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.

Hi, my name is Greg, and I’m addicted to Facebook. Sometimes, I spend time reading other people’s status updates. The really sad part is that sometimes I sit in front of my computer waiting for responses and likes to my posts and blogs. That’s me, the social wonder of the world.

I do think Facebook is good for some things. You can reconnect with old friends and keep in touch with them and catch up. You can reminisce about old times. Facebook is a great way to find out about what’s going on around you and to find out how to pray for each other.

Then again, Facebook can be a place to hide. You get to select what you want people to see of you, whether it be your privacy settings or what you post and comment on. You choose how people will see you, whether it be someone who’s into the party scene and the night life or someone who’s into books and movies.

You can be as fake as you want on facebook and no one will know. Well, God will know, but that’s kind of a given. You can present a self who’s got it all together and has life figured out and knows where they’re going. You can be that poster child for the American dream.

Or you can be real. You can admit that you’re far from having anything figured out. You can confess that most of the time you really don’t know what you’re doing. You can belong to the fellowship of the broken, the outcast, the needy, the ashamed, and the lost.

It’s really okay to share your weaknesses, because when you do, there are probably ten others out there who will be able to let go of the lie that they are the only one who struggles with that issue. You tell them that no one is perfect, no one has life under control, no one can say they have arrived. We are all fallen and messed up and we all need God.

It’s also okay to be goofy. It’s okay to post random stupid, silly stuff on facebook. Just remember that among those who read your post could be a potential future employer or even a potential future spouse. You never know.

I for one am going to keep being real and keep being goofy. It may not be popular, but it’s who I am. I am going to be a part of the chain on facebook that passes along love, grace, mercy, and forgiveness whenever possible.

I hope you will, too.