Hard Truth

February 11, 2020

“Gentle Jesus, meek and mild” is one of many caricatures of Jesus bandied about in both religious and secular circles, less so in the latter because they increasingly aren’t even aware or don’t even care about this first-century rabbi. It could just as easily be said that he is “Raging Jesus, mad and wild” if one would only reference his cleansing of the temple or his description of the end of times in Mark’s gospel, chapter 13. I suspect the former stereotype is more popular because we prefer a Jesus we can manipulate to one who wrests control of the status quo with righteous fury. 

This morning’s reading from Mark’s gospel intrigues me, especially in light of the misinformation so commonly spread by those who would use him for their own purposes. The scene is set when his disciples comment on the magnificent architecture of the great Temple. I admit to being impressed by great architecture myself. The towering arches of Westminster Abbey or Salisbury Cathedrals, the majesty of our own Capitol buildings or the Lincoln Memorial, the onion domes of the Orthodox, and the symmetrical beauty of the Taj Mahal inspire me. Jesus was unimpressed. “Not one stone will be left upon another,” was his only comment.

Those words led to a discussion with his disciples about the End Times. He spoke of “wars and rumors of wars,” of natural disasters, famine, and drought, of persecutions, betrayals, and martyrdom for the faith. He told of a time to come that would be so dreadful that were it not shortened, no one could live through it, and of false teachers able to perform signs and wonders with the intent of deceiving people into following them. Then comes the end, but without warning it will come like a tsunami, overwhelming those unprepared for it.

This is not the gospel proclaimed by popular preachers today. There are few who stand at the edge of the precipice crying out the warning that the bridge is out and danger lies ahead. We speak often of the wonderful plan God has for us, of the benefits of following Christ, the fulfillment that comes. Others speak politically, hoping as many did in the first century that the Messiah would vanquish the political powers, rescuing the oppressed, and reversing the roles so the downtrodden could finally do the downtreading. 

Jesus’ command isn’t what we like to hear. “Speak the Truth. Endure to the end. Watch and pray.” Deliverance will come, but it may not be from the fire, but through the fire. 

I don’t always like what Jesus says, but I am thankful he loves and trusts us enough to tell us the truth. He doesn’t treat us like children who have to be shielded from harm, but says plainly what we may not want to hear. That is the sign of genuine love; it prepares us for life as it is, rather than life as we wish it would be. 

Funerals

February 10, 2020

Funeral preparation is never fun. It’s not like weddings and baptisms where I have plenty of time to ponder your remarks. Two or three days at the most are all I have, and when people are going through such emotional and spiritual trauma, I want to be at the top of my game. Even those who never darken the door of a church are looking for some hope at a time when it seems to be in short supply. I know it cannot be conjured up at the last moment, but people are looking to me to give them something that isn’t mine to give. They’re often like green troops going into battle never having even gone through boot camp. Any way you look at it, funerals are stressful. 

Preparing for a funeral of someone you’ve never met is a particularly challenging endeavor, but is made easier when I learn that this person was a follower of Christ. That’s what I’ve been doing this evening. Tomorrow morning, I officiate, and I am grateful tonight that with all the things I don’t know about this woman, what I do know is that she is a follower of Jesus Christ. Notice I used the present tense. There is no “was” for the believer. This woman is more alive today than she ever was while on earth, and it is this hope I have the privilege of proclaiming tomorrow. It’s never easy, but it also never gets old, for which I am grateful tonight.

I am what I was not

February 9, 2020

“For He made Him who knew no sin to be sin for us, that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.” —II Corinthians 5:21 NKJV

The Bible contains no shortage of what some would consider outlandish claims, but of them all, this is perhaps the most amazing. Jesus became sin for us! I can’t claim to understand what that means, other than it is deeper than his just taking upon himself our sin. I have much to ponder here, but it’s the latter half of this verse that commands my attention tonight. Paul doesn’t say that Jesus gave us righteousness, but actually makes us righteous. He doesn’t merely give us what we don’t have; he makes us what we are not.

Something we possess can be taken away; what we are cannot. It may not always appear that we are the righteousness of God; the doctrine of Original Sin tells us that even our best actions are tainted by our innate sinfulness. What this verse addresses is not our standing before men, but our standing before God. I have no righteousness of my own; it is all Christ’s, but because I am “in him” (a phrase Paul loves, indicating our spiritual position before God), when God looks at me, he sees his Son. The very righteousness of Christ has not only been imparted, it is (again in Paul’s words) imputed. My spiritual bank account was empty; Jesus deposited his righteousness in it, filling it up. Even better, he infused his life and righteousness into me. 

A good friend, commenting on his carpentry skills, once told me, “Putty and paint make us what we ain’t.” Jesus Christ did that one better when he claimed me for his own, and I am deeply indebted and eternally grateful.

My Stupid List

February 8, 2020

When my wife has severe pain or nausea, she has a tendency to pass out. It thankfully doesn’t happen often, but it did occur last October when she was at a benefit dinner with some friends, one of whom is a nurse practitioner who insisted she go to the hospital. Fast forward three months, multiple doctor’s visits, an EEG and MRI of her head, and we know nothing more than we did last fall. So when fasting for a procedure last week caused her to pass out in the bathroom in the middle of the night, I wasn’t too worried. After a couple minutes of calling her name, she began to come around, and after another twenty minutes, she was able to stand and be helped back into bed. The procedure went well, no problems.

Her close encounter with the linoleum has proven to be a different story. According to the chiropractor, the fall knocked all sorts of things out of place in her back and neck, and she is quite sore. And sporting a pair of black eyes. 

Last night at our dinner group, she had nothing but praise for me, telling our friends how kind and patient I have been while caring for her through her ordeal. Praise I hardly deserve, as she would be happy to point out today. This morning, we drove to Grove City to visit our granddaughter there, and on the way she again brought up the subject saying that if there were one word to describe me, it would be “kind.” She then asked what one word I would use to describe her. Sadly, things went downhill from there when I said, “Raccoon.” For anyone interested, adding the word “cute” doesn’t improve the situation any. My being the driver at that point probably was fortuitous, in that she couldn’t do me any harm without endangering herself also.

I am thankful tonight that what could have been a serious incident has turned out to be just an inconvenience, and that I have a wife who understands my inappropriate humor and loves me anyway. I cannot imagine being married to anyone else; they’d still be looking for my body.

Unity

February 7, 2020

“Verily I say unto you, Whatsoever ye shall bind on earth shall be bound in heaven: and whatsoever ye shall loose on earth shall be loosed in heaven. Again I say unto you, That if two of you shall agree on earth as touching any thing that they shall ask, it shall be done for them of my Father which is in heaven. For where two or three are gathered together in my name, there am I in the midst of them.” —Matthew 18:18-20 KJV

“Behold, how good and how pleasant it is for brethren to dwell together in unity! It is like the precious ointment upon the head, that ran down upon the beard, even Aaron's beard: that went down to the skirts of his garments; As the dew of Hermon, and as the dew that descended upon the mountains of Zion: for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even life for evermore.” —Psalm 133:1-3 KJV

We Americans have a fascination with the myth of the rugged individualist; that sole person who against all odds achieves by himself what others have been unable to accomplish. We have an Abraham Lincoln whose single-minded determination to preserve the Union propelled him to become the Great Emancipator. John F. Kennedy’s vision for our country inspired us to send men to the moon years after his assassination. Ronald Reagan’s belief in our country reversed the myopic and defeatist malaise that had infected the previous administration, ultimately sealing the doom of the Soviet Empire. Today we have the Donald, who love him or hate him, has by the force of his will transformed the entire political landscape. There is enough reality in the power of a lone single-minded individual to accomplish miracles. What we tend to forget is the ability of these intensely focused individuals to surround themselves with a team that enables them to do what they do. Without a unified team around them, these people would merely be a flash in the pan, shooting stars that flame and burn out. Unity is at the heart of all accomplishment.

Recently I became involved in counseling a couple having difficulties with their eldest son. Early on it became apparent that although they both love him deeply and want what is best for him, they are not in agreement as to how to reach their goals. I fear that their deepest heartfelt prayers will remain unanswered until they resolve the disunity between themselves. Jesus’ words are significant. “Where two or three agree...it shall be done for them.” Disunity hinders our prayers. 

The psalm takes it a step further. “How good and pleasant it is...to dwell together in unity...for there the Lord commanded the blessing, even life forevermore.” This is no casual surrender, no abdication of one partner. Dwelling in unity is deeper than that. Such unity is hard won. But it is highly honored by God; through it he doesn’t add a blessing. He commands it. Sadly, even in Christian homes, the unity is often a mere surface coating, a veneer of accommodation that fails to meet the muster of God’s Word. It is possible only through deep prayer and commitment, through sacrifice and hard trial. But it yields the most delicious fruit, feeding the souls of all those residing in this circle of blessing. 

Floor Fasting

February 6, 2020

Tonight’s gratitude journal is straightforward and simple. Linda had a procedure today that required fasting for 12 hours prior. Fasting and Linda shouldn’t be mentioned in the same sentence. When she gets up in the morning, her feet have hardly touched the floor when she’s ready for breakfast. It doesn’t have to be a lot—an English muffin with peanut butter, coffee, and juice is all she needs, but she does need it. And if she doesn’t drink plenty of water through the day, she gets leg cramps that have literally put her right to the floor. 

So let’s see—12 hours without food or water. In the middle of the night she gets up to use the bathroom. A minute or two later I hear a thump in the night. I call up the stairs. No answer. Knock on the bathroom door. No answer. Open the door to see her lying face down on the floor, out cold. It took a couple minutes to revive her and another twenty to get her where she was able to stand and back into bed.

The procedure went well; no issues, and by the time it was over, they had gotten enough fluids into her that she was navigating pretty well. No nausea, which for her is a small miracle. She doesn’t do anesthesia well, but had no problems today. So tonight I am thankful to have her tired, but well except for looking like she was on the losing side of a boxing match from her visit with the linoleum. We are at the age that we think about what the future holds for us. We don’t particularly care about what is in store as long as we can face it together.

Contentment

February 5, 2020

“LORD, my heart is not haughty, Nor my eyes lofty. Neither do I concern myself with great matters, Nor with things too profound for me. Surely I have calmed and quieted my soul, Like a weaned child with his mother; Like a weaned child is my soul within me.” —Psalms 131:1-2

Every so often in the seven years I’ve been focusing on gratitude, it feels like somehow I’m shirking my duty. People all over the country have been obsessing for the past three years over our president. The Democrats can’t stand him, and take every opportunity to castigate and vilify him, while his supporters vow to stand by him no matter what. Our elected representatives have chosen to abdicate the business of representation in favor of internecine fighting that is so partisan that it almost amounts to open warfare. The media fuel the frenzy and we are now in the beginning stages of an election cycle that has all the earmarks of further polarizing the country, if that is even possible. 

Through all this, I find myself steadily withdrawing from the fray, narrowing my focus to the things I can at least somewhat control. As the psalmist says, “Neither do I concern myself with great matters.” Therein lies the nexus of my occasional twinges of guilt. Shouldn’t I be concerned with such weighty matters? Is it an abdication of my civic duty to let others slug it out? 

Whenever I begin to wander down that rabbit trail, I return to this psalm. I learned long ago that posting things on Facebook is merely preaching to the choir. People who agree with you will hit “like,” while those who disagree want to pick an argument with you. No one’s mind gets changed because everyone there is actually Faceless. We aren’t interacting with real flesh and blood people, with the result that we abandon civility. After all, we don’t have to face that person we’re trash-talking at work the next day.

So I write about the blessings I’ve noticed, the human kindness I see, the beauty all around me, and sometimes about my struggles with faith—not great and lofty matters, but they are what matters to me. George Washington Carver once prayed that God would reveal to him secrets of the universe. “God said to me, ‘Why not try the peanut? It’s more your size,’” he recalled. He went on to discover scores of uses for the lowly peanut. I can’t even claim that, but I can claim a calm soul and a peaceful heart, the product of directing my attention away from the worries and cares of this life and towards the heart and mind of Christ.