For some odd reason, I was reminded today of when I worked at a church back in the day and put together their bulletins. Apparently, some of the older members would get there early and grab a bulletin and comb it over looking for errors and mistakes.

Usually, I did good. Once though, I was supposed to put “in honor of” a certain beloved former pastor and I put “in memory of” instead. Oops. I can imagine him uttering the infamous line from Monty Python and the Holy Grail  “I’m not dead yet. . . . I feel happy!” (5 of you just got that last joke and the rest are thinking I’ve gone daft).

I think sometimes churchgoers are that way. They will comb your life and look for the least little mistakes to hold over you. A lot of us see God the same way, as the Supreme Micromanager, looking for what we’ve done wrong over the course of the past 24 hours to punish us.

I have very good news. God is not like that at all. I’m thinking of all the times I’ve screwed up in the last hour and that alone would probably fill up a couple of pages in God’s celestial diary.

No, when God looks at me, He sees what Jesus did for me and how He took all my mistakes, screw-ups, and sins and paid for them. God looks at me and sees Jesus’ perfection and is pleased.

The point is that none of us can look at anyone else’s mistakes with a judgmental heart because we only have to look in the mirror to see the guiltiest party. There’s a verse that says that if God counted our sins against us, who could stand? If God were as critical with us as we are with each other, no one would be alive.

So, just as God showed us mercy, we should probably show each other a little more mercy and grace. We should forgive because we always stand in need of forgiveness ourselves. And most of all, cut yourself a little slack. God knows you’re weak and stumbling and He loves you anyway. And if He can love you, why shoudn’t you?

For your added reading pleasure, here are a few of the more humorous bulletin bloopers. http://www.bible-reading.com/bulletin.html

I can imagine that when I get to heaven, if God were to ask me one question, what that question would be.

It probably wouldn’t be any of these:

Did you hate all the right people and tell them I hated them, too? Did you do your best to make them feel excluded and left out?

Did you vote for the correct people who had all the right stances on the political and social issues?

Did you have the right millennial view of the tribulation and rapture?

I seriously doubt God would ask any of these. If He were to ask anything, it would be something like this:

Did you love the people I sent into your path, regardless of if their lifestyle and beliefs matched yours? Regardless of whether they were easy to love or if they loved you back?

Furthermore, did you demonstrate My love for them? Did you represent Me as a god who hates all the people you do or as a God who is bigger than you and your likes and dislikes?

In the end, what will truly matter is not how much money we made or how much we accomplished or even how correct all our doctrines were.

What will count in the end is how much and how well we loved. Not just the ones like us who voted like us and held our values and looked like us.

But God will look at how we loved our enemies and those who slandered and persecuted us. He will look at how we loved the outcasts and the marginalized and the downtrodden.

I know that I don’t have anywhere near the capacity to love like that. If I’m honest, I really don’t have the capacity to love at all.

But the good news as I was reminded today is that not only did Jesus die for me, but Jesus lives for me. Jesus lives in me and can love through me way better than I could ever love.

That’s what I’m praying for you and for me. That we will be willing to show and share the love of Jesus with all those God puts in our path. That we will show them how great God is and how wonderful Jesus is.

 

 

 

In view of the recent trial and acquittal of Casey Anthony, I’ve been thinking a lot about her and her deceased daughter. Honestly, I don’t know whether the outcome was the right one or not.

I do know that it’s easy to look at all the evidence and see where blame falls Casey. There are too many inconsistancies in her story, too many points that are unexplainable, too much behavior on her part that is inexcusable.

If she were truly and completely innocent, would she have acted differently? Would she have contacted the police sooner? I think so. Her actions are not the actions of an innocent mother.

So I pick up a stone. Lots of people probably would, given the opportunity. Mostly what I hear in conversations about her is judgment and condemnation. She deserved to go to jail for a very long time for what she did and how she lied about what she did. Maybe.

I do remember another story about a woman caught red-handed in the very act of adultery. I remember people standing around her with stones, ready to cast them and fully justified in doing so.

I remember the words of Jesus. “Let him who is without sin cast the first stone.” So I look at the stone in my own hand and remember my sins. I look at what I could have been apart from the grace of God– something so much worse than Casey Anthony ever thought about being.

I remember that when it came time for judgment, I received mercy instead. I recall the man Jesus hanging on the cross that should have been mine. I remember He died so that I could go free, declared innocent and justified. Just as if I’d never sinned at all.

So how can I throw any stones? I can’t. I can grieve for the tragic loss of a little girl. I can weep at so much brokenness and shame and secrets and dysfunction.

I can pray for the soul of Casey Anthony. Maybe she can find forgiveness and mercy in the embrace of the Savior. It wouldn’t be the first time a murderer has found grace. Remember the thief on the cross? Remember the apostle Paul?

I truly do hope that justice comes for the little girl. I also hope that mercy comes, too. And grace. Because I know that I need grace just as much as Casey Anthony does. So do you, if you’re honest. We all do.

I have yet another confession to make. I am not cool. Sometimes I can fool myself into thinking I am, but that erroneous thinking gets corrected in a hurry. Like when I try to say something ultra-hip, people look at me like I have a third eye.

I am not trendy and I am not that person everyone wants to know and hang out with. I’m just not. And the most shocking confession of all? I don’t care. I don’t want it. I’m not interested anymore.

It seems like being cool is a lot of hard work. You have to keep up with the latest fashions and trends and practice constant vigilance. I’d rather watch old TV shows and take naps and wear what’s comfortable.

A word of warning to the hipper than thous. The more current and trendy you are now, the more likely you will look back at yourself ten years from now and say something like, “What was I thinking? Why didn’t someone tell me I dressed like a hobo?”

Better yet, those pictures of you now will provide hours of unintentional comic relief for your kids. They will look at the facebook photos of you and laugh and think you were such a dork back when.

I’m more interested in one trend– being myself. I’d rather be me with one or two friends than be a phony for hundreds. I realize some people are better socially gifted than I am, and that’s fine for them. I am just not.

I manage to avoid the major fashion pitfalls, like black socks with sandals and shorts pulled up to my Adam’s apple, but beyond that, I like what I like.

My sage advice? Don’t let anyone else tell you who you should be, what you should wear, who you should like, what you should eat, etc. Do what you like.

Be who God made you to be. Believe that God is your biggest fan and roots for you and likes you for you. And most of all, relax. Most of what you’re so stressed about 1) won’t ever happen, 2) won’t be nearly as bad as you fear it will be, 3) won’t be the end of the world, and 4) isn’t remotely difficult for God to get you through.

That’s all. Good night.

I’ve been in the process of going through my vast music collection and designating some of my CDs for either donation to Goodwill or trading at McKay’s. Among those I picked to go was an old Rhett Miller CD.

I had convinced myself that I only liked one song on the whole album and to keep a CD for one song wasn’t worth it. Then I had the brilliant idea of giving the CD a go in my car CD player.

I was surprised in a good way. I really liked what I heard, and not just the one song. Rhett has been saved from the musical trash heap.

I’ve done that with other things, too. I’ve done that with people. There have been people who at first rubbed me the wrong way. My first impression was not a favorable one. Thankfully, it was also a false one.

Some of the best people I know were those who I didn’t like at first. Maybe they changed. Maybe I did. Or maybe I finally had a chance to really see the person for who they were and not who I needed or wanted them to be.

The point of all this pontification is that we shouldn’t give up so easily on people. For me, I think I should be as willing to give up on someone as God was to give up on me.

I’ve had some people write me off in the past. I’m sure you have, too. I may have given up on some people too soon. So many of us have written ourselves off. I’ve even come perilously close to giving up on God.

The good news is that God’s not about to give up on me or you. God won’t write us off. In fact, God has us written on His heart. God has a white tablet with our new names written on it. That sounds pretty permanent to me.

As for that Goodwill collection, one day it will acutally make it to Goodwill. Maybe before CDs go obsolete. But you and I will never lose our value or worth because God won’t change His mind about how He feels about us.

That’s a good thing.

Life is what happens when you’re busy making other plans. So goes the old saying. Like tonight when I was deep in thought and wasn’t paying attention and walked into a wall. I like to think I was providing unintentional comedic relief.

But truly, the best moments are ususally the ones you don’t plan or expect. Like when I went tonight expecting a Bible Study on Romans, but got good conversation instead about life. Or the moments when you just decide spontaneously to take a walk at night.

I think the great theologian Ferris Bueller was right. Life moves pretty fast. If you don’t stop every once in a while and look around, you could miss it. If you are so busy “getting things done” and “keeping your schedule,” you could wind up looking back on your life and wondering where it went.

I am more and more conviced that life is about people and relationships and conversations and walking though joy and sorrow together. I have  yet to hear of someone on their deathbed say anything close to “I wish I could have spent more time at the office” or “I really wish I could have gotten more things done.” The regret is always not spending enough time with those you love.

Why wait until you’re dying to get perspective? Why not live each day like it could be your last and do what you would do then? Why not make your focus on people and creating memories instead of a checklist that will never ever be done. No matter how much you do or how much you work, you can always do more. But you miss so much that way.

Maybe you’ll say I’m not motivated enough. Maybe you’re right. But I don’t want to get to the end of my life and find out that I was so busy trying to do God’s work that I missed God’s heart. I don’t want to get to the end only to wish I could go back for a do-over when it’s too late.

It’s good and wise to make plans and have goals. It’s also a good thing to keep your eyes and ears open and be willing to leave some things undone every now and then. Leave room in your life for living. And naps and concerts and sunsets. And always when the opportunity presents, take the chocolate.

“Just because something is technically legal doesn’t mean that it’s spiritually appropriate. If I went around doing whatever I thought I could get by with, I’d be a slave to my whims” (1 Cor. 6:12).

I am the first to admit that I am a recovering Pharisee. Even now, I get a certain perverse thrill when a pastor speaks on a vice that doesn’t apply to me. I can visualize people I think that really need to hear the message and oftentimes miss out on the real point entirely. That almost happened tonight.

As a Christian freed from the law, I have liberty to do certain things. I even have rights. I could partake of the occasional glass of wine or beer if I wanted. I don’t, but only because I don’t prefer the taste and because alcoholism is on both sides of my family.

I could probably do a lot of things and say a lot of things and be perfectly within my rights. But would I be within the parameters of true love? The kind that Jesus showed? Here’s a few things I’ve figured out.

If I really have the love of Jesus, I won’t demand my rights all the time. If fact, true love shows itself best when I lay down my rights for another. My insistance on always having my rights shows that I am not loving like Jesus did.

Jesus, according to Phillipians 2:5-11, had all the rights and privileges of being equal with God. If anyone could have insisted on rights, He could. Instead, He emptied Himself of those rights and privilges and took on the form of a slave. And not just a slave, but a slave who was willing to die in the most humiliating and excrutiating way possible on a Roman cross.

Love doesn’t say, “What are my rights and what can I get away with?” but “What can I give up to make the other person better?” Ultimately, love asks, “How can I show Jesus to people in such a way that they will be drawn to His love the way I was?” and “How can I make the name of Jesus look as great and glorious as possible?”

So, love trumps my rights. Love trumps my own ego. Love trumps hate and evil and everything else that stands up against it. Look at that cross and see the ultimate triumph of Love.

I hope you and I will. Daily.

I am admittedly a movie geek. That’s why when I got a chance to see To Kill a Mockingbird at a restored old movie theatre in historic downtown Franklin, I jumped at the chance. I probably slobbered all over myself, too. I love old movies like that.

I love the character of Atticus Finch. He’s the father everyone wishes they had, even those with good fathers. In the movie, he defends a black man accused of raping a white woman. The outcome of the case is a foregone conclusion in this small southern town, but Atticus Finch presents a solid defence anyway.

I love that because I love the idea of someone being a champion for the lost causes. I love the idea of people who will speak out for those who have no voice, whether it’s the unborn in America or children of Muslim women in Afghanistan. Whether it’s the dying lepers in India who just want to die with dignity or the AIDS patients here who need to know that someone really loves them.

Jesus was that kind of champion. He spoke for the widow and the orphan, He defended the defenseless, and He chose the outcasts and nobodies to be His followers. He said those who were spiritually poor, those who hungered and thirsted for God, those who mourned, those were the blessed ones, because they got God and the Kingdom.

I think the world needs more of those kind of heroes. It needs those who will stand up for the orphans and the widows and the forsaken and the outcast. It needs someone who will fight for the rights of the enemy and love those who hate them, as Jesus did. The Jesus who laid down His life for us when we were God’s enemies and opposed to everything He stands for.

In God’s perspective, there are no lost causes and no one beyond hope of salvation. Maybe when we start seeing through His eyes, we will learn to cherish and love what God loves and have His heart for those who have no one else who loves and looks after them.

That’s what I want. I hope you want it, too.

I learned about Thomas Jefferson in school. I know he’s on the nickel, which is better than old Abraham Lincoln, who had the misfortune to get stuck on the penny. I also know Jefferson had some crazy weird theology.

Jefferson was a deist. He took his Bible and if he found any passage about the supernatural or the miraculous, he’d cut it out. Literally, he’d take scissors and snip that section out. The result was a very hole-y Bible. And yep, I just went there with that terrible pun.

But before we cast stones (or nickels) at the man, let’s examine how you or I might do the same.

Those Old Testament passages on the wrath of God? You know, the ones where He orders the Israelites to wipe out their enemy completely, including women and children? Nope, don’t like that. It doesn’t fit my image of a loving God. Snip, snip.

The passages that talk about how God is completely sovereign over His creation, including salvation? Definitely don’t like the way that messes with my free will. Snip, snip.

The verses that talk about how Jesus will say to the ones with the impressive religious resume, “Depart from me. I never knew you”? Nope. Snip, snip.

All the verses that speak to how Jesus is not after religion or performance or a better morality? The ones where we find out that we get to God only through grace and not through doing the right things and saying all the right words? Those are much too scandalous. Rules are safe, freedom is not. Snip, snip.

Personally, if I had written the Bible, I would have left out several parts, particularly the one about how Lot’s daughters got him drunk and seduced him. That’s just creepy. And the one about putting out your eye or cutting off your han rather than your whole body going to hell. I would not have put that in there.

Those and many other parts of the Bible would not have been in my version of the Bible (which would have been called the GJV). My Bible would have been much shorter and had better pictures in it. And lots more maps, ’cause who doesn’t like lots of maps?

In the end, the Bible is above what I or you or anybody else thinks about it. Every word of it is inspired, even the words that aren’t as comforting and cuddly as the ones that begin with words like “Come to me, all who labor . . .” Our job isn’t to decide what we will read and believe and apply and obey. We don’t get to choose which parts were only kinda inspired and which parts were really, really inspired (like those words in red).

God has given us Letters from Home and we get to see His heart in those Letters. We see that He is not like us, only bigger, better, faster, and stronger. He is totally Other and His thoughts and ways are completely beyond and above our thoughts and ways.

Still He has chosen to reveal Himself to us and make Himself known through Scripture. All of it. Next time you read a passage that doesn’t seem to gel with your idea of God, keep it in context and keep the big picture in mind. God is good and His promises are sure and in the end, we win.

I should know. I’ve read the ending. I hope you have, too.