religion

A Moment of Nostalgia

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Recently, I went to Memphis for the funeral of a friend’s father. On the way, I stopped off with my mom at the Wolfchase Galleria and walked around while she looked for a wedding gift for a friend of the family.

I was pleasantly surprised to find a FYE Music and Movies store. I thought those were all but extinct. Needless to say, it made my heart happy.

Best Buy and Barnes and Noble are all good and well, but I miss record stores, especially those in the mall. I can’t tell you how many Saturdays I spent looking through the cutout bins for a great deal. I got my first taste of bluegrass music in a record store.

I’m old school. I like for my books and music to be tangible. Nothing beats the musty smell of a book that’s been well used and well loved. Nothing beats the feel of a compact disc or a vinyl record in your hand.

Don’t get me wrong. I have my fair share of digital music that I listen to on my iPhone. But sometimes at night when I can’t sleep, I’ll hunt down the perfect CD for my mood, find my headphones and portable CD player, and drift off to music that was created by real people playing real instruments.

The Bible is replete with music. It’s a way of remembering your heritage. Just look at the Psalms and see how King David marked every kind of occasion, happy or sad, with a song.

Even now, a song on the radio can conjure up an old memory like nothing else can. It’s like a time machine to a defining moment in my past.

I hope that music store in Memphis can survive. Maybe one day soon I can go back when I have more time to kill.

 

 

Looking for the Pause Button

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Sometimes, I wish life had a remote control, like in that Adam Sandler movie where he fast-forwards through the boring parts of his life.

Only I wouldn’t be looking for the fast-forward button. I’d want to pause my life.

Today, I went to the funeral of a friend’s dad. I hadn’t seen or talked to him in a long time, but I remember him as being a quiet, gentle man who loved his God and his family and who also happened to own the first PC that I had ever seen.

I saw him lying in the coffin, looking like a perfect wax replica of a person. Then I remembered that I was looking not at the man, but at the shell. The moment he breathed his last he was instantly in the presence of Jesus, fully alive and healthy and happy.

I heard where two Briarcrest students who were set to embark on their senior year of high school died Friday at the hands of a drunk driver who had four DUIs in the last five years.

There’s too much sadness and loss in the world. Too many people had to say goodbye to the ones they loved, while more than that never got the chance.

I sense more than ever how precious and fleeting this life is. I understand more how important it is never to take anyone in your life for granted.

I’m thinking about the quote from the movie The Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel– “There’s no present like the time.”

I recall a pastor who said that at best this life is like a clean bus station. You don’t set up a bedroom suite and move all your belongings into a Greyhound terminal, because it’s only a stop along the way toward your final destination.

This life is so brief because this is not our final destination. Heaven is. As much as I keep forgetting, as much as I want that pause button to work, I know that I can’t stop that second hand from racing clockwise toward another tomorrow.

I can only choose to live each moment fully and to be fully present to every person in every place at every moment that I’m given. I can know that in God’s economy nothing is ever wasted and the good a person does follows after them. Your legacy will far outlive you and in the end, it won’t be what you did for a living or who you knew, but who you were and what you did with what God gave you.

 

Hymns in the Dark

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“Along about midnight, Paul and Silas were at prayer and singing a robust hymn to God. The other prisoners couldn’t believe their ears. Then, without warning, a huge earthquake! The jailhouse tottered, every door flew open, all the prisoners were loose.

 Startled from sleep, the jailer saw all the doors swinging loose on their hinges. Assuming that all the prisoners had escaped, he pulled out his sword and was about to do himself in, figuring he was as good as dead anyway, when Paul stopped him: “Don’t do that! We’re all still here! Nobody’s run away!”

The jailer got a torch and ran inside. Badly shaken, he collapsed in front of Paul and Silas. He led them out of the jail and asked, ‘Sirs, what do I have to do to be saved, to really live?’ They said, ‘Put your entire trust in the Master Jesus. Then you’ll live as you were meant to live—and everyone in your house included!'” (Acts 16:25-35).

Today at The Church at Avenue South, Matthew Page preached on the passage where Paul and Silas sang hymns in prison. I wonder if I could do that, especially if I were behind bars for something I didn’t do.

Matthew spoke about how they lived a questionable life, as in a life that led people to ask questions about what kind of men they were and why they lived the way they did.

The most powerful part of their witness was being able to sing praise songs in a prison cell. That more than anything captured the attention of not only the fellow prisoners but of the prison guard as well.

I wonder if the earthquake would have happened if Paul and Silas has remained silent. Or if they had chosen instead to make a laundry list of all the wrongs and injustices inflicted upon them. Maybe. Maybe not.

The result was that a prison guard and his entire family came to faith in the Jesus that Paul and Silas sang about. Some scholars think that the other prisoners converted to Christianity as well.

Matthew went on to talk about being in the ER with a family whose daughter was near death. The prognosis was grim but some of those there with the family broke out singing hymns.

Do you sing as loud during the dark as well as during daylight? Do you praise God during the hard times when life doesn’t make sense? Does your speech reflect gratitude and thanksgiving in the midst of extreme trials and tribulations?

There was a doctor in that ER that eventually chose to follow Jesus because he saw what he couldn’t understand. He had probably seen people rage and curse at God but he had most likely never seen people worshipping through tears in the midst of tragedy.

By the way, the girl miraculously survived.

I won’t say that every time you praise Jesus, everything will automatically turn out the way you want it to, but I will say worship will change the way you see your circumstances.

It was convicting. Maybe I need a little more praise and a little less anxious analysing.

As always, I believe. Help my unbelief.

 

More of My Mind Blown at Kairos

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Tonight, Uncle Mike (or Mike Glenn, as he is known to those outside of Kairos) spoke on the passage in Matthew where Pilate offers up a choice to the people.

“Whom do you want me to release today? Jesus or Barabbas?”

He does this hoping the crowd will want to release Jesus, but to his dismay, they ask for Barabbas instead.

“Don’t you know what kind of man this is? Are you sure you want this man over your Messiah?”

I’m sure Pilate thought but never spoke these words. Instead, he washed his hands of the whole business. Literally.

I wonder if you could have been close enough, would you have heard Jesus saying, “Release Barabbas”?

The truth of the matter is that Jesus chose Barabbas. Jesus chose to go to His death so that Barabbas could go free.

I would not have picked Barabbas. He was not a nice guy in the most extreme sense. But Jesus did.

Don’t forget that Jesus also chose you and me. He chose to die for you and me so that we could go free.

You might say that you’re not as bad as a Barabbas, but the Bible says you have sinned. I have sinned. We have all fallen short of who God made us to be. We had the choice and chose the other side over God.

But when God had a choice, He chose us. Jesus chose us over His own life.

My mind is once again officially blown.

Love Will Remain

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I read this about a week ago and kept it in my archives to share with you at some point. So here it is, without any added commentary from me:

“Hope and faith will both come to an end when we die. But love will remain. Love is eternal. Love comes from God and returns to God.  When we die, we will lose everything that life gave us except love. The love with which we lived our lives is the life of God within us. It is the divine, indestructible core of our being. This love not only will remain but will also bear fruit from generation to generation.

When we approach our deaths let us say to those we leave behind, ‘Don’t let your heart be troubled. The love of God that dwells in my heart will come to you and offer you consolation and comfort'” (Henri Nouwen).

 

 

Quotes I Love Part One

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I think this says it all.

“WE CAN SAY THAT the story of the Resurrection means simply that the teachings of Jesus are immortal like the plays of Shakespeare or the music of Beethoven and that their wisdom and truth will live on forever. Or we can say that the Resurrection means that the spirit of Jesus is undying, that he himself lives on among us, the way that Socrates does, for instance, in the good that he left behind him, in the lives of all who follow his great example. Or we can say that the language in which the Gospels describe the Resurrection of Jesus is the language of poetry and that, as such, it is not to be taken literally but as pointing to a truth more profound than the literal.

Very often, I think, this is the way that the Bible is written, and I would point to some of the stories about the birth of Jesus, for instance, as examples; but in the case of the Resurrection, this simply does not apply because there really is no story about the Resurrection in the New Testament. Except in the most fragmentary way, it is not described at all. There is no poetry about it. Instead, it is simply proclaimed as a fact. Christ is risen! In fact, the very existence of the New Testament itself proclaims it. Unless something very real indeed took place on that strange, confused morning, there would be no New Testament, no Church, no Christianity.

Yet we try to reduce it to poetry anyway: the coming of spring with the return of life to the dead earth, the rebirth of hope in the despairing soul. We try to suggest that these are the miracles that the Resurrection is all about, but they are not. In their way they are all miracles, but they are not this miracle, this central one to which the whole Christian faith points.

Unlike the chief priests and the Pharisees, who tried with soldiers and a great stone to make themselves as secure as they could against the terrible possibility of Christ’s really rising again from the dead, we are considerably more subtle. We tend in our age to say, ‘Of course, it was bound to happen. Nothing could stop it.’ But when we are pressed to say what it was that actually did happen, what we are apt to come out with is something pretty meager: this ‘miracle’ of truth that never dies, the ‘miracle’ of a life so beautiful that two thousand years have left the memory of it undimmed, the ‘miracle’ of doubt turning into faith, fear into hope. If I believed that this or something like this was all that the Resurrection meant, then I would turn in my certificate of ordination and take up some other profession. Or at least I hope that I would have the courage to” (Frederick Buechner).

-Originally published in The Alphabet of Grace

Three Reminders for Those of Us Who Need it Tonight

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When I was a senior at Union University, my roommates and I used to go dumpster diving. At least I remember the one time. I came away with a worn out baseball glove and a television. I kid you not. I got a television from the dumpster.

When I ceremoniously placed it in my dorm room and plugged it in, lo and behold it worked. It even had a button on it that would turn the images on the screen green. I still don’t know what the purpose of that was.

That rescued television served me well all the rest of my senior year of college. In fact, it worked all the way up until the day I brought it home. Then it became a very heavy and super bulky paper weight.

I sometimes wonder how God puts people and places and things into our lives for a season. Sure, some friends are for life, but those are rare and precious. Most of the people in my life have come for a week, a month, maybe a year or two. I’ve learned not so much to be sorrowful when they’re gone but to celebrate the lessons they taught me.

I was reminded of three things tonight. 1) Jesus is for me, 2) Jesus is with me, and 3) Jesus is in me.

My pastor tonight said that Jesus was the best evidence that God isn’t pursuing you and me because he’s angry, but because He’s desperate for us to save us from our sins and ourselves. I agree with that. Jesus Himself said He came not to condemn the world, but that it might be saved through Him.

I know Jesus is with me. He promised He’d never leave me, abandon me, or forsake me. That’s a promise I’ve found to be true, whether I could feel it or not.

I know Jesus is in me. Sometimes, I find myself saying and doing things that I know could never come from me. At least based on what I’ve said and done the other 98% of the time. I know that’s not me speaking and acting, but Jesus in me.

So remember tonight that Jesus is for you, with you, and in you.

S-D-Gordon-Quote-Jesus-Life

 

Trusting in True Love

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“But for my part I trust in thy true love.
My heart shall rejoice, for thou hast set me free.
I will sing to the Lord, who has granted all my desire” (Psalm 13:5-6).

That’s where I am, folks. My life hasn’t turned out like I thought it would, and that truly is okay. It only means something better’s coming.

I still believe that with all my being. I still believe that God has taken me by a unique path because He has unique blessings in store for me.

Maybe that’s you. Maybe your life hasn’t turned out nearly to be what you’d thought it be at this point. Maybe you haven’t hit those all-important societal markers that tell you that you’ve arrived.

Maybe you don’t have kids. Maybe you’re not married. Maybe you’re (gasp) still living with mom and dad, It’s easy to feel like you’re the world’s biggest failure.

But maybe, just maybe, that’s where God has you for a reason. Maybe, just maybe, you’ve got something special coming and you’re just not ready to receive what God has in store for you right now.

I know that the Bible is replete with stories of people who had to wait for their promise from God. Joseph, Moses, Abraham, and David are just a few out of many. So if you’re waiting, you’re in good company.

The point is that what God has promised to you is truer than your present circumstances. In fact, He is so true to His word that whatever He’s promised is as good as done and you can truthfully say right now that God has “granted all my desire.”

That’s not an easy place to be, waiting on God’s promises. Waiting is never easy. But it is a good place. And always, always worth it.

 

 

 

Lessons from Van Gogh

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Tonight at Kairos, Michael Boggs did a bit of art history. I have to share what he said because it really does have implications for 21st century American Christianity.

Van Gogh started as a missionary living in a mining community. He totally immersed himself in their world tried to be Jesus to them. The result was that the church who put him there fired him because they felt his behavior wasn’t becoming of their standards.

He painted his famous church painting much later. The painting is beautiful, but also telling in what it leaves out. First, there are no lights coming from within the church. There’s not a path leading to the church. Finally, there are no doors anywhere on this church.

It was as if Van Gogh was communicating how he felt church leaders shut him out and how he couldn’t get back in. He felt like they put up barriers between him and God.

A question my friend posed (and one I’ve been thinking about a lot lately is, ” What would Jesus undo?” He even wrote a book by that title with just that question in mind.

I believe Jesus would undo the walls we put up to keep people out. Not the boundaries we put up to protect ourselves, but walls we use to ostracize those who think and act different than us.

Most of all, I think Jesus would undo the holy huddle mentality that has kept the lost people around it at arm’s length and shut its eyes to the dire need around it.

Jesus would undo the religious hyper-activity that keeps us too busy going to church throughout the week to be able to take Jesus to those around us who really need Him.

Jesus would definitely undo my smug superiority over those who sin differently than I do, reminding me that my sin is just as offensive as theirs. I need Jesus as much as anyone and it took just as much grace to save me as it took for any felon or drug addict.

I plan on buying the book, What Would Jesus Undo by Michael Boggs, and I hope you will, too. Shameless plug.

Wednesday Thoughts

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I got another sneak peek of autumn. It was warm, but not too much, with no humidity and just the tiniest hint of frost in the air. I loved it.

I drove home listening to a Billie Holiday CD. It was in fact the same CD that I lost in my transition from Memphis to Nashville almost 9 years ago. Her voice always takes me to a soothing happy place. It’s sad that her own life was so tragic and filled with heartaches and poor choices.

I took my iPad to the Apple Store because the Big Honkin’ Button hasn’t been working right. And no, that’s probably not the name that the Apple tekkies use, but it works for me. Anyhow, THAT button can be stubborn and not always do what I want. Imagine that.

It turns out I can either trade in this iPad for partial credit toward a new iPad or learn to bear with the Big-Honkin’-and-Sometimes-Annoying-Button. I chose option #2 as it was the affordable option.

I’m thinking about all the celebs we’ve lost so far in 2014: Philip Seymour Hoffman, James Garner, Mickey Rooney, Shirley Temple, Lauren Bacall, and Robin Williams.

I still can’t imagine being in a place where death seems like the only option. Then again, I’ve never struggled with clinical depression. I do know that it’s not something you can just “snap out of,” but a real chemical imbalance. A broken brain is just as broken as any broken foot or arm or leg. You just can’t see it.

I also know that you never know the secret battles that others are facing. I can look down on a Philip Seymour Hoffman who overdosed or a Robin Williams who hung himself with his own belt. But who knows how I would have fared under similar circumstances? Maybe I would have done far worse.

So yeah, it was nice outside. Too nice to not take a little time, roll down the windows, and breathe in the air. I may not have everything I want but I do have everything I need and then some. I am blessed.