Rainy Saturdays, Maltese Falcons, and Such

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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: ”Β 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.

An Essay I Wrote

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I may or may not have mentioned that I’m currently involved in an intensive discipleship training class at my church. Part of the class involved writing an essay.

I chose to write on the unique contributions that each of the four Gospels make to our overall understanding of Jesus and Christianity. It almost felt like a part of my brain got turned on that hadn’t seen much action since my seminary days of yore. Here is the result (with the reminder that it is an essay and reads like one):

“Each gospel has made its own unique contributions to the overall biblical canon and to our understanding of who Jesus is and what His purpose and mission were while He was here on earth. Although each of these is technically anonymous, there are enough clues and evidence, both biblical and extra-biblical, to safely say that these were written by Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John.

Matthew writes primarily for a Hebrew audience, emphasizing how Jesus is truly the prophesied Messiah. He brings in the genealogy of Jesus and parallels him to Moses on several occasions. Matthew brings out Jesus’ teaching on the Kingdom of God and how it is both now and not yet. Many see Matthew as represented by a man, because he emphasized the humanity of Jesus.

Mark, the first of the Gospels to be written, focuses on Jesus as the Son of God, the true Messiah sent from God into the world. His Gospel is fast-paced, accentuated by his frequent use of the word “immediately.” He is represented by a lion, because he brought out the kingly nature of Jesus.

Luke writes to Theophilus, but likely his intended audience is both Jews and Gentiles. He gives a convincing defense of Jesus and the gospel for both evangelistic and discipling purposes. He is represented by an ox, the lowliest of animals, for his attention to the lowly and outcasts, such as the shepherds, and the Gentiles. His theme is the universality of salvation, how it’s not only for a specific race or region, but for all peoples everywhere.

All three of these Gospels are called the Synoptic Gospels because they share many similarities, such as miracles, parables, and teachings. Matthew and Luke probably borrow from Mark, who in turn uses a source of collected sayings and teachings, commonly referred to as “Q”, to build his own writings upon.

John writes to a primarily Gentile audience in Ephesus and is by far the most intentionally evangelical of the Gospels. He writes that His purpose is to show that Jesus is indeed the Christ that those who read may believe and have eternal life in His name. He is often represented by an eagle for his high Christology and his lyrical and poetic imagery, as well as his epic style of writing, as evidenced by the opening 18 verses of chapter one.

Each Gospel reflects the personality and background of the writers and brings out different aspects to the character, life, and teachings of Christ. Some emphasize his teachings, while others focus on His ministry. Yet all four together present a compelling portrait of Jesus as both God and man, Savior and Lord.”

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.

Choices

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“It is not our abilities that show what we truly are. It is our choices” (Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets).

Yes, I know. I just quote from a Harry Potter movie. Egads.

I’ve read all the books and seen all the movies and I liked every one of them. I especially liked the magic as metaphor theme. I think that these books aren’t really about magic as much as they are about growing up, discovering who you are, and learning what truly matters. But that is a topic for another blog on another day.

I do think that it’s not our abilities but what we do with them that ultimately matters in the end. I’ve seen people with loads of natural ability bested by people not nearly as talented but far more determined. Especially in the arena of sports.

One of the most famous choices is the one Joshua made early in the history of the nation of Israel. He basically said that while the others were free to worship whatever gods they wanted that he and his family would choose to serve Yahweh and Yahweh alone. No other.

That same choice is offered to me. Daily. And daily I must choose whether I will serve Jesus or something else, which usually ends up being my own selfish desires. Sometimes I actually choose right, but more often than I’d like I choose wrong. I choose me.

Also, I think we choose whether or not we’ll give up on those who let us down or give them second chances. We choose who we let into our inner struggles and who we shut out. We choose role-playing versus authenticity and honesty.

But ultimately, it’s about who to serve. As the famous theologian Bob Dylan said, you gotta serve somebody. So who will you choose?

Sleeping in a Storm

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I was recently reading over a very familiar passage in Matthew 8 where Jesus calms the storm. I’ve actually lost count of how many times I’ve either read that story or had it read to me.

The scene opens with Jesus and the disciples crossing the Sea of Galilee in a boat. It’s a calm sea, nothing unusual or unexpected. Suddenly, out of nowhere, hurricane winds start rocking the boat and the disciples start majorly freaking out. Like I would probably have done. I’m sure there was some hyperventilating and breathing into paper bags.

They find Jesus sleeping in the boat. I guess that’s not hard to imagine, since Jesus is likely exhausted from a very full day of ministry and teaching. Plus, He undoubtedly has been up all night praying.

What gets me is what I read today in a commentary. It said that one of the signs of true trust in God is being able to sleep in the midst of trouble. Like Jesus slept in the storm.

Jesus more than anyone modeled perfect trust and faith in His Heavenly Father. That allowed Him to sleep in the midst of crashing waves and strong winds.

I think the point of the story isn’t how Jesus keeps His children out of storms, but how He is with them during these storms. And just like the disciples, we end up finding out that Jesus really is in control of the wind and the waves and our lives.

I’m sure that if I got the easy, comfortable life I’ve often longed for, my faith would be weak and worthless. I’d never have front row seats to see how Jesus has faithfully come through for me in every crisis and storm and trial.

So I guess I’m thankful even for those storms. That’s where I learned just how close Jesus is to those who cry out to Him.

What I Gave Up for Lent This Year

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Last year, I gave up Facebook for Lent. I won’t lie. It was harder than I thought it would be. I found out how much of a hold Facebook had on me and how much of my time it consumed.

It was freeing to not feel tied down to Facebook, to not have to check to see who responded to my posts. Who liked them. I admit I didn’t always use the extra time toward seeking God. But it was a start.

This year, I’m giving up ALL forms of social media. For those of you new to the interweb, that means Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Pinterest. I checked E) All of the above.

This is my second day and the old tug is back. That tug that says that one glance won’t hurt. That one look won’t lead to an hour or more checking status updates of friends.

I covet your prayers. Specifically, I’m asking for you to pray that I’d use this time more intentionally to seek God in prayer and in His Word. That I’d be open to whatever He says, whether it’s something I want to hear or not, whether it’s easy or painful, even if it requires me to die a little more to the safe and comfortable and routine.

As you probably surmised, I haven’t given up WordPress. It’s funny how God can speak to me through my own writing, sometimes while I’m in the very midst of writing it. This and a sleepy cat in my lap are my forms of therapy.

I’ll keep you updated on what I’m learning and hearing from God during these 46 days of Lent. I’d love to spend this time praying for you specifically as well, so feel free to text me your prayer requests at (615) 556-5850 or email me at gmendel72@icloud.com. I am also available to meet with you in person (if you live close to the Nashville area). But please, no autographs. 😁

May this God that the grave couldn’t hold draw you ever closer to Him during this season of remembering and reflection and become the very desire of your heart. Amen.

A Beautiful Borrowed Lenten Prayer

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I found this Lenten prayer from Henri Nouwen when checking my email. I’m subscribed to a site that sends me a daily quote of his because I am a huge fan of his writing. This one spoke powerfully to me and echoed my own thoughts better than I could ever express them. It seems very appropriate for this Ash Wednesday.

“The Lenten season begins. It is a time to be with you, Lord, in a special way, a time to pray, to fast, and thus to follow you on your way to Jerusalem, to Golgotha, and to the final victory over death.

I am still so divided. I truly want to follow you, but I also want to follow my own desires and lend an ear to the voices that speak about prestige, success, pleasure, power, and influence. Help me to become deaf to these voices and more attentive to your voice, which calls me to choose the narrow road to life.

I know that Lent is going to be a very hard time for me. The choice for your way has to be made every moment of my life. I have to choose thoughts that are your thoughts, words that are your words, and actions that are your actions. There are not times or places without choices. And I know how deeply I resist choosing you.

Please, Lord, be with me at every moment and in every place. Give me the strength and the courage to live this season faithfully, so that, when Easter comes, I will be able to taste with joy the new life that you have prepared for me. Amen.”

I could only add that God would give me the discipline to take the time I normally spend on social media and use it to delve into His Word and not just read words but to have my mind and heart transformed by what I read.

 

Where My Trust Is Without Borders

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I think I’ve alluded to this in previous posts, but I am currently unemployed. I haven’t worked since January. There have been times, some of them very recently, when I wondered how I was going to pay my bills. That’s a scary place to be.

Then I sang a song during the 11:11 worship service at Brentwood Baptist Church. It spoke of keeping my eyes above the waves and walking out on the water to wherever God calls me to where my trust is without borders.

I honestly never thought until just now that that’s where I am. When you utterly reach the end of your resources, you find out where your faith and trust lie. You really understand that old cliched saying about never knowing how much you need God until He’s all you’ve got left.

So many can’t find jobs. So many probably have felt worthless and useless and unemployable. Like no one wants or needs what they have to offer.

But as I sang those words, a sweet peace came over me. My faith will be made stronger and I will know more deeply than ever how near my Savior is to those who cry out to Him in desperation. As weird as it sounds, the butterflies are still there. My stomach still feels tied up in knots. But I also know it will be okay in the end. No, more than okay. I will end up EXACTLY where God wants me to be and all this will totally have been worth it to get there.

So as much as I sound like a broken record, I’m still thankful for my life. I’m grateful for waking up this morning and living another 24 hours. I’m thankful for the best family and friends a guy could ever ask for who have stuck with me through good and bad, thick and thin (and through all sorts of other overused phrases like these).

Sometimes, faith really is believing when common sense tells you not to. It may not always look courageous. Sometimes, it may look like barely holding it together and summoning every ounce of strength to not quit on God. It may be praying the most honest prayer ever recorded in history: “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief” and making it through the next five minutes.

All I know is that I have never seen God forsaking His own. I have never seen their families abandoned or left wanting (my paraphrase of a Proverb). I haven’t seen God fail me or let me down or let go of me.

I do still believe, Lord. Help my unbelief. Amen.

I’m Offically As Old As Elvis

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Well, ok. The secret’s out. I’m really not 39 (again). I’m 42, the same age as Elvis was when he passed (no pun intended).

I had a great birthday. It started out with a fantastic lunch at Loveless Cafe with my mother. I even got in a nap (one of the few perks of being unemployed). I even got my taxes done. It was a great day.

It was another day where I chose to focus on the positives instead of the negatives. I chose to be thankful for all that I have instead of lamenting all that I lack. Like a job. Or money.

But I still have my wonderful family. I still have some truly amazing friends (to which I say thank you for all the Facebook birthday well-wishes). I have good health and a good God who always takes care of me.

I have the laziest (and most companionable) cat in the world. She celebrated my birthday the way she celebrates most days– with a marathon nap.

As I’ve mentioned before, a birthday is a way of celebrating survival, of making it through another year. I know I’ve talked about knowing too many people who won’t get to see their 42nd birthday, but it’s true.

Life isn’t something you should ever take for granted. It is a gift. Every day of it is a precious, once-in-a-lifetime gift that will never come again. So live it well.

By the way, I’m still accepting all forms of payment and gifts for said birthday. Just kidding. Sort of.

A Ragamuffin’s Take on the Gospel of John

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As part of a Wednesday night class I’m taking at my church, I read through each of the four gospels, ending up with the Gospel of John this past week.

As I’ve mentioned before, my favorite is the Gospel of Luke because of his attention to detail and his inclusion of those on the fringes of society. But I really, really like John.

To me, the Gospel of John is like an epic movie in the style of a Cecil B. DeMille or a David Lean. Think grand along the lines of a Lawrence of Arabia or Doctor Zhivago.

Of all the gospel writers, John is the most unapologetically apologetic (not in the sense of saying “I’m sorry,” but in the sense of defining and defending the faith). He practically puts his purpose in bold red letters: so that you may believe that Jesus is the promised Messiah and believing, find eternal life in His name.

I like to think of John 1:1-18 as a kind of overture with themes expanded upon in the rest of the book. It’s got Jesus as the incarnate Word coming to pitch His tent among us, rejected by His own, but granting life to those who recognize Who He is and believe.

It has light versus dark, life versus death, righteousness versus sin, ultimate good versus ultimate evil. And in case you’re wondering, good wins.

I love how John’s Gospel is the most love-centered gospel. John even refers to himself as “the beloved disciple” and “the one Jesus loves” because he can’t get over the fact that Jesus could love a hot-headed mess like him.

Ultimately, I love how each gospel writer injects his own personality into the stories and helps draw out different facets about the life and ministry of Jesus. The end result is a very three- (or four-) dimensional portrait of the Messiah.

On a totally random note, I wonder if John read the other Gospels and said something like “Oh, you have the ascension of Jesus in yours? That’s cute. I have the freakin’ vision of Heaven in my book.”

Probably not. But that’s just the way my warped mind works.

I still highly recommend reading through all four Gospels as often as humanly possible. Those books never get old.