alone

Easter Sunday 2014

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Empty-Tomb1

“Almighty God, who through your only-begotten Son Jesus Christ overcame death and opened to us the gate of everlasting life: Grant that we, who celebrate with joy the day of the Lord’s resurrection, may be raised from the death of sin by your life-giving Spirit; through Jesus Christ our Lord, who lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, now and for ever. Amen”

It’s Easter.

I celebrated with about 130 or so others at the future location of The Church at Avenue South. Though the building has been gutted and won’t be ready for official use for another two months, still the real church got together to proclaim to anyone and everyone that this is Resurrection Day.

The resurrection DOES change everything. It means no more fear of death because Jesus overcame that last enemy when he walked out of the tomb with the sunrise on that first Easter Sunday. It means that whatever I’m afraid of has already been defeated and overcome by this same resurrection power that brought Jesus from death to life.

It means that there is no such thing as TOO LATE, that there’s always time for a do-over and a second chance and a fresh start, that as long as we’re alive we have a purpose and a God willing to bring out that purpose in us.

So I revisit an old Easter toast that I blogged about three years ago today: “We lift our glasses and drink to a Love that never gave up.”

https://oneragamuffin.wordpress.com/2011/04/20/an-easter-toast-stolen-from-someone-on-facebook/

I’ve posted a link so you can read the original post if you want.

Regardless, I’m glad that Easter has come. I’m glad that it isn’t just one day a year, but something that I can celebrate all 365 days (and 366 on those leap years). I’m thankful that just because the holiday ends doesn’t mean the power of that resurrection or its effects do.

 

Easter Season Liturgy Part V

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“O God, Creator of heaven and earth:  Grant that, as the crucified body of your dear Son was laid in the tomb and rested on this holy Sabbath, so we may await with him the coming of the third day, and rise with him to newness of life; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”

So I did the whole downtown Franklin thing again. It always does my heart good to be back there, revisiting my favorite haunts and breathing in the perfect spring night air.

I don’t really know what to do with the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter. It seems so low-key compared to the tragic drama of Friday and the joyful triumphant victory of Sunday.

But I know what’s coming. I wonder what those disciples were thinking and feeling. Or the Marys. It must have seemed like the lowest point of their lives. All of their hopes and dreams and been awakened and they had only just begun to hope, then it was dashed and broken to pieces beyond recognition.

The one they thought would save them was dead in a tomb. They had seem the bloodied body, seen the moment when the spear went into Jesus’ side and both blood and water poured out. There was no doubt.

I’m glad I’m on this side of history and I know what’s coming. I know with the next sunrise comes Sunday and the empty tomb and a risen Christ. That’s where my hope lies.

I can’t imagine people whose faith won’t allow for miracles or resurrections. Would that even be faith at all? What if Jesus’ death were only an example and the only way He lived was in the memories of His followers? What kind of hope would that be?

Only a literal resurrection can give true hope. Only a Jesus who’s really and truly alive, with the wounds in His hands, feet, and side, could inspire the joy of Easter. That’s why I can’t wait for tomorrow and the celebration that comes with it.

 

Rainy Saturdays, Maltese Falcons, and Such

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maltese-falcon-22

Just a note before I begin in earnest: All those reports of my giving up the ghost after I wrote that blog entitled “A Prayer for the Weak” are highly exaggerated. I’m still alive and I’m still kicking (though only metaphorically). I haven’t given up. I was only trying to get into the head of someone who might have felt that way (which I have at times, though not now).

Now on with the show.

What do you do on a rainy and cold Spring Saturday? Watch old movies? Well, I did.

I chose The Maltese Falcon, one of the first and certainly one of the best of Hollywood’s film noir movies out of its golden age. I mean, you have Humphrey Bogart, Mary Astor, Peter Lorre, and Sydney Greenstreet and a gumshoe plot second to none.

I love the line Bogie delivers near the end of the film. When asked what he’s holding in his hands (the very falcon in question), he answers, “The stuff dreams are made of.”

What a great line. It reminds me of another, this one from the first Harry Potter movie: ” It does not do to dwell on dreams, Harry, and forget to live.”

Dreams are good. As the proverb says, without vision, the people perish. But dreams are only just dreams if you don’t do anything to make them realities.

Enough of that. I recommend The Maltese Falcon, especially when it comes on TCM with an introduction by host and old movie expert Robert Osbourne.

As always, I’m thankful for waking up this morning and having another day to celebrate the greatest gift of all– life. I’m thankful that (as a pastor once said and as I’ve quoted before) what seems impossible to me isn’t even remotely difficult to God. Making impossibilities into realities is God’s specialty, and He’s had plenty of practice at it.

Just keep that in mind and you’ll be fine.

A Prayer for the Weak

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Maybe this is your prayer tonight:

Lord, I feel like giving up tonght. It’s just not worth it anymore.

Whatever I’m desiring most seems always just out of my reach. Right now, it feels easier to quit holding on to that dream of mine.

I want to pray “Lord, I believe; help my unbelief” but I don’t even have enough faith for that. I’m bankrupt when it comes to believing.

I’ve just about quit believing that I’ll ever get married. Or have children. Or that the children I do have will ever turn out right. Or that anyone will hire me. Or that I’ll ever be able to work in a place where I come alive instead of counting the hours and minutes until the weekend.

I feel like I’m completely screwing everything up. I don’t feel like anything I do matters or makes the tiniest bit of difference.

I do know that You’re still God. I do know that my impossibles aren’t impossible to You. In fact, they’re not even difficult for You.

I know You are truer than my feelings and though You seem so far away, You’re nearer to me than my next breath.

I don’t know how any of this will work out, but I know You will take care of me. Even if You deny my dreams, it’s only because they weren’t big enough for You.

I declare all these things with a faith that’s barely a blip on the radar screen. A faith that’s as small as a mustard seed. But still I declare.

So here’s me offering all I know of me to all I know of You. Take me and use me in whatever way You want. Let me know You’re near and let me feel in this moment how much You love me.

I surrender.

My Favorite Gospel

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luke

“The synagogue attendant gave Him the scroll of the prophet Isaiah, and Jesus unrolled it to the place where Isaiah had written these words:

The Spirit of the Lord the Eternal One is on Me.
Why? Because the Eternal designated Me
to be His representative to the poor, to preach good news to them.
He sent Me to tell those who are held captive that they can now be set free,
and to tell the blind that they can now see.
He sent Me to liberate those held down by oppression.
In short, the Spirit is upon Me to proclaim that now is the time;
this is the jubilee season of the Eternal One’s grace.[a]

Jesus rolled up the scroll and returned it to the synagogue attendant. Then He sat down, as a teacher would do, and all in the synagogue focused their attention on Jesus, waiting for Him to speak. He told them that these words from the Hebrew Scriptures were being fulfilled then and there, in their hearing” (Luke 4:17-21).

A few weeks ago, a friend asked me what my favorite gospel was. It had something to do with my personality type. I said my favorite was Luke, but I couldn’t really pinpoint why other than pointing out the way Luke notices and writes down all the little details.

I think I know why now.

I’m in a class at my church where we’re reading through a Gospel each week and this past week, I read Luke. Well, actually, the past two days. I’m a bit of a procrastinator.

More than any of the Gospel writers, Luke is a champion of the disenfranchised and the outcast. He’s the only one to mention the lowly shepherds who were chosen by God to be the first evangelists and missionaries for the newborn Christ.

He points out that Joseph and Mary couldn’t afford a lamb so they brought two turtle-doves instead.

He’s the only one to include the parable of the Good Samaritan, where the hero is a despised outcast, as well as pointing out that the Good News is for all peoples everywhere. For people like me. For people like you.

That’s why I love the Gospel of Luke.

PS They’re all really, really good. I recommend reading one (or all of them) at some point very soon.

Paying it Forward Again

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pay-it-forward

I had an idea. Maybe the next time you see a homeless person, instead of giving them money, maybe you should offer to buy them a meal.

I had that opportunity once and it blessed me as much as it blessed the homeless man who got a free meal. I know for certain it was a divine appointment and I knew in that moment the joy of being obedient.

When you get the chance to buy someone a meal and they ask why you are doing it, just  tell them, “I’m doing this in the name of Christ,” for the Bible says when you give someone a cup of cold water in the name of Christ, it’s Christ you’re serving.

Maybe you’ll get the chance to pay for the person behind you at Wendy’s or McDonald’s or Starbucks.

Maybe it you’ll be able to pay someone’s electric bill. Or water bill. Or phone bill.

Or maybe it will be an act of service like cutting someone’s lawn or cleaning up their gutters. You never know.

But meeting someone’s physical needs is only meeting them halfway. Jesus didn’t just heal people’s bodies; He healed their souls, too.

We’re called not just to bandage wounds, but to offer the ultimate healing found in Jesus Christ. We have the opportunity not just to offer a cup of cold water but to point to the Living Water that never runs dry. We can offer not just a sandwich to someone but the Bread of Life that eternally satisfies.

My prayer for you (and for me) is that we keep our eyes open for such opportunities. If you see someone selling those newspapers, buy at least one and give that person a bottled water or something warm to drink. Be willing to talk to them and listen to their stories. Be sensitive to the Spirit’s leading and be open to sharing your own story.

On Valentine’s Day, remember Who first love you and me.

 

 

 

For When You’re Feeling Anxious

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It’s February. And unless you’re living in Hawaii with all those palm trees and beaches, it’s cold.

My feelings on cold weather go something like this: if it’s gonna be this cold, it might as well snow, or what’s the point?

Maybe you’re feeling more than just cold. Maybe you’re feeling anxious or stressed.

Perhaps you’re out of a job and wondering how that big stack of bills is going to get paid. Or where they money is going to come from to put gas in the car. Or food on the table.

Maybe you’re still single and wondering when (or even if) that special someone will ever come along.

Maybe you’re children don’t want to have anything to do with you anymore and you don’t know how to get through to them anymore.

Maybe it’s just a combination of a million little things all rolled up into one big case of anxiety.

Don’t you know that Jesus didn’t come to bring your peace?

He came to be your peace. He is after all the Prince of Peace.

That’s what all of us who are overwhelmed with worry and stress need to remember. Jesus may not take away all those things that cause anxiety, but He promises to walk with us through every trial, every tribulation, and every dark valley.

Jesus has already overcome whatever you’re afraid of. Nothing can touch you apart from God’s permission. And absolutely nothing can come between you and the love of your Abba Father.

Sometimes, you need medicine to make those anxieties go away. That doesn’t make you less spiritual. It just means your brain needs a little help to function normally.

I love the line from that movie, The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel: Everything will be fine in the end. If it’s not fine, it’s not the end.

Philip Seymour Hoffman and the Struggle for Authenticity

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I was deeply saddened when I read of the passing of Philip Seymour Hoffman, one of the best character actors around. I like many of you was shocked to find out that drugs, and more specifically heroin, were the culprit for his demise.

I thought, “Why in the world would a guy as successful and talented as that need to medicate with drugs? What could possibly be so bad about his life?”

Then I read a blog or two about him that opened my eyes. I’ll do my best to simplify what I read there without plagiarizing anything or anyone.

Sometimes, character actors can lose themselves in their roles. They almost literally become the characters they’re portraying. Which is all well and good until it comes time to be yourself again.

I wonder if Philip had forgotten how to live in his own skin as himself? Or maybe he didn’t like who he was and preferred to live as someone else?

I know like so many addicts, he probably at some point chose the drug, but after a while it stopped being a choice. Unless the drug was the one who chose him.

I’m sure he hated the drug that he craved at the same time. Maybe he felt he was too far gone to save, too deep in his addiction to find a way out. Maybe he didn’t feel like he could let anyone into his battle with drugs and felt like he had to fight alone.

I’m speculating a lot here.

But I do know this. Jesus came to set the captives free.

He came for the addict. He came for the self-abuser. He came for those who don’t like what they see in the mirror and who don’t like themselves very much.

I’m not going to speculate as to whether Mr. Hoffman knew Jesus or not. Many believers get just as caught up in addictions and have just as many character flaws as anyone else.

I will say that God is close to the broken-hearted and those who are crushed in spirit. He’s near to those who cry out of desperation and deep need.

If you’re trapped in addiction, get help. Don’t fight your demons alone. And know that God is the champion of the downtrodden and distraught, the losers and underdogs, those who just can’t get their messes cleaned up or their lives figured out.

Last of all, remember that it’s only by the grace of God that it’s not you or me lying dead in a bathroom with a heroin-filled needle stuck in our arms. Only the grace of God keeps any of us alive and wakes us up in the morning.

Yeah, I still love the grace of God.

Cold Rainy Monday Nights

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I don’t mind the rain. I don’t even mind cold and rainy nights. As long as I’m looking at the rain through a well-insulated window from inside.

Actually, I don’t even mind driving in the rain as long as it’s not dark outside. But that’s what I found myself doing tonight when I took my paycheck to my bank’s ATM on a dark, rainy Monday night. At least it was a short drive.

There’s something very peaceful about listening to rain hitting the windows and the roof. Especially if you have one of those antiquated tin roofs. It’s one of my favorite calming sounds.

It helps me to be still and be quiet. It helps calm my anxious thoughts (if I have any) and not be so prone to thinking ahead to the next day or the next week. I think I even pray better when I hear the rain outside.

I know I need to make time for those moments of doing nothing but being intentionally still and quiet and ready to hear God’s voice. It doesn’t have to be all day or even for an hour. It can be fifteen minutes where I don’t have any televisions or radios or iPhones to distract me from what God might be wanting to tell me.

Maybe we can encourage each other to cultivate those quiet moments during the day. I think it would make a huge difference toward getting my mind back toward spiritual things and my eyes refocused on Jesus.

So those are my thoughts on this wet cold Monday evening.

One Second and One Year Later

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dontwalksign

“What was intended to tear you apart, God intends it to set you apart. What has torn you, God makes a thin place to see glory” (Ann Voskamp, The Greatest Gift).

I just realized today that it’s been exactly one year today since I got hit by that car. And for those who weren’t keeping up with my blogs or my Facebook posts then, I got hit by a car. FYI.

I was crossing the street in downtown Franklin, ticket in hand to see The Perks of Being a Wallflower. I didn’t look both ways before crossing and stepped in front of a Ford Mustang. Hey, I only get hit by the finest American-made vehicles.

I actually only got side-swiped. It was enough to knock me down and to take off the side-view mirror of the car.

I felt worse for the young girl driving the car than for me. She was so apologetic and remorseful. And it really wasn’t her fault. I was the one crossing where there wasn’t a crosswalk, walking without looking.

Even now, it’s easy to wonder what would have happened if I’d waited one second. Just one second.

I’d have seen that movie. I’d have skipped a few hours in the ER. I’d still have roughly $1,600 in my pocket.

I’m sure you’ve done that.

Maybe it’s a word or a phrase spoken in the heat of the moment out of frustration or anger.

Maybe it’s a bad decision made in haste or out of desperation or anxiety or exhaustion.

Maybe it’s the friendship you ruined or the family member you drove off with an insensitive remark or unkind word.

Maybe it’s one false step on a slick spot in the garage or on a slippery patch of ice on some stairs.

You wonder what it would be like if you could just have that one second back to do over.

I know two things: 1) if you could go back, you’d erase every good thing that’s happened since, and 2) you can’t go back anyway (at least not without a 1985 DeLorean or some other time-travelling device).

What you can do is:

1) Be thankful that you’re still here and that you’re still alive and blessed with life and friends and comforts and (best of all) God Himself.

2) Remember that God can turn even the worst moments of your life into stories worth hearing, stories that make people want to know more about your God.

3) All really and truly is grace (something I borrowed from Ann Voskamp). Nothing that happens to you is in vain or needless. God works everything– and I mean EVERYTHING– together for your good and His glory.

I finally got to see that movie. My finger looks a bit funny but it still works. I look both ways EVERY time before crossing the street now. Life is still good, God is still great, and I am still very much blessed.