grace

God, If You Loved Me . . .

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I think you’ve had prayers that started with “God, if you loved me . . .” I have. I’ve probably prayed variations of that prayer at least a thousand times. Maybe you’ve prayed something like this.

“God, if you loved me, you would have given me a spouse, or at least given me hope for one.”

“God, if you loved me, you would have saved my marriage and kept me from all this pain.”

“God, if you loved me, you could have saved my child and he would still be alive today.”

“God, if you loved me, you could have provided for me and my family to stay in our home and not have to go through the embarrassment of bankrupcy.”

There are probably hundreds of other prayers you and I could think of. Essentially, we pray, “God, if you loved me, you would have come through and not left me alone in this.”

I think maybe if we were silent and still long enough, we might hear this response.

“My child, I do love you. Haven’t you seen countless examples of my blessings and observed times too many to count of my intervention? I do love you.

I love you too much to let you settle for lesser dreams and be satisfied with you-sized goals. I want so much more for you.

I love you too much to let the things in your life possess you instead of you possessing them. I want to teach you how to hold things and people with open hands, because closed hands can’t receive what I have to give you.

You may not always understand my ways. If you did, that would put you above me. But as far as the heavens are above the earth, so are my ways higher than yours.

If you are troubled by what you seem to see of my actions, know that my character is good. Know that I am with you and beside you and in you and for you. Know that my love cannot do anything less than what’s best for you.

Above all, look to the cross where I gave Jesus for you. Jesus was me in your human form, living your life, sharing your sorrows, fulfillling all my requirements, and taking your place in death. You who deserved death get to live and my Son, who had done nothing wrong, died.

Remember that this is a broken world. Remember also that one day I will set all things right. I will restore to you what you have lost a thousand times over. My love for you will triumph against everything that stands against it.

My child, I do love you. Never forget that. I am your Abba and I am very fond of you.”

-God

What Kind of Christian Are You?

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I heard a pastor say that a lot of us are waiting for God to bring His judgment. We have certain people or groups in mind. God owes them what’s coming to them and they should get no mercy, but get the hell they deserve. Yet somehow, a lot of us think that God is obligated to show us mercy.

It could be “those homosexuals” or “those liberals” or “those pacifists” or whatever other group you’re not in. It could be those who struggle with sins that don’t affect us. Our sins are forgiveable, but theirs are not. Or so we think.

But really, who are good Christians and who are bad Christians? And do such distinctions even exist?

I say not. There are no good or bad Christians. There are only lost people who have been found, dead people who are now alive, sinners who deserved condemnation but found grace and mercy. We are all, as one of my favorite writers put it, beggers trying to tell other beggars where to find bread.

In other words, there is no one good enough to earn God’s love. No one who has anything of their own they can bring to God. There is no one that’s too bad to be saved. No one who God has shut off from any possibility of redemption or grace.

I’ve had to change my thinking a lot about “those” people. I may not struggle with the “big” sins, but my sins would have earned me just as much of death and hell as anyone who has ever lived. I needed grace and forgiveness through the blood of Jesus as much as any of “those” people.

A famous newspaper once submitted a question to many leading figures of the day. The question was “What’s wrong with the world today?” A famous writer, G.K. Chesterton had the shortest (and best, I think) reply of them all. He simply replied, “I am.”

One day God will judge the world. Some people will get what they deserve. But the only reason I won’t is because of Zephaniah 1:7. “Quiet now! Reverent silence before me, God, the Master! Time’s up. My Judgment Day is near: The Holy Day is all set, the invited guests made holy.”

In other words, those guests invited to the Kingdom of God aren’t the ones who have the most to offer God or who have the most sterling resumes. They are the ones God has made holy. Because we had no gift to bring, God sent His own Son. Because we had no sacrifice, God Himself became the sacrifice so we could get in.

So instead of choosing who God should judge, maybe we should be thankful and grateful that we’re no longer the ones who will be condemned. Maybe we should love “those” people as much as God loved us and show them as much grace as He showed us. Maybe, just maybe, we could be the the ones to show them how good and great God really is.

Good Driving in the Dark Music

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I was driving home from downtown Franklin again tonight and I had to have the right nighttime driving music. Not just any music will do for me. It has to fit the mood of a summer night with or without the window rolled down (the windows were up tonight because of the humidity).

I went with Gillian Welch’s new album, The Harrow & The Harvest. It’s a wonderful album to play through while driving in the car. It has a deliberately slow and easy gait, a lazy summer day kind of rhythm, to it. The way Gillain and David Rawling’s voices mesh, the way the sparse accompaniment makes the music feel intimate, makes it perfect for driving alone in the dark.

I don’t ususally want fast and loud late at night. I want mellow and subdued. I want pensive, thoughtful lyrics with a sound that calms me down without putting me to sleep.

For me, I’ve found a few albums that qualify. Lori McKenna’s Lorraine, Don McLean’s American Pie, Eastmountainsouth’s self-titled album, or anything by Peter Bradley Adams, Over the Rhine, Gillian Welch or The Sundays will do. There are others, both old and new, that span countless genres. I’m not so much looking for a particular style of music, I just want a kind of mood or feeling from it.

What music brings you home at night? I realize most people probably just let the radio pick their music. Most people probably don’t even pay attention to the music coming from the car speakers. But there are probably a few of you who are more deliberate in your nocturnal musical selections. Like me.

PS I do like listening to Delilah at night. She always had a friendly voice and plays good songs and gives sound advice. Sometimes, though, the drive home needs a soundtrack that is more personal and less top-40 radio-friendly. Like tonight.

PPS Anything by Gillian Welch and/or David Rawlings will do for night driving.

Old Books, Old Friends

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I’ve been re-reading the Chronicles of Narnia over the summer. I think this makes the 15th straight year I’ve read these books, so if you’re counting, that would mean I’m re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-re-reading these books. I think I got vertigo just typing that last sentence.

I’m currently re-reading The Horse and His Boy. I’ve read it so many times I know what’s coming up next and there are very few surprises left. But for me reading a book like that is like going to a favorite vacation spot, one that’s guaranteed to be exactly like you remembered and never change.

I also read The Hobbit, The Lord of the Rings, and The Space Trilogy (another C.S. Lewis set of classics). I’ve seen the movies and I like them all so far, but one of the drawbacks to having read the books so many times is that I can tell if the movies deviate even slightly from the books. Remember me being a book nerd?

I’d like to know what books you read annually. Maybe I’ll find a new one to add to my yearly reading list. I’ll have to have something to take my mind away from the fact that another one of my favorite bookstores, Borders, is going away forever in September. Boo.

I like this ending better than any ending in a book I’ve ever read:

“And for us this is the end of all the stories, and we can most truly say that they all lived happily ever after. But for them it was only the beginning of the real story. All their life in this world and all their adventures in Narnia had only been the cover and the title page: now at last they were beginning Chapter One of the Great Story which no one on earth has read: which goes on for ever: in which every chapter is better than the one before.”

FYI, That’s from The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis the last book in The Chronicles of Narnia.

The Courtroom of Your Life

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I heard a pastor talk about how he has a courtroom in his head, especially after royally screwing up one too many times. He said he used to feel like he was being accused and felt like he had no one to defend him. But someone pointed out to him that he does.

Who is the one who accuses? Is it Jesus? Is it you? According to the Bible, the name Satan means “accuser.” He is the one who accuses the brethren, who brings up charges against you, sometimes true, sometimes not. As he accused Job before God, he now accuses you.

But the best part of this courtroom drama is that you have an advocate. You have One who sits at the right hand of the Father and makes intercession for you. The God-man, Jesus, looks at the charges brought against you and looks at the Judge and looks at you and says, “This one’s mine. I died for him (or her). I paid for what this person has done wrong.”

Don’t ever confuse your accuser. It’s only Satan who accuses and it’s only Jesus who defends and speaks for you. He more than anyone else– even you– knows everything you’ve done, all the lies you’ve spoken, all the temptations you’ve succumbed to, all the promises you’ve broken, all the ways you’ve hurt yourself, others, and God. If anyone had a right to condemn you, it would be Jesus.

Yet Jesus has no condemnation in His eyes toward you. He speaks for you. He is for you. He loves you with a wild, untamed, crazy love that won’t ever stop transforming you until you are all that God made you to be. A love that won’t let you go.

When my own heart condemns me, God is greater than that. His mercy and grace trump any self-accusation or self-incrimination. His word to you tonight is this: “Child, I am your Abba, and I am very fond of you. Live in that and believe that and live out of that.

Hear these words: “With the arrival of Jesus, the Messiah, that fateful dilemma is resolved. Those who enter into Christ’s being-here-for-us no longer have to live under a continuous, low-lying black cloud. A new power is in operation. The Spirit of life in Christ, like a strong wind, has magnificently cleared the air, freeing you from a fated lifetime of brutal tyranny at the hands of sin and death” (Romans 8:1-2, The Message).

No more condemnation. Ever. Only love.

My Idea of Heaven

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Imagine you’re walking down a lonely country road. The sun is dissolving into the east and gentle breezes are playing with your senses. You look to your left and there’s a gate framed by two stone posts. You enter.

You find yourself walking down a long gravel road and the only sounds you hear are the rocks crunching underneath your feet and the distant cry of crickets. On both sides are a forest of ancient trees with memories of many generations passed. Trees that stood long before the fathers of your fathers were born.

To your right, you see a clearing. In the clearing are old-fashioned folding chairs set up in a circle. As you walk toward the gathering, you hear the soft murmuring of voices. You realize you are not alone.

You step into the circle and the voices hush. They are all looking at you. You see familiar faces of people you have loved and lost, parents and grandparents, cousins, uncles and aunts, and sons and daughters. Only now they are no longer broken and frail and sick, but whole and strong and well, the way you remember them in the best of times.

Each one of them calls you by name. Even the ones who had forgotten now remember your name. It’s not the name you’ve taken for yourself or the one you had given to you at birth. It is a new name, yet it’s a familiar name that you’ve known all the time.

In the middle of the gathering stands a man with scars in His hands and feet. Though He looks far different than any painting or image of Him ever made, you know His face at once. The lovingkindness there is unmistakable.

You hear singing and realize that those around you are singing a hymn. You find yourself singing, too. It’s not a song you’ve ever sung before, but you know the words and the melody stirs within you at once a joy too full and a sorrow too deep for words. You feel alive as if for the first time and happy and content like you always longed to be.

You know this is home. This place that you’ve never been or ever even seen before, but the one you’ve been looking for your whole life without knowing it. This is home. This is my idea of heaven. Maybe not for you, but it works for me.

Going to Church vs. Being the Church

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As a kid, I went to church. Not much of an option there, really. My mother didn’t ask me if I felt like going, but told me we were going. After all, we’re Baptists. That’s what we do.

For most of my life, I talked about “going to church” as if church were a building or a place or an event.  In fact, until very recently. Then I noticed something in the New Testament. Nowhere in there does anyone talk about going to church or referring to church as a building or an organization. Churches in the New Testament always refer to a community of believers. A family.

If I go to church, then church is something I do once or twice a week (three or more if you’re a really good Baptist!) I will act and think differently when I’m in church than when I’m not.

But if I’m reading my Bible right and I am a part of the community called the Church, then I take the Church with me wherever I go. I am never not “in church.” That means that I act and think the same way all the time.

It amazed me that ever since I’ve picked up on this, I hear people all the time talk about Church as if it were a place or a building or a service. I hear myself talking about “going to church.” I guess it’s a part of the culture I grew up in. That many of us grew up in.

It’s not a sin to say “going to church.” But if we really believe what’s in God’s word, then maybe it’s time to shift our thinking and stop going to church and start being the church. Maybe we need to break out of the four walls of church buildings and start taking the Church, the koinonia or “the community”, everywhere we go.

A pastor I heard today said something like this: “What frustrates the world is not that we’re different, but that we’re not different enough.”  Maybe when the Church starts acting like the body of Christ, the hands and feet of Jesus, and not like brick and stone and mortar, they will start seeing the difference.

Another thing that irks me is the term “business meeting.” The church is not a business; it’s a family. But that is another topic for another blog someday.

Discovery

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I think I’ve established the fact over the course of the last year that I am one big music/movie/book nerd. I love me some good media. I think I could live at a bookstore like Borders, as long as I had a comfy hammock or sleeping back and a Chik-fil-a nearby.

I also love discovering new things. All the time at restaurants I am trying out new foods and new food combinations. One of my favorite things is to find a new author or artist that few people know about, one that hasn’t yet caught on or one that didn’t quite get there.

My latest musical find is a folk-duo group called The Story. They are (or were) Jonatha Brooke and Jennifer Kimball. Both have since gone on to more successful solo careers. I also really like The Sundays, a British group that probably very few have ever heard of.

There’s something grand about discovering new things. I think the life of faith is like that. Every morning are undiscovered new mercies and graces and fresh starts. Every moment is a potential do-over and a clean slate. There is no failure or even fiasco that God can’t turn into something glorious and victorious. Even you and me.

I am thankful for a God who doesn’t keep score or maintain a record of wrongs and broken promises and failed attemps at obedience. I’d be seriously screwed.

I’ve said it before many times, but I really love the fact that God looks at me and sees Jesus and is pleased. He not only loves me, but likes me, too! He’s not angry or disappointed or frustrated. He’s not about to give up on me (or you).

What would it be like if you and I could discover one new facet about the mercy, grace, and love of God every day? I don’t know how long it would take, but I’m sure it would be longer than the Oliver Stone’s director’s cut of JFK. I imagine it would take an eternity.

I guess it’s a really good thing we will have an eternity to find out, eh?

A Borrowed Prayer

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“Dear God,
I am so afraid to open my clenched fists!
Who will I be when I have nothing left to hold on to?
Who will I be when I stand before you with empty hands?
Please help me to gradually open my hands
and to discover that I am not what I own,
but what you want to give me.
And what you want to give me is love,
unconditional, everlasting love.
Amen.” (Henri Nouwen).

Lord, when will we be able to let go of rule-keeping and sin-management and live in Your free and abundant grace? When will we stop condemning the sins in others that we don’t struggle with and admit that we ourselves are always in need of grace and forgiveness? When will we realize that the greatest power for change is not in picket signs or persuasive arguments or correct morality, but in full-on, unconditional, unlimited agape love?

Lord, You have told us that because of Jesus You are pleased with us. You have told us that You love us and even like us just as we are in all our unholy mess. You said You would keep loving us until all that is unlovely in us is gone and only what is lovely, what is pure, what is worthwhile, will remain. In other words, until all that is in us is You.

Help us to believe. Help us to remind each other of Your grace and be living examples of what that grace can do. Lord, I don’t think the world needs another person telling them what’s wrong with them and with the world. They don’t need to be told how they will bust hell wide open.

They need to be told that You can save them. They need to know it’s never too late to turn away from futile and empty lives and find all the beauty and joy and contentment and peace they could ever hold (and then some) in You. They need to know You will find them and rescue them and never let go. Ever.

Help me to live in a way that shows them how good and great You are. Help us all to live that way. May our lives be the prayers that you answer to bring the lost sheep home. Help us to be honest and broken and messed-up and crazy and willing to go wherever you lead. May we remember that the gospel is, after all, good news. Not more rules to follow or guidelines to live by, but the announcement that the debt has already been paid and the righteous requirements met and the victory won.

That’s the gospel. That’s good news. That’s grace.

The 10-Year Old’s Fantasy

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I think there’s some part of me that’s still 10-years old. That kid still believes that all his friends will always be his friends and their parents will never grow old or get sick and die.

He thinks that pets stay young and healthy forever and all kids are safe and secure with good parents and good homes. He thinks all his favorite places will always stay exactly the way he remembers them. He thinks that the world is exciting and never dangerous, and that life always has a happy ending and the good guys always win.

I know better. A friend of mine whose daughter I went to church and school with said goodbye to his wife for the last time this side of heaven today. I know I’ve said goodbye too many times already.

The world is not safe. Many kids don’t have good parents or good homes. In fact, they are probably in the most danger in their homes. Many children die from starvation and preventable diseases. Many lives do not have happy endings. And sometimes it seems the wrong side is winning.

But the 10-year old in me still thinks there is still beauty and joy around every corner. He thinks that ultimately good wins and all those who said their goodbyes will one day be able to say their hellos again. That lost doesn’t mean gone. It just means “see you later.” The grown-up me agrees.

There’s a lot about life I don’t understand. There’s a lot I wish I could fix– loved ones I wish I could bring back to their spouses, their children, and their parents. Even pets I could make come back.

I wish I could ensure that every child ever born a good home and a loving family and enough to eat. That every child gets to grow up in wonder at the world and grow old and get a happily ever after. I can’t.

But my God makes all things new. My God will restore the years that the locusts have taken, what disease and old age and tragedy have stolen. My God will give back a thousand times what we have lost. My God will wipe away every tear from our eyes. My God wins and we win, too.

That’s my true myth. My real-life fairy tale. My “too good to be true but also too good not to be” story. My happily ever after.