My Favorite Walks

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In The Hobbit, there’s a passage that references a map that contains all of Bilbo Baggin’s favorite walking trails. I think I’ve found mine.

There’s a street that runs parallel to West Main Street that I’ve discovered that lends itself to walking and thinking. There’s not a lot of traffic on this road so it’s fairly peaceful.

All the houses on this street have been around a while and every once in a while I’ll run across some kids playing in a back yard or some friendly neighbors who will wave as I pass by. Once I even encountered a chatty grey cat who pegged me for being a cat person and ambled up to me for a bit of petting and conversation.

If I had loads of money, I’d like to live on this street. There is a house for sale that dates back to 1900. There’s another house that recently hit the market that I’d be sorely disappointed if there weren’t a ghost story or two to go with its fabled history.

I prefer walking when it’s not swelteringly hot. It’s hard to achieve tranquility when you’re sweating like a turkey that’s about to be Thanksgiving dinner. Or a pig that’s about to be in a BLT.

I’ve never been one to hear God speaking to me audibly, but I’ve found that God often speaks to me during one of my walks. Plus, I do need the exercise.

The Gospels record many instances of Jesus and the disciples doing a lot of walking. Back then, that was the main way to get from Point A to Point B. You walked.

I imagine that most of the memories the disciples carried with them of Jesus were the ones of the conversations they had while en route from one town to another. That’s how Jesus often speaks to us today. Generally not in those special moments but in the grind of daily life while we’re headed from one place to another.

So often in the walk of faith, the journey is just as important as the destination and the lessons we learn most are the ones we learn along the way.

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Peter, Peter, Peter

 “As soon as the meal was finished, he insisted that the disciples get in the boat and go on ahead to the other side while he dismissed the people. With the crowd dispersed, he climbed the mountain so he could be by himself and pray. He stayed there alone, late into the night.

Meanwhile, the boat was far out to sea when the wind came up against them and they were battered by the waves. At about four o’clock in the morning, Jesus came toward them walking on the water. They were scared out of their wits. ‘A ghost!’ they said, crying out in terror.

But Jesus was quick to comfort them. ‘Courage, it’s me. Don’t be afraid.’

Peter, suddenly bold, said, ‘Master, if it’s really you, call me to come to you on the water.’

He said, ‘Come ahead.’

Jumping out of the boat, Peter walked on the water to Jesus. But when he looked down at the waves churning beneath his feet, he lost his nerve and started to sink. He cried, ‘Master, save me!’

Jesus didn’t hesitate. He reached down and grabbed his hand. Then he said, ‘Faint-heart, what got into you?’

The two of them climbed into the boat, and the wind died down. The disciples in the boat, having watched the whole thing, worshiped Jesus, saying, ‘This is it! You are God’s Son for sure!'” (Matthew 14:22-33, The Message).

I’ve been thinking about Peter, the disciple with the chronic case of foot-in-mouth disease. He got into trouble by saying things and acting out without really thinking it through. Not that any of us can relate, right?

He often gets a bad rap for the whole sinking bit. After Jesus calls him to walk on water, he gets so far out and sees the waves and panics and . . . . down he goes. Only a fast-acting Jesus keeps Peter from sleeping with the fishes. Literally.

But for a moment or two, Peter walked on water. Other than Jesus Himself, Peter is the only other in history who can make that claim.

While it’s easy to chide Peter for taking his eyes off Jesus, you have to give him kudos for getting out of the boat in the first place. After all, there were eleven other disciples who stayed put.

Peter left everything he knew, everything that was comfortable, and everything that made sense in that moment to come to where Jesus was. To me, failure would have been Peter staying in the boat and saying, “No thanks, Jesus. I’m fine. Really.”

I can relate to the other disciples. It’s easy to stay in the boat and criticize the ones who try to get out and do something. It’s easy to sit where you have something tangible to hold onto in the middle of raging waves.

But that kind of faith never gets you anywhere. It’s the faith that takes risks, that takes that step of faith out into the scary unknown, that leads us to where Jesus is. That’s the faith that takes us to places where we see the impossible becoming reality.

Lord, I want that kind of faith that Peter had in that moment. I want to step out of the boat, get my feet wet, and make fool of myself if it will help get me a little closer to You.

Amen.

 

Easter Sunday 2015

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“It is good for us to remember that this stone was rolled away from the entrance, not to permit Christ to come out but to enable the disciples to go in!” (Peter Marshall)

“A man who was completely innocent, offered himself as a sacrifice for the good of others, including his enemies, and became the ransom of the world. It was a perfect act” (Mahatma Gandhi).

“God proved His love on the Cross. When Christ hung, and bled, and died, it was God saying to the world, ‘I love you'” (Billy Graham).

“But with Christ, we have access in a one-to-one relationship, for, as in the Old Testament, it was more one of worship and awe, a vertical relationship. The New Testament, on the other hand, we look across at a Jesus who looks familiar, horizontal. The combination is what makes the Cross” (Bono).

For me, Easter is a bit harder to prepare for than Christmas. You don’t have nearly the commercialism of the season constantly reminding you that the day is coming. Also, Easter isn’t on a fixed day every year like Christmas.

Most of all, Easter isn’t quite the feel-good story that Christmas is. You don’t have the cute little infant being cradled by loving Mary as a doting Joseph watches on. You have the gory spectacle of the cross and the death of an innocent Man to deal with.

But you need both, I think. You can’t have the Greatest Story Ever Told without both the virgin birth and the death and resurrection. If Jesus wasn’t born of a virgin Mary, then He’s not qualified to die for anyone’s sins but His own. If He isn’t raised from the dead, then we are still stuck in our sins and just as hopeless as before.

So I love both seasons. More than that, I love how Advent comes before Christmas and Lent comes before Easter, giving us time to prepare our hearts and minds for what it all means.

This year, Easter means that no life is wasted. It means that every life matters and every single person ever born matters to God. It means that your and my identity doesn’t come from honor rolls or bank accounts or resumes, but from Calvary. At the core, who I am is the Beloved of God, who proved that He thought I was worth dying for on that cross.

Oh, in case you’re wondering, there are only 263 days left until Christmas.

 

 

What’s In Your Hands, Kairos-Style

Mike Glenn spoke about a boy with some bread and fish. Actually, he spoke about the parable of the feeding of the 5,000 from Mark 6, but that story wouldn’t have been possible without that boy who had the five loaves of bread and two fishes. Ok, Jesus probably could have conjured up a feast out of nothing, but he chose to use the obedience of this one little boy to bless a hungry multitude.

In the end, the too few with the too little had fed the too many with too much left at the end (as Dr. Glenn put it). What started out as as the dollar menu special from Captain D’s ended up with twelve baskets of leftovers, one for each disciple.

That said, I have to ask myself one question. Maybe this question is for you: what do you have in your hands?

Maybe to us it doesn’t seem like much. Maybe it seems like practically nothing. When you’re dealing with anywhere from 17,000-20,000 people (including the 5,000 men that Mark mentions in the story), two fish and five loaves of bread aren’t going to go very far.

Maybe what you have in terms of talents, gifts, passions, and desires seems very inadequate for God to use. But then, God’s not interested in your abilities and talents and much as your availabilities and willingness to serve.

Jesus took those twelve uneducated disciples and poured His life into them. In the end, they were twelve who went out and turned the world upside down (or more accurately, turned an already upside down world right-side up again).

Who knows what God can do with that paltry offering you hold in your two hands? Who knows the far-reaching impact of your small sacrifices, far beyond anything you can imagine or will probably ever know, to reach people you never dreamed of reaching and touch far more lives than you ever thought possible.

So when God comes calling, and He will, open up your hands and give Him what you have. Then be prepared to be amazed at what He does with it.

 

Easter Season Liturgy Part V

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“O God, Creator of heaven and earth:  Grant that, as the crucified body of your dear Son was laid in the tomb and rested on this holy Sabbath, so we may await with him the coming of the third day, and rise with him to newness of life; who now lives and reigns with you and the Holy Spirit, one God, for ever and ever. Amen.”

So I did the whole downtown Franklin thing again. It always does my heart good to be back there, revisiting my favorite haunts and breathing in the perfect spring night air.

I don’t really know what to do with the Saturday between Good Friday and Easter. It seems so low-key compared to the tragic drama of Friday and the joyful triumphant victory of Sunday.

But I know what’s coming. I wonder what those disciples were thinking and feeling. Or the Marys. It must have seemed like the lowest point of their lives. All of their hopes and dreams and been awakened and they had only just begun to hope, then it was dashed and broken to pieces beyond recognition.

The one they thought would save them was dead in a tomb. They had seem the bloodied body, seen the moment when the spear went into Jesus’ side and both blood and water poured out. There was no doubt.

I’m glad I’m on this side of history and I know what’s coming. I know with the next sunrise comes Sunday and the empty tomb and a risen Christ. That’s where my hope lies.

I can’t imagine people whose faith won’t allow for miracles or resurrections. Would that even be faith at all? What if Jesus’ death were only an example and the only way He lived was in the memories of His followers? What kind of hope would that be?

Only a literal resurrection can give true hope. Only a Jesus who’s really and truly alive, with the wounds in His hands, feet, and side, could inspire the joy of Easter. That’s why I can’t wait for tomorrow and the celebration that comes with it.

 

Kairos and Other Random Tuesday Thoughts

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I’ve probably said it before but I do so love Kairos. I probably look forward to that night more than any other during the week. Whether it’s Michael Boggs or someone else leading worship, whether Mike Glenn or someone else is speaking, I’ve never walked away without at least one fresh new insight into God and His love for me.

Granted, I’m still not quite to that “super-spiritual” level. I confess that I still covet. Like for instance on Monday when I went into the Apple Store and immediately began coveting half the stuff there. Especially those iPad Airs and the MacBook Pros. I admit it. I like cool gadgets.

But the point of tonight’s sermon was whether I’m willing to be like those first four disciples who laid down everything to follow Jesus. Everything. They left behind jobs and family to follow Jesus without knowing where He would take them. I don’t mean they took a week or two to think it over then went. They dropped their nets and IMMEDIATELY followed Jesus.

If Jesus called me to leave my stuff and my familiar people and places, it would be hard. I’d like to say I’d obey right away, but part of me is too attached to my stuff. Just keeping it real. I mean I’m typing this on my iPad 3 for pete’s sake.

I know that the gain from following Jesus is way more than worth whatever I give up. Jesus even said that whoever followed Him would receive a thousand times over what they had given up or lost in the process.

You don’t follow Jesus for blessings or peace or security– although those things are all well and good. You follow Jesus because He’s Jesus. You may get those things as a reward for following, but you may also get suffering and persecution and alienation, too.

Oh, and sometimes you will leave behind bad stuff to go after Jesus, like addictions and pain and struggles. But some of what you leave behind will be good. Just not as good as Jesus.

That’s all for this Tuesday evening.

That Ol’ Emmaus Road

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In the story in Luke 24 about the two disciples walking down the Emmaus road, a question probably comes to mind. How could they have not recognized Jesus walking beside them, conversing with them, the whole entire time? I mean, wasn’t he the focus of their lives for three years? How could they have been so blind?

But then I think I understand. Sometimes deep grief and pain can keep you from really seeing what and who is around you. Sometimes, you just get too wrapped up in your own problems and anxieties to really pay attention to where you are.

Been there, done that, got the t-shirt.

Maybe you feel alone and abandoned as you walk your road. You may not realize it, but Jesus is silently walking beside you.

Maybe you feel like you need to clean up your act and get your life together so you can be “good enough” to meet Jesus. You may not be aware of it, but Jesus is already where you are, waiting on you to recognize him, drop your pretenses, and come running into his arms.

It’s interesting to me that the moment those two disciples recognized Jesus was in a moment of worship. They broke bread, like they had done earlier in the week with Jesus, and suddenly their eyes were opened. True worship does that. It helps us to find Jesus and understand that he was already with us all the time.  After all, he wasn’t the one lost and needing to be found. We were.

So maybe all you need to do is cling to the promise Jesus gave that he would never leave us nor forsake us. Maybe you need to reach out your hands in faith to find his own reaching toward you. No matter where you are or what you’ve done, no matter how badly you’ve messed up, Jesus is always ready to receive you again. He’s never stopped loving you or pursuing your heart.

I think that qualifies as the best news ever.

“But We Had Hoped . . . “

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“And we had our hopes up that he was the One, the One about to deliver Israel” (Luke 24:21).

I know you know what it’s like to have your hopes dashed yet again.

Maybe you thought a certain person was the one, but it turned out that he wasn’t interested in you like that or she only wanted to be friends.

Maybe you invested in a friendship and found out that you weren’t nearly as high on the other person’s list of priorities. Or maybe that other person saw some of your flaws and decided you just weren’t worth the effort anymore.

Maybe you felt confident after a really good job interview only to discover the company went with someone else they felt was a “better fit.”

Maybe you gave your time and energy and talent to a company for so many years only to find yourself on the receiving end of a pink slip with the words that went something like “we had to make some cutbacks somewhere.”

Maybe you’re at the place where it’s easier not to hope anymore. Where it’s easier not to open up to anyone or trust anyone beyond a surface level anymore. Where it’s easier and safer to give up on your dreams than risk the possibility of more disappointment and heartache.

Just like those two disciples, maybe you and I have gotten so wrapped up in ourselves that we miss who it is that’s walking alongside of us. We’ve missed his comforting words. Don’t you see him yet?

It’s Jesus.

I love what I heard a pastor say recently that went something like this: “Aren’t you glad that at the greatest hour of need that God didn’t send a text or a skype invite? He sent Jesus.”

Jesus has come to hear your story and then connect it with his. Not that he’ll be surprised by anything you tell him. He already knows what you’ve been through, even the ugly parts you would never tell another living soul. And he loves you.

He’ll stick around when friends bail, when spouses leave, when children don’t want to come around anymore. He’ll love you even when you can’t find the strength to love yourself.

Tonight, I’m more thankful for Jesus than ever. I know that when I’m feeling overwhelmed by negative thinking and feelings of abandonment, he’s speaking peace into my chaos. He’s whispering truth over the lies I’m believing.

And he won’t ever leave me.

A Kairos Challenge

Tonight, Mike Glenn spoke about the disciples on the road to Emmaus and how they failed to recognize Jesus because so often the last place we look for Jesus is right where we are. Jesus showed the highest compliment to his disciples when he called them friends and proved it when he laid down his life for these friends.

We are called to do the same. We are called to walk alongside people and be their friend, not for any gain or for any return, but simply for the sake of friendship. Even if the other person shows no inclination toward your viewpoint and wants nothing to do with your God, you are still called to be a friend.

The example Jesus showed us is that a friend is a friend, regardless. I can never give up on a friend because Jesus never gave up on me even though he had plenty of opportunities and reasons to do so.

We’re also called to be neighbors. Not in the sense of location, but in the sense of hospitality. The Good Samaritan parable shows us that the definition of a neighbor is someone who has a need that we have the power to meet, regardless of whether that person looks like us, acts like us, or believes us. Regardless of whether that person is likable or not.

I can’t remember where I heard it before and I’m sure I’ve shared it before, but I love the idea that Jesus is the ultimate neighbor. I was the one lying beaten and bloody on the side of the road, half dead. Jesus was the only one to stop and help me. He was the only one who paid for my care.

So, the challenge tonight is to be a friend and a neighbor. Not necessarily to shove my faith down anyone’s throat or prove the existence of God and the Bible. Just to love people where they are for who they are just like someone once loved me.

That’s all.

An Easter Reboot

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“The truth, even though I cannot feel it right now, is that I am the chosen child of God, precious in God’s eyes, called the Beloved from all eternity and held safe in an everlasting embrace… We must dare to opt consciously for our chosenness and not allow our emotions, feelings, or passions to seduce us into self-rejection” (Henri Nouwen).

The stone was rolled away from the door, not to permit Christ to come out, but to enable the disciples to go in” (Peter Marshall).

Sometimes, it takes Easter to get my mind refocused. Like so many of you, I can get off track so very easily and forget who I am and what I’m here for. I need to be reminded that I am indeed the beloved, the chosen child of God. My purpose is to live that out as best I can, to become what God has already declared me to be.

I take Easter for granted because I already know how the story ends. Or at least I think I do.

In fact, Easter isn’t an end, but a beginning. C. S. Lewis in his book, The Last Battle, said that all of history was merely a title page and a preface. Eternity is the real beginning of the book, where each chapter is better than the last and the story is truly neverending.

Easter reminds me that my forgiveness might have been free for me, but not free. it might have not cost me anything, but it was not without cost. I don’t need to forget that my forgiveness cost God the very highest price and is the most extravagant gift ever given in history. I don’t need to take that lightly or for granted.

Easter also reminds me that failure isn’t final, that goodbyes aren’t forever, and that truth and faith and love and hope all survive the grave and come out stronger on the other side. I guess that’s why I love it so much.