Broken and Spilled Out

I think every single believer will at some point go through a breaking process. It will feel like our lives have been irreparably shattered into a million little pieces that can never be put back together in any semblance of order. It will feel like the end, but for God it will only just be the beginning.

To be broken means that God can use our lives, our very selves, to minister to many more than we could have dreamed of had we remained whole. Most likely, we would have remained self-reliant, self-seeking, self-focused, never really acknowledging our deep need for God.

To be broken is to come to the place where the only way you can look is up. And that’s where you find God and realize He’s the one who was looking for you first. He’s the one who made the first move to make you right with Him. You only chose God because He chose you first.

The beautiful part with God’s blessings in terms of baskets of bread and fish is that there is always more than enough. There will always be an overabundance. Not only did all the 5,000 (and with the addition of women and children closer to 15,000 or more) get fully satisfied with food, but there were twelve baskets left over, one for each disciple. One tangible reminder of God’s more-than-enough favor for each of those disciples to carry with him.

Remember your life is being broken for a purpose beyond yourself and anything you could dream or imagine. God is up to something good.

Advent Thoughts in April

“God travels wonderful ways with human beings, but he does not comply with the views and opinions of people. God does not go the way that people want to prescribe for him; rather, his way is beyond all comprehension, free and self-determined beyond all proof. Where reason is indignant, where our nature rebels, where our piety anxiously keeps us away: that is precisely where God loves to be. There he confounds the reason of the reasonable; there he aggravates our nature, our piety—that is where he wants to be, and no one can keep him from it. Only the humble believe him and rejoice that God is so free and so marvelous that he does wonders where people despair, that he takes what is little and lowly and makes it marvelous. And that is the wonder of all wonders, that God loves the lowly…. God is not ashamed of the lowliness of human beings. God marches right in. He chooses people as his instruments and performs his wonders where one would least expect them. God is near to lowliness; he loves the lost, the neglected, the unseemly, the excluded, the weak and broken” (Dietrich BonhoefferGod Is in the Manger: Reflections on Advent and Christmas).

Ok, so I goofed. I meant to type in Lent quotes, but reverted to Advent quotes instead. Blame it on the lack of sleep. But this one applies not only for Advent season but for all seasons in which we feel excluded or weak or broken.

There is never a time when God is not the Emmanuel, God with us.

 

A Borrowed Post for This March 17

It is St. Patrick’s Day. I dutifully wore green and ate my corned beef and cabbage. I also watched Edward Scissorhands again (which really has nothing to do with St. Patrick’s Day or what comes next but is still one of my favorite movies).

I thought I’d share what I read this morning that spoke to me about the fellowship of the wounded and broken:

“Some of us tend to do away with things that are slightly damaged. Instead of repairing them we say: “Well, I don’t have time to fix it, I might as well throw it in the garbage can and buy a new one.” Often we also treat people this way. We say: “Well, he has a problem with drinking; well, she is quite depressed; well, they have mismanaged their business…we’d better not take the risk of working with them.” When we dismiss people out of hand because of their apparent woundedness, we stunt their lives by ignoring their gifts, which are often buried in their wounds.

We all are bruised reeds, whether our bruises are visible or not. The compassionate life is the life in which we believe that strength is hidden in weakness and that true community is a fellowship of the weak” (Henri Nouwen).

What do we do with those whose brokenness is more apparent than ours? How do we treat those who are less adept at hiding their weaknesses and failures?

I still love that Jesus didn’t just tolerate those who were outcast and broken. He often went out of HIs way to find them and bring them into His community. He laid hands on the lepers and spoke to the unmentionables. He loved those who couldn’t even love themselves, much less anybody else.

I still believe that these accounts of Jesus’ aren’t just for a lovely bedtime story or only to stir up sentimental feelings. It’s the ultimate example for all who follow after. It’s a blueprint for how to love those same people in our own lives.

Is it even possible? Not in my own strength. Not in yours.

It is only possible when we have fully received and embraced that same love for ourselves, acknowledging that we ourselves are broken and wounded. Only then can we truly love others in the unconditional way of Jesus’.

 

 

Jesus Sees You

Tonight at Kairos, Mike Glenn talked about wee little Zaccheus and how he climbed up a wee little sycamore tree to see Jesus. Or maybe for Jesus to see him.

How many of us long to be seen and noticed by others? How many yearn for someone to say, “I see you. I see your struggles and victories, scars and joys. You are not invisible.”

Jesus saw Zaccheus. Not as the tax-collector who cheated people for extra profits, but as a broken man needing to be noticed. As someone who was lost and needed finding.

Jesus sees you. He doesn’t see your job title (or lack of one). He doesn’t see your impressive resume of mistakes and fiascos. He sees you.

He sees a broken person who’s tried every kind of piece to fill in the gap. He sees someone who holds the weight of the world on his mind and on his shoulders. He sees someone who yearns for love but doesn’t quite know how to ask for it.

He sees you.

Best of all, He sees the best possible you, the you that not even you can see. It’s the you that God always meant for you to be, your absolute best self when you look most like Jesus and feel most alive.

Jesus asked Zaccheus to come down out of his tree. He didn’t demand it. He didn’t force Zaccheus down. He asked.

If Zaccheus had refused Jesus’ offer, Jesus probably would have moved on and Zaccheus would have missed out on what he was looking for.

Sometimes, it takes you climbing down out of your tree, your self-imposed barrier to everything that’s hurt you and made you feel like less. Sometimes, you have to walk away from everything that’s comfortable to follow Jesus.

But it’s always worth it. Because Jesus not only knows and sees the real you, He will tell you who you really are. He will show you. And He will transform you.

That’s great news for all the Zaccheuses out there. Including me.

 

God of Wonders: Thoughts on Community

It’s amazing what true community will do for the weary and heavy-laden. Or just those who are in need of a nap.

My community group met again, and it was good. We started our study of Philippians, focusing on the first twelve verses.

For me, the best part was afterwards. I can’t really point to any one moment as extra magical, but it was really just the five of us sharing life together. One of the bright moments that I do recall is one of the girls breaking out the guitar and leading us in the oldie but goodie, God of Wonders.

Community doesn’t have to be earth-shattering or ground-breaking (or any of those other tried and true cliches). It can mean sharing the small moments of life together. It can be me saying to you, “I see you and I’m a witness to the fact that you’re not in this alone. I’m with you.”

Sometimes, that’s all we need– just a voice that says, “No, you’re not the only one who struggles with fear and doubt. No, you’re not weird or crazy. Yes, you will get through this. Yes, we will be with you.”

If you find a group of people who will let you be yourself, warts and all, you have truly found a blessing. It may not always look pretty, but then again, those healing moments never are. What we need most is quite honestly a lot less pleasant that what we’d like. But you’re never broken, you can never be truly whole.

My goal is to lead my own group soon. Hopefully sooner than later. But for now I’m enjoying being a part of a group where the leader sets the example of authenticity and honesty better than just about anybody I’ve seen. Thanks, David. Also, thanks to Jeff, Abbey, and Paige for making me feel so welcome.

The end.

 

 

Mosaic

christ-mosaic

I had an epiphany of sorts today. It started at Kairos when Mike Glenn spoke about how the Church has been at times on the wrong side of race relations and how 11 am on Sunday is still the most segregated hour in this country.

I thought of a mosaic. Or you can substitute a stained glass window if you want.

How boring would it be if every single piece was the same color? The same shape?

What if every single person were exactly like me? Just a lot of carbon copies of Greg running amuck? That’s a scary thought.

Like Mike Glenn said, you’re not wrong, just different. You’re you, unlike anybody else who has ever lived. And that’s a good thing.

I’m personally glad that not everybody looks or talks or thinks like me. Even if some of those people do and say things that I don’t agree with.

I believe it’s wrong to look down on someone because he or she is different. That means different race, different body shape, different upbringing, etc.

It’s easy for me to criticize someone who sins differently than I do. It’s easy for me to crusade against those vices I don’t struggle with.

But God loves all these people. Even the people I have the hardest time loving. Even those who have the hardest time loving me.

I think everybody discriminates against something. It’s the old sin nature in all of us, the part that was broken by the fall. But Jesus’ love is powerful enough to make the brokenness whole again and to make us new creations who can learn to love all those He loves the way He loves.

Keep Calm and Drink Coffee

image

Well, it’s Friday. I’m currently house- and dog-sitting for a very well-behaved and gentle dog named Millie.

I’m also reading a very interesting book written by a lady with autism. It’s fascinating to see her thought processes and hear how she sees the world differently than I. It’s also amazing to see how she has basically taught herself how to overcome most of her autistic tendencies.

I still think that ALL of us at some level are fundamentally broken. We all have some kind of phobias or issues that keep us from always acting normal. Some are better at hiding it than others, but it doesn’t change the fact that they are just as broken as the rest of us.

I’m so very glad Jesus didn’t come for the healthy. He came for the sick. The destitute. The abused. The abuser. The lonely. The broken. Us.

In those moments when you feel like you will never be normal and accepted, remember that Jesus doesn’t think you’re normal. He thinks you’re extraordinary.

Old Movies and Theology

boys_town_tracy_1

I just watched an old movie. Surprise.

I saw Boys Town, a 1938 movie starring Spencer Tracy and Mickey Rooney. It was definitely a feel-good movie, though it didn’t start out that way. I believe it was based on the true story of the founding of Boys Town.

The point of the movie is that Father Flanagan was trying to help boys who didn’t have mothers or fathers to look after them, who would otherwise end up on the streets and involved in crime. He wanted them to learn how to live as decent citizens and decent human beings.

I think we sometimes are quick to judge those who act differently than we do. Or maybe whose sins are different than ours. It’s very easy to condemn someone who struggles with an addiction or issue that we don’t struggle with.

But maybe what people need isn’t to hear how they’ve messed up and are headed down the wrong path. They probably figured that one out already. Maybe what people need is to know that someone out there knows and cares about them. That maybe, just maybe, they can change.

That’s what the Gospel really is. We like to harp on the sin part sometimes and maybe get a little too much satisfaction from telling people how bad they are, how they’re sinners headed straight to hell. Maybe we need to emphasize that it doesn’t have to be that way. Maybe we need to point out that God loved the world so much that He gave Jesus so that it wouldn’t have to be  that way.

Jesus didn’t come to tell good people how good they were. He didn’t come to make healthy people feel good about their health. He came for the bad, the messed up, the sick, the broken. Which by the way means all of us.

Before you write off someone else, remember who you used to be. Who you might still have been but for the grace of God. That just might make all the difference in the world. In that person’s world.

 

Parable of the Good Person

image

Once upon a time there was a good person. Or at least he thought so.

He determined in his own mind to set out on a quest to find inner peace and began the arduous journey toward his goal.

He chanted, he fasted, he burned incense, he meditated, and he prayed. He went on pilgrimages. He gave up red meat and gluten. Later, he became a vegan, even though he loved him some steak and potatoes.

He helped old ladies across the street and rescued kittens from trees and paid his taxes like a good citizen. He even volunteered at the library.

But no matter how much he did, it never felt like enough. He never could seem to fund that elusive peace he was so desperately seeking.

Then he had an epiphany. He realized he was not a good person. He understood that he was fundamentally flawed and broken person whose good intentions never hit their marks.

He discovered that there is only One who is good, One who once came down to live among people just like him. One who did everything right and lived the perfect life that this good person could not.

He grasped that this One, Jesus, had died for him not when he was a good person, but when he was at his worst, when he was against everything Jesus stood for.

He called out to this Jesus and asked Him to save him and do for him what he could never do for himself. He confessed that he was really and truly a not-good person.

Now he has peace. He still has bad days and even bad weeks. He still has good intentions that fall short. He can even be grumpy at times. But he also has Jesus.

And that is enough.

I Like Big Books and I Cannot Lie

image

As you probably already know from reading earlier posts, I have quite the collection of Bibles. I don’t mean on my iPhone or iPad, either (although I do have TWO Bible apps with a plethora of translations between them). I mean actual Bibles.

I have a 1611 facsimile of the King James Bible. I also have at least one of the following: American Standard Version, New American Standard, Revised Standard Bible, New Revised Standard Version, New King James Version, English Standard Version, New International Version, New Living Translation, Holman Christian Standard Bible, Amplified Bible, New English Bible, The Message, and The Voice.

I ran out of breath just typing that.

I have lots of Bibles that look pretty and make me look all spiritual and impressive when I tote them under my arm. Not all of them at once, mind you. I only carry one at the time. Two tops.

But for all that, how much of a Bible do I carry inside me? How well do I know this Bible I profess to love, that I boldly proclaim as inerrant, perfect, God-breathed?

And if people are reading my life like the only Bible they will ever read, what kind of message are they getting? Is it that God only loves good little children? Is it that God loves the same causes I do and is against everything I’m against? Is is that you have to jump through all the right hoops and say all the right magic words to get God’s approval?

Or is it that I (like you and everyone else alive) am a broken person living in a broken world, hopelessly lost and estranged from God? Is it how that very God took on skin like mine and came to live among people like me to show me the way Home? To be the way Home?

I don’t have a neat and tidy ending for this post. I don’t have a funny story to close on. I do have the feeling that with all these Bibles, I should know a lot more about THE Bible than I do.

I also know that God is faithful and patient. He wants me to know Him far more than I do most of the time. And He’s very persistent.

I’m praying for a deep hunger and thirst for God’s Word. I want to crave it, to live it, to breathe it, to cherish it, to make it as much s part of me as my own skin.

“Deep within me I have hidden Your word so that I will never sin against You. . . . Your word is a lamp for my steps; it lights the path before me” (Psalm 119:11,105).

image