Her back was to me.

More people trickled in. I did not recognize any of them, but I somehow knew they were friends of hers from college days. They filled up the empty seats around the table she had chosen, and soon an animated conversation about life and God ensued. I was mesmerized by her presence and could not take my eyes off of her. I sat, watched, and listened, resisting the urge to get up and join the group. I wanted to interrupt, to tell her how much I miss her. But I had the distinct impression that she would not have heard me anyway.

The veracity of the New Testament was the subject of the discussion. Of all people, my sister was patiently explaining the texts regarding Jesus’ death and resurrection. The young man sitting nearest her commented, “You don’t really believe that stuff, do you?” She replied in a calm voice, “Of course I do.” I got the sense from her statement that she was talking about something more definitive than faith or belief, something more like knowing. It dawned on me that now she sees and knows clearly, even as she has always been seen and known. For her, there are no doubts or uncertainties, only truth and love – oh, so much love.

I wanted nothing more than to stay there in that room, watching her, listening to her voice. Having a dream like that helps heal the scar of loss. Waking from a dream like that leaves a brand new one.

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Sunset on New Year’s Eve, 2014.

On the drive home that night, I thought again about the movie, What Dreams May Come and Robin Williams’s dip in paint. My sister adored color. I have known since the day she left this world that she sees it now like never before. That sunset gave me a little preview. She has painted lots more sunsets for me since then – each of them a creative masterpiece. I know that one day we will swim in them together.

One time at the beach, I asked her to draw the ocean for me. She did it, but then kept insisting she had not gotten the waves or the light quite right. I always thought that the waves and the light in her beach drawing had been perfect, but in this life, my sister had never been able to appreciate her own brilliance. The splash of color across that twilit sky on New Year’s Eve told a different story, a story of artistic abandon transcending the need to get things ‘just right’.

~ ~ ~

For many years I have had a vision of a house sitting on the edge of a cliff, overlooking the ocean. A garden stretches out in front of it, filled with every kind of flower. Now that she is gone, I can see her there, tending to the plants, anticipating my arrival. I should have known all along it was her garden.

Tattoo March 3 2016
Second star on the right and straight on ’til morning. – Peter Pan

Hawks still visit me from time to time. Her way of watching over me, I suppose. Love you bunches & bunches and tons & tons, Ditty.

~ Your Little Sis

God in Christ, Reconciling the World to Himself

Daily Prompt: Quote Me

by michelle w. on January 4, 2013

Do you have a favorite quote that you return to again and again? What is it, and why does it move you?

I don’t memorize Scripture very well. There. I said it. I mean, I can usually find a verse by searching a few of the words I remember. You know, the gist? And then there’s remembering the ‘address’. Yeah. I can usually get close … let’s see, like “I know it’s in the Old Testament…”

The title of this post is the small portion of the section below which I can actually remember. Here’s the whole thing:

2 Corinthians 5:18-20

Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation.  Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God.

I spent almost 30 years in what I call Evangelical World. In this world there is one goal and one goal only: Get everyone saved. This proved to be a very frustrating goal for me, as it turns out. Early on I found that I wasn’t very good and convincing people that they need saving. Apparently, I wasn’t very good at ‘praying people in’ to the Kingdom, either.

And then something really amazing happened: God blew up my theological box! What’s a theological box, you ask? Well, everyone has one. It’s the framework you have in your mind that forms your understanding of who God is (or is not). Even if you are an atheist, you have this box. Your box just happens to support the thought that there is no God. This is a theological box none-the-less.

So I haven’t quite gotten to why this verse moves me. It’s simple, really. In Evangelical World only a select few get in to God’s Kingdom. Only a select few will make the ‘right’ choice and find their way into God’s family. And in that world view penal substitutionary atonement is the prevailing (usually only) understanding of the atonement. As you can see from some of my other blogs about the atonement, this view basically says that our sin made God really mad (Evangelical World refers to this as ‘God’s wrath’). It also teaches that God is morally perfect and because we have sinned (missed the mark of perfection), God requires some sort of payment. They believe that Jesus paid God off by dying in our place. But these few verses turn that idea entirely on its head.

In them we see God’s real plan – the reconciliation of the world (as opposed to a select few). We also see that instead of the idea that God is mad and Jesus is loving (kind of like God the Father is wanting to spank us in a serious way – snuff us out – because of our sins, but Jesus stands in between God and us saying, “Don’t hurt them, Father, punish me instead!”), we see here that the Father and the Son are united in their quest to reconcile everything (and thus, everyone) to them. I mean, you cannot get any more intimate than to be ‘in’ someone, can you?

God in Christ, reconciling the world to Himself.

This moves me because it speaks a word of hope – something Evangelical World has completely neglected, even lost. As long as the Gospel remains available only to a select few, the world (Greek word ‘cosmos’ – the entire creation!) will be left out of the equation. As long as Evangelical World understands the Gospel in terms of the Law rather than Grace, they will have no hope to give.

Our God is a God of hope, love, peace, joy, and, above all, reconciliation. He Himself reconciled us (not because He was angry and needed a sacrifice, but because we didn’t believe He loved us). When man sinned, God did not change, we did. In Christ He showed us that absolutely nothing we do can turn aside His love for us, for His creation, for His beloved children.

That’s why this quote moves me. I hope it has spoken a word of hope to you as well.

Stranded in Time

Time is a funny thing. At any given moment I may feel like it’s standing still, like I have “all the time in the world.” Other times I can almost see time zooming by like the landscape outside my car window running past at 80 mph on a 14-hour trip home. I can’t imagine a more apropos image of time than sand moving through the middle of an hour glass. Like sand moving under ocean waves … utterly impossible to hold on to. Immediately upon our awareness of a moment, it is gone.

Looking hard at turning 50 means a lot of time has passed in front of my eyes, be they wide open or slammed shut. 50 years = 438,300 hours, 26,298,000 minutes, 1,577,880,000 seconds. Of course, the immensity of the number of seconds, minutes, even the 400k+ hours just makes my eyes cross. I’m not even sure how that kind of time translates into a life of days, months, and years.

And while I don’t think I’ve gone through life with my eyes closed, inattentive to its lessons, with 50 just around the corner, I begin to wonder. Where has all that time gone? What, if anything, have I managed to produce? What have I learned and have the lessons changed the way I live – who I am? Or as the saying goes, ‘What do I have to show for all that time?’ What about the time I have left? What exactly am I supposed to be using that for? What about today? Was the activity packed into the last 24 hours worth anything? Wonder what ocean all that sand is buried under.

StrandedInTime

Most of my life has been defined by my relationships; and, in a very real way, time itself has defined me. In my younger days I would have balked at such a statement. The very idea that anyone’s ‘stage’ in life defined them would have offended my determination to define myself apart from any constrictions like time or place or even other people. Age has taught me differently. And while I would like to believe that I have allowed my faith to define me, even that has become as elusive as the outgoing tide.

Truth be told, it all started with family, brothers, sister, and parents, that morphed into peers, then friends, then almost-as-close-as-family college relationships. Marriage and kids opened a whole new realm from in-laws to the people I met because our kids played together.

As much as I hate to admit it, forces outside myself have always managed to define me, for good or ill, making my current situation bewildering at best, terrifying at worst. You see, for the first time in my life, I can say that I feel truly alone, cut off from others in any tangible defining way. The sense of being lost has never been so real to me as it has the past 3 years. Not ‘lost’ in a Christian sense as in losing faith – my faith in God has never been stronger. More like ‘lost’ in terms of my place in the world, my purpose for living. This feeling, wondering what I’m doing ‘here’ has left me with a kind of hopelessness born out of a loneliness for real connectedness in some ways almost too painful to describe.

Moving 25 times has not helped matters. Certainly in early years my ability to quickly establish deep friendships sustained me through times of loss as I left family and friends behind. But all the moving has also taken its toll on my ability to find and establish deep relationships in the first place. Bottom line? I’m tired. Wore slap out, as we used to say down South. How does one go deep, tear apart, and then do it all over and over again, at the same time managing the guilt associated with having to let go in order to move on? The pain sometimes feels like an accumulation of sand at the bottom of the hour glass, heavy and oppressive. Makes me want to shut down to avoid going through the process again. But loneliness is its own kind of oppression for an extrovert who has been defined by relationships all of her life.

I find that my ‘stage’ also has a lot to do with the difficulty I’m having establishing new friendships. My eldest (girls) are grown and gone from home and my teenage son has no interest in any kind of deep relationship with his not-really-very-cool mother. Moving at almost-50 into a small community has left me wondering if there is anyone around me who isn’t already over-burdened with their own years of accumulated relationships – too burdened to want to invest in a new one with me. At the same time hearing my spouse say, “We still aren’t settled,” implying yet another move, does not endear me to the idea of putting in any roots now, knowing the pain that comes with the uprooting.

Having to work full-time for the first time in 23 years has opened my eyes to the difficulty of establishing and maintaining meaningful relationships amidst the demands of work, commuting, and continuing household chores. There are literally days when I wish I could find a way to stop – everything – even time itself. Other days time feels like a prison cell, and I can almost see myself hemmed in to a little box running inexorably on a time-line which I can’t for the life of me escape.

Finally, having spent the first 40 years of my life steeped in religion, I never knew how very difficult it is to find meaningful relationships outside the 4 walls of the structure we call church. For me there is no going back to that arena. It took me a long time to see the machine-like quality, the distance-keeping business as usual of that structure, but now that I can see it, it’s all I can see. No amount of loneliness could drive me back into the dry bones of that dying institution.

So where does all this leave me? Looking hard at 50, thinking about the confines of time itself, sometimes grieving the loss of it, sometimes grinding my teeth at the speed of it. Recently, I’ve begun to see forward, linear time as the true curse we have been given over to. All of life’s ills from sickness to sadness to death itself spring from the well of forward linear time. I often imagine what life would be like if we could go back and relive an experience. I’m not the only one. Pictures, video recordings, movies about time travel, even the fast pace of our technological connectedness all testify to the human desire to overcome time’s limitations.

Strangely enough, that truth – that we are ‘stuck’ in forward, linear time – has given me hope. The very fact that I understand time to be the ultimate restriction to who we are as God’s image-bearers tells me I was made for a life without it. If thirst proves the existence of water, then our desire to control time proves that there is an existence beyond its limits.

I read a book of fiction this year that has impacted my life probably more profoundly than any other book save the Bible. Written by Jonathan Safran Foer, the book explores the idea that true redemption means everything running backwards, thereby putting all to rights. I cannot over stress the impact this idea has made in my mind. When one of the characters imagined the full extent of this possibility – beginning with the plane moving backwards out of the World Trade Center building, culminating in Eve “unpicking” the fruit from the tree – I couldn’t stop crying. I have come to believe that this is what true justice – true redemption – looks like.

Think about it. In forward linear time …

… a raped teen can never have her virginity back;
… a bereaved parent can never receive his child back;
… a harsh word can never be taken back, while the scars of our hurts remain indelibly etched on our hearts for all time. No amount of forgiveness or repentance can ever completely undo a wrong.

But what if redemption is the actual rolling back of time? What if we are going to see our pain, all the world’s suffering, in reverse – being UNdone? While it boggles the mind, I also know in my bones it must be true. When the prison doors that keep us locked in time are finally opened, the possibilities are endless! Why not this one? Why not the restoration of every broken relationship? Why not the healing of every loved one? Why not the complete redemption of the kosmos? Why not?

Revelation 21:
Then I saw a new heaven and a new earth; for the first heaven and the first earth passed away, and there is no longer any sea. And I saw the holy city, new Jerusalem, coming down out of heaven from God, made ready as a bride adorned for her husband. And I heard a loud voice from the throne, saying, “Behold, the tabernacle of God is among men, and He will dwell among them, and they shall be His people, and God Himself will be among them, and He will wipe away every tear from their eyes; and there will no longer be any death; there will no longer be any mourning, or crying, or pain; the first things have passed away.”
 
And He who sits on the throne said, “Behold, I am making all things new.”

Living Someone Else’s Life

One morning last week around 4:00 a.m., groggy-eyed and avoiding the treadmill, I spent a little time reading through my FB news feed and ran across the following:

I came to the realization yesterday that I am living somebody else’s life, not my own. At least that’s how I feel. I need to change some things.

My first thought was, “We’re all living ‘somebody else’s’ life!” I think John would agree.

See how great a love the Father has bestowed on us, that we would be called children of God; and such we are … Beloved, now we are children of God, and it has not appeared as yet what we will be. We know that when He appears, we will be like Him, because we will see Him just as He is. And everyone who has this hope fixed on Him purifies himself, just as He is pure.
1 John 3:1-3

I’ve been saying it this way for awhile now: “I don’t belong here.” Apparently, I’m not the only one …

Sometimes it feels like I’m watching from the outside
Sometimes it feels like I’m breathing but am I alive
I won’t keep searching for answers that aren’t here to find

All I know is I’m not home yet
This is not where I belong
Take this world and give me Jesus
This is not where I belong

So when the walls come falling down on me
And when I’m lost in the current of a raging sea
I have this blessed assurance holding me.

All I know is I’m not home yet
This is not where I belong
Take this world and give me Jesus
This is not where I belong

When the earth shakes I wanna be found in You
When the lights fade I wanna be found in You

All I know is I’m not home yet
This is not where I belong
Take this world and give me Jesus
This is not where I belong
[x2]

Where I belong, where I belong
Where I belong, where I belong

Well, it’s not just that we aren’t ‘home’ yet, we aren’t ‘me’ yet. C.S. Lewis wrote:

It is a serious thing, to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest and most uninteresting person you talk to may one day be a creature which, if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship…

But it has not yet become apparent – visible, known – who I am becoming. I read another post on FB today by a dear friend who commented that a particular photo of her was ‘terrible.’ I thought to myself that if we understood what Lewis is talking about -really understood and believed – we would not be concerned in the least by what we see here, now, on the outside. This shell of a body will be left behind, and although we will one day be reunited with it, it will not be what we see and know now. I think Lewis is right in this sense: We are being changed into something that for us right now would be entirely unrecognizable.

Think about it this way, what does an acorn have in common with an oak tree? Can you by looking at an acorn even come close to perceiving what it will become (had you not seen the tree, of course)? No. In 2 Corinthians 5 Paul put it this way:

1 For we know that if the earthly tent which is our house is torn down, we have a building from God, a house not made with hands, eternal in the heavens. 2 For indeed in this house we groan, longing to be clothed with our dwelling from heaven, 3 inasmuch as we, having put it on, will not be found naked. 4 For indeed while we are in this tent, we groan, being burdened, because we do not want to be unclothed but to be clothed, so that what is mortal will be swallowed up by life.

The tent Paul is referring to is the body we are ‘trapped’ in (although I think it’s even more than that – we are trapped in forward, linear time, our memories can trap us, even our sins trap us and in that way we are bound by our very selves to something we often hate – a habit, a pattern, an addiction, so much that can keep us bound up). But like my friend, Paul experienced this groaning, this deep desire to become, to experience who and what he really is in Christ. I have felt this – seriously felt it, and more so as I grow older.

And yet, just the fact that I feel this disconnectedness with my true self – the mere fact that I so often hear “I don’t belong here” coming out of my mouth – assures me that there really is something out there, something so much more, something completely beyond my imagination! Else I would create it right here and now! It is out of my reach. And out of yours. But never out of God’s. In fact, this very thought often takes me past whatever is bothering me in the moment to the wonder of knowing the hope beyond hope we have waiting for us.

My friend, don’t change a thing, don’t try to change a thing! He is at work. The fact that you feel like you are living someone else’s life is proof that He is making you into something magnificent, spectacular, amazing beyond anything you can imagine or even desire! We think we know ourselves, but we couldn’t be more wrong. We have no clue.

The worst movie I’ve seen in the past 5 years had one of the best lines in it I could imagine. It was a movie about vampires who were seeking a cure. In the midst of one of the conversations, one of the characters remarked,

Life’s a bitch, and then you don’t die.

I literally laughed out loud! I thought how true that was – my worst nightmare would be if this life is all there is.

Then the Lord God said, ‘Behold, the man has become like one of Us, knowing good and evil; and now, he might stretch out his hand, and take also from the tree of life, and eat, and live forever’ – therefore the Lord God sent him out from the garden of Eden, to cultivate the ground from which he was taken. So He drove the man out; and at the east of the garden of Eden He stationed the cherubim and the flaming sword which turned every direction to guard the way to the tree of life.
Genesis 3:22-24

Lest you have fallen for the lie that God kicked man from the Garden of Eden as punishment, I am here to tell you the Truth: Sending man from the Garden was the ultimate GRACE – protection against being stuck in our sin for all of eternity. Mercy, God-style. 🙂 If you aren’t tired of yourself and the constant battle in your mind and life, you won’t understand anything I am talking about. But if you are like me, sick to death of your body of death, then you are looking forward with joyful anticipation to seeing what you will become! John went so far as to say that the hope itself purifies us – makes us like Him.

Hope in the Bible does not have the meaning we use today. When we say ‘hope’ in our day, we could easily substitute the word ‘wish.’ But when the writers of the Bible wrote the word ‘hope’ they were talking about something secure to stand on, something you could actually hold on to, something very real and not a wish at all. But holding on to hope requires discipline. Serious mental discipline. It would be so much easier to let go of hope and sink into the mire of our present ‘reality.’ After all, what does an acorn know of becoming an oak? Absolutely nothing. Wait, maybe the acorn does know something about becoming an oak: it hurts like hell.

Truly, truly, I say to you, unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit. John 12:24

There’s only one thing the acorn has to do to become an oak: fall to the ground and die. In our case too, death is required. So the next time you are frustrated with your situation, the next time you feel like your life is slipping through your fingers out of your control, the next time you cry out in frustration because that thing you used to do just showed up again – turn to your hope and hang on for dear life: It has not yet become apparent who we will become…

… but just as it is written, “ THINGS WHICH EYE HAS NOT SEEN AND EAR HAS NOT HEARD, AND HAVE NOT ENTERED THE HEART OF MAN, ALL THAT GOD HAS PREPARED FOR THOSE WHO LOVE HIM.” 1 Corinthians 2:9

Lightning and Vultures and Corpses – OH, MY!

It’s Sunday and still early. Armed with nothing more than a lightweight throw and a steaming cup of coffee, I venture out onto my back porch to enjoy the sunrise. I marvel first at the stillness, broken occasionally by 5 or 6 different bird calls and a nearby rooster’s crow. A quiet ‘moo’ interjects itself every so often. Splashes of color begin to paint the back forty off my deck. If a leaf is disturbed, it is by the rare squirrel scampering through the tree limbs. An odd experience, Fairview without wind. For one of the few times in my life I live on a plateau. Every road into Fairview goes up, consequently, it’s one of the windiest places I’ve lived, making the morning stillness that much more exceptional.

I marvel at the peace I find myself wrapped in. Peace in the midst of a world gone mad. The most annoying sound I hear these days is television news – almost exclusively devoted to politics. The debates pierce my ear like the unwelcome call of the crow amidst the other, more pleasing bird songs in my back woods. Here’s a little tidbit I’ve learned about Fairview: there are large colonies of carrion birds living here – significantly more than other areas like it. I guess it’s a good place for them since I am assaulted by the musky smell of dead skunk on a weekly basis. One day a friend and I were out walking and happened upon a flock of vultures feeding on something in the road. Big enough to feed a flock of that size, it must have been a deer, although we didn’t get close enough to see. Without discussion, we simply backed up until we felt safe enough to turn around and retrace our path outta there. Upside is, the dead stuff doesn’t hang around long enough to really get in the way.

All this talk of vultures reminds me of a puzzling Scripture passage I am just beginning to unravel. (A woodpecker is beating out its song on a tree, like a knocking wake-up call, only more rhythmic. I’m reminded of the syncopated beat skills of my daughter on her djembe: a drummer with a different beat…) Most people make the assumption that Matthew 24 is about the ‘end times’, but even a cursory reading of the chapter reveals that Jesus was talking about lots of times – some of His ‘predictions’ would happen not 40 years after he spoke them, while some had happened long before Jesus graced the sod and would continue on long after He left it. Catastrophic events like earthquakes, war, and famine were nothing new to history or the disciples He was teaching. But maybe that was His point – life will go on until the end of the Age, just as it has since the beginning of creation. I think that is one of the central messages Jesus came to give us: Even though our hearts have been changed from within, the chaos without goes on. The heart-change doesn’t stop the chaos, but it does give us an ability to live differently in the midst of it. Kind of like my peaceful back forty in the midst of wall-street riots and the screams of politicians continually vying for power. Maybe my back yard is a picture of the human heart at rest in Christ in the midst of a dog-eat-dog world.

Matthew 24: 23-31: Then if anyone says to you, ‘Behold, here is the Christ,’ or ‘There He is,’ do not believe him. For false Christs and false prophets will arise and will show great signs and wonders, so as to mislead, if possible, even the elect. Behold, I have told you in advance. So if they say to you, ‘Behold, He is in the wilderness,’ do not go out, or, ‘Behold, He is in the inner rooms,’ do not believe them. For just as the lightning comes from the east and flashes even to the west, so will the coming of the Son of Man be. Wherever the corpse is, there the vultures will gatherBut immediately after the tribulation of those days the sun will be darkened, and the moon will not give its light, and the stars will fall from the sky, and the powers of the heavens will be shaken. And then the sign of the Son of Man will appear in the sky, and then all the tribes of the earth will mourn, and they will see the son of man coming on the clouds of the sky with power and great glory. And He will send forth His angels with a great trumpet and they will gather together His elect from the four winds, from one end of the sky to the other.

So I got to thinking about this section, specifically vs. 28. The meaning of the vivid picture of carrion feeding on corpses has long eluded me. As I gaze through the trees, a couple of things start making sense. Clearly Jesus is contrasting His coming with the rise of false leaders. We’ve turned “Jesus Christ” into a name, but “Christ” wasn’t a name. The word “Christ” means Messiah and Messiah simply means ‘anointed.’ The Hebrew people understood the word anointed to indicate a redeemer – one who would rescue Israel from her oppressors. So the first warning Jesus gives is that fake (often self-proclaimed) Messiahs – redeemers, anointed ones, ones ‘chosen by God’ – were going to come. In fact, that had been happening since before Jesus was born. Many of the disciples were former Zealots, a sect of Jews dedicated to ending Roman oppression. They were constantly looking for a Messiah, an anointed one, a Christ – a leader who would deliver them politically and give the Jews back their earthly kingdom. It was Judas’s misguided belief that Jesus was going to do exactly that which led to his betrayal. Anyway, many such leaders rose and fell in those days. It’s interesting to note that Matthew began this chapter with Jesus’ prediction of the destruction of the Temple. Here’s what Wikipedia had to say about Zealots and the Temple’s destruction:

According to Josephus, the Zealots followed John of Gischala, who had fought the Romans in Galilee, escaped, came to Jerusalem, and then inspired the locals to a fanatical position that led to the Temple’s destruction.  Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Zealotry

Did you get that? False leaders – Messiahs, Christsled to the destruction of the Temple. Their terrorist ways were such a threat to the Roman Empire in that region that the only solution was to take away the center of their devotion – the Temple. The real problem with Zealots is they are looking for freedom without. Jesus came to bring us freedom within.

According to Him, the mantra of the followers of these false messiahs was, “We’ve found the christ – he’s here or he’s there. In the wilderness, in the inner room, we have found him, come and see.” Now look at the contrast of Jesus’ coming: “For just as the lightning comes from the east and flashes even to the west, so will the coming of the Son of Man be.” Here’s what I know about lightning: 1. You can see it for yourself; and if you miss the flash, you’re gonna hear the thunder soon enough. 2. Lightning cannot be contained. Look at how Jesus described this lightning flash: “from the east … even to the west.” In other words, His coming, His presence, will be out in the open and it will reach around the globe. This contrasts the claim, only here (in this church), or only there (if you believe this way), implying we have to go where these supposed messiahs/christs reside. Jesus is bigger than buildings, programs, and even our limited belief systems; in fact. He’s WAY bigger. Last I checked, He came to us, met us at our point of need (thus the word ‘incarnation’). Jesus didn’t command the sinners and tax collectors to high-tail it into the synagogues (you know, the religious structures they were banned from entering), no, He went to them, to marketplaces and bars, to parties, homes, and the streets where they lived out their exile. Jesus experienced their world – but more than that, He met them there. 3. Lightning cannot be controlled. C.S. Lewis said it best, “He’s not a tame lion.” Far from it – He’s out of control!! Out of our control, anyway. I don’t know about you, but when I see lightning strikes coming closer, I run for cover. Isn’t it interesting that He compared His coming to lightning – one of the scariest and most volatile of nature’s wonders? The real marvel is that we try and box that lightning in. It would be hilarious if it weren’t so tragic.

With that as background, I’d like to bring it back to the vultures and corpses that have been puzzling me all these years. It seems to me that Jesus is saying people can be like vultures.

Vultures gather in packs where they can feed, and what they eat is dead.

I’ve been walking with Jesus for going on 33 years now and I have literally seen it all. Well, all that Western Christianity has to offer. I’ve seen more so-called ‘anointed’ men than you can shake a stick at, and for the most part the message they bring is Law. Maybe they haven’t heard, the letter of the Law kills. What they are offering is already dead. Being in Christian leadership has given me perhaps a different perspective than some of my readers. What you may not know is that the politics of the church aren’t all that different from the republicans slinging mud at the democrats and vice versa (John Piper’s response to Rob Bell’s book, Love Wins, is a good example of that kind of nonsense). In fact, I’ve said for many years now, “No one can hurt you like the church.” Being chewed up and spit out by sheep and wolves alike has kind of become our family’s M.O., and it feels a whole lot like death. For me, no more. Funny thing is, it wasn’t bitterness that led me out the door, but pure weariness. I exhausted myself and my resources running to and fro following this and that move of God (“in the wilderness … in the inner room”), where, in the end, I found only death. This morning in my wooded back yard, I discovered a shiny rainbow of leaves in the midst of the peaceful Presence of the Holy Spirit, free from the clamor of men telling me what and how I should believe. If only they understood the mystery of diversity that God built into the fabric of the universe itself, maybe they would realize the arrogance of their claims to Truth, to being ‘anointed’, to knowing ‘the way’. Maybe one day the false will realize their falseness and all will become well with the world, at peace, like my back yard.

Until that day, I don’t know about you, but I’m weary of the self-proclaimed messiahs, promising me health, wealth, and happiness (focused on the outer man, not the inner one where real change happens – the hidden spaces of the human heart – where only love signifies). I’m tired of being told I should be under a pastor’s authority, when Jesus clearly said, “But do not be called Rabbi; for One is your Teacher, and you are all brothers. Do not call anyone on earth your father; for One is your Father, He who is in heaven.” (Matthew 23:8-9) According to Jesus, no man on earth has claim to any authority over me, and His words teach me that the hierarchical structure of the church (laity vs. clergy) is not His will, for all that powerful men claim otherwise. In Matthew 20 Jesus went so far as to blast apart our idea of pastoral church authority altogether:

But Jesus called them to Himself and said, “You know that the rulers of the Gentiles lord it over them, and their great men exercise authority over them. 26 It is not this way among you, but whoever wishes to become great among you shall be your servant, 27 and whoever wishes to be first among you shall be your slave; 28 just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.

As usual the traditions of men trump the words of Jesus.

To the sheep John had this to say in I John 2:27: “As for you, the anointing which you received from Him abides in you, and you have no need for anyone to teach you; but as His anointing teaches you about all things, and is true and is not a lie, and just as it has taught you, you abide in Him.” I can still hear the call of the carrion crows: “The worship in this church is anointed … or: we know the way of salvation – come follow us!” The still, small voice I hear inside the vastness of my eternal self tells me a very different story… all about lightning and vultures and corpses.