The Condescension of God

con·de·scen·sion

 [kon-duhsen-shuhn]  Show IPA

noun

1.

an act or instance of condescending.
2.

behavior that is patronizing or condescending.
3.

voluntary assumption of equality with a person regarded as inferior.
Ok, for the purposes of this blog, forget #1 and #2. Put them out of your mind. I want to focus on #3. Because that’s what God did for us.
Let me explain.
This is the God of whom Isaiah wrote, “‘For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways,’ declares the Lord. ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.”
This God would be completely unknowable unless He had first chosen to reveal Himself to us. He would have remained completely incomprehensible unless He had chosen to reveal His nature and His character. And  He didn’t get all high and mighty with us or look down His celestial nose at us. He looked at us with pity and compassion. But mostly with love.
Truly, this God is not like one of us, only bigger, stronger, faster. He is not the ultimate $6 million dollar man. He is holy, set apart, wholly other.
Jesus is the ultimate example of God’s condescension to man. He who was infinitely higher than we could ever hope or aspire to be, voluntarily assumed equality with those who were His inferiors, i.e. us. He became one of us. Or as Paul puts it in Philippians,
Though He was in the form of God,
    He chose not to cling to equality with God;
But He poured Himself out to fill a vessel brand new;
    a servant in form
    and a man indeed.
The very likeness of humanity,
He humbled Himself,
    obedient to death—
    a merciless death on the cross!
So God raised Him up to the highest place
    and gave Him the name above all.
So when His name is called,
    every knee will bow,
    in heaven, on earth, and below.
And every tongue will confess
    ‘Jesus, the Anointed One, is Lord,’
    to the glory of God our Father!”
I’m thankful that when I couldn’t get to God, He came to me. I’m grateful that it wasn’t me who found God, but rather it was He who found me. He wasn’t lost. I was. I’m mostly glad that He didn’t (and doesn’t) leave me where He found me but constantly makes me a little bit more like Jesus every day.
So, yeah, I suppose I do like that word condescension now.

New Year’s Rockin’ Eve? Maybe

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So far, my mailbox isn’t exactly stuffed with invitations to parties and soirees for the end of the year. My phone isn’t blowing up with texts or messages or calls– or anything for that matter.

To borrow off the old TV western, “Have Chips and GPS. Will Travel.”

Likely, this will be a subdued year’s end. I’m not one for crazy shenanigans anyway. I prefer a few friends to a crowd any day. And I’d much rather be inside on a cold night like this anyway.

I’m currently accepting offers for New Year’s Eve 2014. Apparently, that beats waiting until the last minute like this year.

Here’s something to think about as you ring in 2014: “Write it on your heart that every day is the best day in the year”
(Ralph Waldo Emerson).

Now is the best day to be alive, to be thankful for being alive, and to live.

Don’t wait until 2014. Start now.

That’s all.

Oh, and happy new year!

Untitled Blog #1,239

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Yeah, it was a Monday. A 12-hour workday Monday.

Normally, that recipe makes for one grumpy Greg. But not today.

God reminded me that joy is a choice that I must make every single day, even on a cold winter Monday at 6 am.

Thanksgiving means not seeing a long work day ahead but me having a job, not me having an annoying cough that sounds like a car that won’t start but me being awake and alive.

I still have those people I don’t get. One won’t ever speak to me unless I speak to her first and even then she sometimes doesn’t respond. One I’ve pretty much learned to leave alone and pray for from a distance.

But God still can teach me something in every circumstance and use every person I meet as a blessing, a lesson, or a caution.

I’m learning to slow down and appreciate the small moments, the short conversations, the texts, these moments of quiet grace.

I lost my joy for a little while. I took my eyes off of Jesus and got swamped by worry, fear, and lack. I bemoaned all that I didn’t have instead of practicing the art of thanksgiving for all that I do have.

Right now, I’m thankful for friends who still want to know me after I’ve gone a little nutty on them, white chocolate covered oreos, my Jeep, a faithful 13-year old feline, a warm soft bed, and for Jesus. Most of all, for Jesus.

Why I Love Room in the Inn

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I have to confess something. I almost skipped Room in the Inn tonight. I mean, it’s frickin’ cold outside and I am tired from a long workday and a not-so-great night of sleep.

But then I remember that the guys who benefit most Room in the Inn would otherwise be sleeping out in that bitter cold. Room in the Inn brings homeless men into different churches during the week to have a warm meal, a hot shower, and a place to sleep that’s out of the elements.

I remember how blessed I am every time I volunteer at Room in the Inn. I have all these things every day and routinely take them for granted. Which makes me wonder if all i had were those things I had given thanks for the night before, what would I still have left?

These guys put me to shame in many ways. They are grateful for everything. They have literally next to nothing but they also are always so thankful and kind. I always end up receiving more blessing than I ever could think of giving.

How are you serving and giving to those who can never repay you? How are you serving Jesus by serving the least of these? Will you give thanks for those little things in your life?

Just some food for thought on a chilly Monday night.

My Own Particular Brand of Theology

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I used to love to argue theology. It was all about not only proving my side was right, but proving just how wrong the other side really was. After all, if anyone REALLY read the Bible, they would see things the way I saw them. Right?

I had my proof texts. I had my arguments.

I’m a lot less dogmatic about a lot of things, but there are a few things I still can say for certain.

I would never have loved God if He hadn’t loved me first.

I would never have chosen Him had He not chosen me from before creation.

In the end, I will have no room for boasting. I won’t be able to pat myself on the back on how clever or wise I was for choosing Jesus and following Him all these years.

In the end, Jesus will get ALL the credit. He’s the one who wooed me and led me with tender words through the desert. He’s the one who found me when I got lost from the path countless times, walked beside me, and carried me when I couldn’t walk.

All Jesus needs to to AMAZING things in my life is the tiniest of places to start. Just the least bit of agreement on my part gives Him room to amaze me and everyone around me by what He does in and through me.

I’ve come to the point where I don’t really trust -isms anymore. I trust Jesus. I try not to build my faith on what people have said about Jesus but in what Jesus actually said. I have set my hopes not on a man-made system of rules and beliefs but in a Person.

Lately I’ve found I’m a lot more flexible and forgiving and loving and compassionate because I have seen all those times when I was weak and unloving and messed-up and broken. I’ve found that grace really is the best way.

I guess some people will call me a liberal. Some will call me a fundamentalist. Lately, I’ve gotten away from using terms like born again because of too many political implications associated with that word. When I look back at my life and where I am as opposed to where I’ve been, the word I choose to use is THANKFUL. I’m living my miracle and I’m falling in love with Jesus a little more every single day.

 

Thankful for Life

Of all the potential bucket list items I might have chosen to get done before I die, getting hit by a car was not one of them. But now I can scratch that one off my list.

I was crossing 5th Street in Historic Downtown Franklin when I foolishly stepped in front of a Mustang and got clipped. It knocked me to the ground and I’m pretty sure it took out the side view mirror on the car.

I remember seeing the car and thinking, “Oh crap, it’s going to hit me.” That’s not a feeling I want to relive any time soon.

I looked down at my hand and my pinky was bent in a funny shape. I was positive I had just broken my very first bone at 40 years old. I kept waiting for the serious pain to kick in, but it never did.

The girl who hit me was profusely apologetic and asked at least a thousand times if I was okay and could she call an ambulance for me. I felt more bad for her than for me. I got a little woozy and decided to sit down in Sweet CeCe’s just across the street.

Later, I spent three hours in the emergency room at Williamson Medical Center, mostly on account of that crooked little finger.

The only injuries I have to report are a dislocated pinky and a cut on my elbow that required five stitches. Oh, and a very small scrape on my right knee.

I did end up missing a movie I had bought a ticket for that I really wanted to see. The Perks of Being a Wallflower at the Franklin Theatre will have to wait. Hopefully, they will show it again soon.

Overall, I am most thankful to be alive and in one unbroken and (mostly) pain-free piece. I could have been killed or seriously injured. I could very easily have hit my head when I fell.

But I am convinced that God was watching out for me. Even though I scraped up my elbow, the jacket I was wearing has no tear or holes in it. My jeans where the knee got scraped are intact. As am I.

I might be a little sore in the next day or so, but I will never be more glad for soreness. I am truly blessed.

 

A Week Full of Mondays

I had a week full of Mondays this week. Except for Tuesday, which was Christmas Day and awesome. That goes without saying. But the rest of the week . . . not so much.

Some weeks are like that. No matter how much you try, you say the wrong things. You do the wrong things. And when you try to correct your mistakes, it just gets worse. It’s like your foot got surgically implanted into your mouth or something.

So I’m glad it will be Saturday tomorrow. I mean surely, Saturday can’t turn into ANOTHER Monday, can it?

I suppose the lesson out of all of this is that a bad week serves the purpose of making you thankful for the good weeks, if nothing else.

I can at least be thankful for that.

 

Thankful for You

I’m thankful that you are you and not me. Don’t get me wrong. I’m thankful for me, too, but I’m glad there is only one of me. I’m not sure the world could handle multiple Gregs running amuck and causing all kinds of chaos.

I’m thankful that you are fearfully and wonderfully made in the image of God and that you carry His signature on you. You are not a mistake. You are not an afterthought. You are not a copy of anyone or anything else that has ever been or will ever be. You are uniquely you (try saying that five times fast).

Just as unique is God’s plan for you. Don’t get caught up in comparing your life to someone else’s. Maybe you’re not married. Maybe you’re still living at home with the folks long after you thought you would be. Maybe you’re still wondering what you’ll be when you finally grow up.

That doesn’t make you a failure. It means you are not satisfied with the status quo, but you are wanting to find out what you were born to do and what makes you come alive.

Be patient. God’s promises may not happen according to your timetable, but they always happen in His perfect timing. I believe that if you can hold out a little longer, you will be surprised and amazed at what comes next. God is anything but predictable. But I know it’s gonna be great.

Remember that no matter what happens today, no matter what anybody else says to you or about you, no matter how impossible your life seems right now, that I am thankful for you. I’m rooting for you. So is God. And like I’ve said before, what seems impossible to us is not even remotely difficult for God (thanks to Pete Wilson of Cross Point Church for that one).

 

 

Things I’m thankful for

If you’ve been keeping up with my facebook posts, this might be a bit of a re-run for you. At least most of it.

I’ve compiled an extensive list of things I’m thankful for, some frivolous, some serious, some in-between. You be the judge. I’m thankful

1) For orange tic-tacs (ever since I saw the movie Juno).

2) For unending and unfailing grace.

3) For the tortilla soup at Chuy’s that I can’t get enough of.

4) For God’s track-record of faithfulness, especially in the times when I’ve been faithless.

5) For chai frappachinos from Starbucks with caramel drizzle (and cinnamon sprinkled on top as an added bonus).

6) For friends who have stood by me when others might have given up and written me off as a lost cause.

7) For coconut water, because once you’ve tried it, you’re hooked.

8) For new mercies every morning.

9) Chocolate in all its wonderful and glorious forms– and yes, I am aware that today is National Milk Chocolate Day.

10) The day Jesus rescued me.

11) That it’s currently not 111 degrees outside. And for air-conditioning inside.

12) That one day God will make everything right again and turn the world right-side up.

13) For spam in a can, ’cause it’s brilliant.

14) That I’m not who I was and I’m not yet who I will be.

15) That every time a bell rings, an angel gets his wings (attaboy, Clarence!)

16) That every time I fall down or fail big, I get a second chance and a clean slate.

17) For the chicken cobb avocado salad at Panera Bread on Old Hickory Blvd in front of Target.

18) For every single word of encouragement or blessing or edification or correction spoken over me by family and friends. You didn’t realize it, but God was speaking through you to me to make me more like Jesus.

I could think of about a 1,000 more reasons to be thankful, but I’ll save those for future blogs. When you live with eyes and heart and hands wide open, you can’t help but be grateful and thankful all the time. You can’t help but see blessings everywhere.

So what are you thankful for?

My Last Day on Earth

I was thinking about the shootings at the movie theatre in Colorado today. Not in a morbid way. I was thinking what if I was one of those 12 people who went into the theatre to see The Dark Knight Rises, never realizing that my life was about to end.

What if I knew that today was my last day? How would it change how I lived?

I know I’d be more forgiving and understanding of others, far less quick to pass judgments and far more eager to give grace and the benefit of the doubt. I’d be more forgiving of myself when I do and say stupid stuff.

I’d spend less time getting the to-do list checked off and much more time hanging out with the people who matter to me.

I’d be braver and take more chances. Probably not sky-diving or bull-riding, but I’d do at least one thing that I’d been scared of doing before.

I’d appreciate the people in my life who have really been my friends and family and who have loved me when I wasn’t too easy to love and supported and encouraged me when I needed it most.

I’d make every effort to let the people in my life know how much they meant to me and how grateful I was for them, because no tomorrow is guaranteed for me or for anyone else. I would never assume that people know how special and uniquely-created they are; I’d tell them.

I’d be a lot more thankful for the little things in my life like the sun rising every morning, the flowers that bloom every spring, the sweet scent of summer air that takes me back to my childhood. I’d say “Thank you, God,” a lot more and really mean it.

What if I lived every day of the rest of the life God gives me as if it were my last day?