Hey, you. With the bomb strapped to your chest. I love you.

We read it so often, I'm afraid it's gotten too easy to fail to recognize the power of the scene. To misunderstand the significance of a man forgiving his murderers, even while he is being murdered. And yet, that's exactly the scene set before us in Luke 23.

And when they had come to the place called Calvary, there they crucified Him, and the criminals, one on the right hand and the other on the left. Then Jesus said, “Father, forgive them, for they do not know what they do. (vs 33-34)

Right here, in this act of Divine forgiveness, is where we learn two very important things about Jesus Christ. First, that He really did come to create a path between us and God; that He was so focused on that cause and mission He was not only willing to die for it, but still loved those who killed Him over it. Second, we learn He has not commanded anything of us that He was unwilling to do. 

Early in His ministry, Jesus gave a sermon. This sermon not only detailed what He expected of each of us, but told us how we would accomplish it: because it set the tone for His entire ministry. 

“You have heard that it was said, ‘You shall love your neighbor and hate your enemy.’ But I say to you, love your enemies, bless those who curse you, do good to those who hate you, and pray for those who spitefully use you and persecute you, that you may be sons of your Father in heaven; for He makes His sun rise on the evil and on the good, and sends rain on the just and on the unjust. For if you love those who love you, what reward have you? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet your brethren only, what do you do more than others? Do not even the tax collectors do so?  Therefore you shall be perfect, just as your Father in heaven is perfect. (Matthew 5:43-48)

We will have enemies. This is a fact of life. There are people on this planet who hate you only because of where you happen to live, the nationality you happen to have grown up in. They may not even know you, but they hate you. And there are people who hate you personally. We are faced daily with a choice: do we hate them back? Or do we love them?

And I don't mean just saying the words. It becomes all too easy to say you love your enemies. But to actively love. 

Looking at my own life, I wonder how often I pray for Al Qaeda. Not just the organization, but for the extremists, the hate-filled individuals who make up the organization. How many times have I asked God to quiet their hearts, and fill them with an understanding of His Grace? 

How often do I argue with or mock the misguided children of Westboro Baptist (the infamous funeral protestors), rather than pray for them to know and understand the love of Christ? 

When it comes to those with whom I strongly disagree politically or religiously, do I spend more time formulating an argument, rolling my eyes, and wishing they'd just shut up... or praying that they spend each day fervently seeking God; praying that He be with them in their troubles, and for the health of their families?

When it comes to those who hate and hurt me, the question is, do I hate back? Or do I love, as Jesus loves, enough to forgive?

Happy Willing To Lend A Hand Day

Possibly the most important lesson I'm having trouble teaching my children is the importance of helping. We don't help because it's our job to help. We don't help only when we get something out of it, or because we're simply cleaning up after ourselves (although this last would be great if done more often, too!). Maybe one of the reasons it's so important to me that my kids learn this lesson is that I've met adults who seem to have not learned it.

You know some of those people: they're the men who watch football while their wives fold laundry, do dishes, make supper, and carry in the groceries. They're the people who see a person in need standing on the street corner and cluck their tongues in disgust. They're the people who leave a church because they aren't "being fed," even though they've done nothing themselves to feed others. They're the ones who complain the loudest about whatever problems are happening in church, but have yet to hold a paintbrush, or work with the children, or make themselves available to assist on any level beyond that which they might consider their personal "ministry," assuming they even have one.

But as always, we needn't look to other people to provide an example of selfless, helpful love. We can look to God. If you want to see love in action, picture Jesus: exhausted, emotionally and even spiritually drained. He's been preaching. He's been calling disciples. He's been healing. And we know from Mark 5 that when He heals, he can feel the power flowing out from Himself (verse 30). And yet, called to the bedside of a dead girl, He will still summon the strength to command her to awaken.

When He left this earth physically, He sent His spirit -- who He named "Helper" (John 14:26) to aid us. Think of it! The God of the Universe -- the God who made Himself flesh and allowed himself to be crucified, to take upon Himself the punishment designed for us, in retribution of our sins -- would continue to help us, even now!

We're a needy people. Thank God we have a Loving Helper.

Nothing More Than Peelings

I like bananas. I mean, I like fruit in general. But I like bananas. The thing about bananas is, they're nutritious.
They taste good. And they're so versatile. You can eat them plain, cut them into your Cheerios, put them in grilled peanut butter sandwiches, bake them into bread... you get the idea. Hundreds of ways to enjoy the deliciousness that is the banana.

But you have to peel it first.

(Now, before the Whole Foods movement launches an attack, yes, you can eat the peel. But I'm talking about the fruit itself.)

To get the best use out of the banana, you have to remove the tough, bitter outer layer. Only then can you get to the wonderful, versatile fruit I've described.

Humans often have a similar shell. A peel, if you will. Created by circumstance: hurts, betrayals, fears -- these peels protect our soft, squishy reality from the harsh world outside. Like the banana peel, this outer layer is tough. It's bitter. And it renders us mostly useless.

The truth is, you can't be the most you -- you can't be everything you could be -- as long as you stay inside your peel. Until you expose the real you, until you offer up yourself -- including the soft, squishy fruit in the middle  -- for God's use, all you can be is an unpeeled banana. The peel is there to help you ripen... but stay inside and you simply rot, no good to anyone.

Romans 12:1 I beseech you therefore, brethren, by the mercies of God, that you present your bodies a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.

 If you want to love authentically, and to be loved authentically, you have to get beyond the outer layer, expose the true You, and look for it in others. Just be gentle: we bananas bruise easily. 

Christians and Sponge Cake

I love sponge cake. Well, I love all cake. But I do like sponge cake a lot. One of the things I like most is how it absorbs the flavor of whatever you put on it, making it something entirely new. Strawberries, for example. Make a strawberry shortcake, with a nice strawberry sauce and whipped cream, and watch as your sponge cake turns red as it soaks in all that flavor.

Man. Now I want strawberry sponge cake.

But there's a point to this. Just as a sponge cake absorbs that flavor and becomes a new treat (and let's face it... as delicious as it is alone, it is a bit plain), people too absorb what's around them. We soak in the flavor of those with whom we surround ourselves. We begin to reflect the culture around us.

Maybe that's why Proverbs 13:20 says "He who walks with wise men will be wise, But the companion of fools will be destroyed."

We are not unchanged, unaffected, by the people around us. We are changed, for the better or worse. This is doubly so when it comes to our spiritual lives. A life touched by Christ cannot be unchanged; we must allow ourselves to soak in His influence through the Spirit, being renewed and changed into something new.

And do not be conformed to this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind, that you may prove what is that good and acceptable and perfect will of God. (Romans 12:2)

How are you flavoring your life? With the love and fellowship of fellow believers, learning and growing in Christ? With the renewal of your mind by the movement of the Spirit of God within you? Or by the foolish ways of this world?

A Life Worth Having Lived

My wife likes to giggle at my gray hairs. Particularly because those random grays seem, for some reason, to grow so much faster than the rest of my hair. This is especially true of my beard, where I've simply stopped pulling them out, because when I do, they simply come back and bring friends. I used to tell my kids I had named each of my gray hairs after one of them, except, now that I have more grays than children, that, too, is a losing battle.

As I've grown older (though I am still reasonably young), I've learned quite a bit about life -- at least, I like to think I have -- and about growing older. I've learned that aging isn't by itself a noble thing. Everyone ages: good or evil, wise or foolish. Where I once believed the old saw that "wisdom comes with age," I now understand that foolishness knows no expiration date.

Proverbs 16:31 says,

The silver-haired head is a crown of glory,
If it is found in the way of righteousness.

As a kid, I was made to understand the first part of this statement. Most of us were. "Respect your elders," we were told. But, as we read on, we see that age itself is not an indicator of worth or worthiness. Age is an indicator of the time we've spent on this planet. The value of our lives lies in what we've done with that time. If we have pursued God, and the Way of His Will, we have lived a life worth living. We have not wasted our days and years. We have made the most of what He has given us. If we have done that, we have earned those gray hairs in the best possible way, and they reflect the glory of a life well lived. 

I believe this is what Paul meant as he wrote to Timothy and reflected on the end of his own life. 

For I am already being poured out as a drink offering, and the time of my departure is at hand. I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, I have kept the faith. Finally, there is laid up for me the crown of righteousness, which the Lord, the righteous Judge, will give to me on that Day, and not to me only but also to all who have loved His appearing. (2 Timothy 4:6-8)

A life given to God is a life worth living. And a life worth having lived.  

How Are Church Members Like Mosquitos?

I hate mosquitos. Those tiny little vampires aren't content to merely steal little bits of your life; they have to
make their presence known. First, that grating buzzing sound, the high-pitched whine of the air moving through their wings. The welts and itching after. Some even carry disease -- making them not merely annoying, but potentially deadly!

Of course, come to think of it, haven't we all known church members like that? Maybe some of us even are those people, without knowing it! Siphoning the life blood of the church, little by little, buzzing annoyingly in the leaders' ears, and spreading disease from one congregant to the next. Gossip and slander, however well-intentioned, is a poison that threatens the health and even life of every church in America.

Somebody even now may not realize I'm talking to him or her. After all, they think, I don't gossip. I don't slander. I just have certain concerns about certain people that I feel, in all good conscience, absolutely must be discussed among other Christians, entirely out of earshot of the person about whom we're talking (because we wouldn't want their feelings hurt).

Psalm 101:5 says you are a slanderer. A poison-spreading mosquito, ripe for the swatting.

Whoever secretly slanders his neighbor,
Him I will destroy;
The one who has a haughty look and a proud heart,
Him I will not endure.

Examine your heart -- and examine your actions. Then, humble yourself before God, beg forgiveness of both Him and those you've wronged. 

Who's Flying This Thing?!

Have you ever seen a license plate that says, "God is my co-pilot?" While I get the sentiment, I've always been a touch dismayed by the implications. When you fly, the Captain, the guy in charge, is the Pilot. This is the person whose job it is to get you safely from Point A to Point B. This is the person who tells the passengers to buckle up (or instructs the flight crew to do so), because it's about to get bumpy.

If God is your co-pilot, you're in the wrong chair.

The co-pilot is a backup. There in case of emergencies. Or if the pilot has to make an unscheduled pit-stop. And very often, that's exactly how we treat Him. As long as things are going well, we might not even talk to Him. Or if we do, it's a quick "please" do this or "forgive me for" that. Then things get rocky, and we consider switching the controls over, but always ready to take it back in case God gets it wrong.

You know, the more I think about it, "God is my Co-pilot" may be one of the most faithless sentiments I've ever heard.

Many are the plans in the mind of a man,
    but it is the purpose of the Lord that will stand.
Proverbs 19:21

Fear, Roller Coasters, and Learning To Let Go

I love roller coasters. I spent a good chunk of my childhood afraid of heights, until my parents took us (my sister, brother, and I) to an amusement park. I made the determination, on that day, to find and ride as many tall rides as they had to offer. It worked! I started small and worked my way up, until I got over my fear of heights and became an avid fan of the rides. I visited that park and others, riding every new roller coaster they built. They built them taller, and I just got more excited to try 'em out.

I discovered, in a sense, that the answer to both my fear and my cure was found in faith. See, I'm not somebody who likes letting go. I don't like situations in which I'm not in control. I get carsick if I'm not driving. I've never even been tempted to drink to excess, or to even try drugs, because I find the very idea of losing control over myself abhorrent. My fear of heights was not a fear of heights; it was a fear of falling, and having no control over my descent.

My cure, ultimately, was a rational one. I knew the statistics on roller coaster-related deaths. I knew that, if I belted myself securely into one of those cars, I could rest in the knowledge that many had gone before me, many would come after me, and that, ultimately, the engineer knew what he was doing when he built it. For the few terrifying seconds of my first ride, I made the decision to put my faith in the engineer who built the roller coaster. And after not dying the first time, I learned there was joy to be found in letting go.

My journey of faith in God was similar. I learned to trust the One who created life, who designed this journey. I learned to trust the Engineer who designed the Universe. And I learned the joy to be found in letting go and just enjoying the ride.

Commit your way to the LORD; trust in him, and he will act. Psalm 37:5

If it wasn't for failure, I'd have nothing to be proud of

Failure is possibly humanity's greatest common denominator. We've all failed. We're all going to fail again. Failure is a part of life, and a vital key to success. Everyone from Michael Jordan to Thomas Edison has extolled the virtues of failing.

In the Disney film Meet The Robinsons, the Robinson family celebrates each failure, recognizing it as the next step to success. And this is all great, and there's a lot of truth to be learned from all this. But the joy in failure goes even deeper.

And lest I should be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelations, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I be exalted above measure. Concerning this thing I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me. And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:7-10 - Emphasis mine. Obviously.)

I, like Paul, can celebrate failure because it is a reminder that I need God. I need God because I am too small to save myself. Because I am too broken to heal others on my own. Because I am too weak to serve Him in my own strength. 

And I rejoice in this need for Him, just as I rejoice in my need for my family. It is this need that brings us together and binds us. It is this need that becomes relationship, and love, and joy. Need is the basis for community itself, and because it is, it is a thing to be revered. I rejoice in failure, because in our weakness we find our need for one another, and recognize our need for a Savior.

Like Filet Mignon For the Soul

For everyone who partakes only of milk is unskilled in the word of righteousness, for he is a babe. But solid food belongs to those who are of full age, that is, those who by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern both good and evil. (Hebrews 5:13-14)

The writer of Hebrews compares the knowledge of God to milk and solid food. The basics, he refers to as milk, while deeper understanding -- that of a teacher -- he calls solid food. This is apt, and not unprecedented in Scripture. After all, David writes, in Psalm 34:8, "taste and see that the Lord is good!" 

I've pointed out before, the beauty of Scripture is that, with every reading, there is more to learn. But so often, I find it hard to discipline myself to do so. Sometimes, it even feels like a chore. Which is weird, because when I actually do take the time out to read it, it is a real and honest joy to dig in and learn more about the God who created me, saved me, and loves me. Yet there is this whispering in my ear that I don't have time today. That I'll do it when I get around to it. How spoiled I have been, that I can read the very Word of God any time I want, but find excuses to refuse! 

There are places where the Word of God must be smuggled in, and every page is lovingly pored over and savored before being passed on to the next hungry soul. But here I am. I'm like a rich man, refusing to eat his filet mignon, even as the poor around me must struggle just for every taste of milk or crumb of bread. 

God, that I would savor this meal You have placed before me! That I would understand the privilege it is to never be without Your Word, and that I would not only sup often, but then pass the plate!

Foundations

“Therefore whoever hears these sayings of Mine, and does them, I will liken him to a wise man who built his house on the rock: and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it did not fall, for it was founded on the rock.
  
 “But everyone who hears these sayings of Mine, and does not do them, will be like a foolish man who built his house on the sand:  and the rain descended, the floods came, and the winds blew and beat on that house; and it fell. And great was its fall.”

And so it was, when Jesus had ended these sayings, that the people were astonished at His teaching,  for He taught them as one having authority, and not as the scribes. (Matthew 7:24-29)

Obvious fact about building houses: you can't build the foundation last. Now, I'm neither an architect nor a contractor, but it does seem obvious to me that, before one sets about building a structure, the first thing he wants to do is make sure the land upon which he is building won't be washed out from beneath it. 

Matthew 7 presents the conclusion of Jesus' sermon on the mount. He begins the message in Chapter 5, with the beatitudes, discusses the condition of the heart, and tells us how to relate to God. He explains God's love for us, and reminds us to share that love with one another. He shows us that there will be those who claim to know Him, but reminds us that those who truly know Him will be those who reflect the reality presented during the sermon itself. It is then, after all that, He says, "Therefore, whoever hears these sayings of mine, and does them, is like a wise man who built his house upon rock." 

Often, we have this idea that what Jesus preaches in Matthew 5-7 is somehow the end game; that these things are the ideal for which we strive. But in fact, these things are foundational to a right relationship with God. Nobody builds a house first and then sees to the ground on which it is built. Well, nobody wise, anyway. 

In the same way, our relationship with God and others isn't merely an outcome of Christianity. It is the foundation on which it is built.

Have you read the Sermon on the Mount lately? Have you compared your foundation to the one prescribed there? If not, let me encourage you: it's not too late to rebuild.

Wounds

This is a hard world. A world where, from a young age, children learn to hate without provocation, while others learn to either fight back or keep their heads down. A world where our childhood fears and troubles grow right along with us into adulthood. A world where some folks are out for themselves, stepping on anyone they have to in order to reach the top of whatever ladder it is they're climbing, and where some folks are fighting just to survive another day, week, year.

It's been said nobody gets out of here alive; certainly none of us will escape unharmed.  Wounds -- physical, emotional, spiritual -- are the price of admission, and the price will be paid by each of us.

We read in Scripture about a Great Physician, who heals the sick, give sight to the blind, makes the lame walk, gives life to the dead, and forgives sin. Yet, somewhere along the way, many of us have decided that some wounds run too deep to find real healing.We have this idea that we, somehow, are uniquely troubled; that we must find a way to heal ourselves before we present ourselves to the Father.

But not only do we not need to fix our own brokenness, the truth is, it simply can't be done. Jesus said,  

Blessed are the poor in spirit,
    For theirs is the kingdom of heaven.
Blessed are those who mourn,
    For they shall be comforted.
Blessed are the meek
    For they shall inherit the earth. (Mt 5:3-5)

He's not looking for people who have it all together; He wants those who understand they don't. It doesn't matter what you've done in the past, who you were, or who you think you are. It doesn't matter, to Jesus, what others think of you, or how others treat you. He made you. He loves you. He sacrificed Himself in one of the most painful ways possible just to bring you near to Him. And you think that, somehow, you are too broken? If Jesus can raise the dead, and make saints of prostitutes and tax collectors, He can handle your baggage, too.

You are broken... and that's exactly where you need to be. Now, seek healing.

A Great Big Flaming Log

It was on this date in 1981 that something kind of embarrassing happened in Indianapolis, Indiana.

The guys in an Indy firehouse were just hanging around, perhaps waiting for dinner, when the all-too-familiar bell sounded. A fire! The firefighters rushed to grab their gear, checking to be sure all was properly equipped. They jumped into their trucks, and with one last check of the address, headed out!

When the group arrived at the address, they were likely a little confused by the complete lack of smoke. Or of anything, in fact, that even remotely resembled fire. A false alarm. Somebody accidentally pushed a button, or flipped a switch. Ah, well. Such things happen -- more often than anyone would care to admit. The firefighters left, perhaps even relieved to not have to battle another fire, and headed home...

... to find the station ablaze!

Very often, Christians are like these Indianapolis firefighters, alerted to the sin in somebody else's life, battling to rescue these poor saps from whatever perceived wrongdoing, even while we ourselves are burning. 

Jesus warned that, when it comes to spiritual well-being, it's best to be sure your own house is in order.

And why do you look at the speck in your brother’s eye, but do not perceive the plank in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Brother, let me remove the speck that is in your eye,’ when you yourself do not see the plank that is in your own eye? Hypocrite! First remove the plank from your own eye, and then you will see clearly to remove the speck that is in your brother’s eye. (Luke 6:41-42)

I notice that Jesus didn't really make mention, here, of motivation. So often, when confronted with the admonition of Christ to not judge our brothers and sisters, we protest that we're really just concerned! After all, are we not also told to speak the truth in love? Yet, whether it is out of Christian concern, or (as is most often the case) a tiny, all-too-human internal desire to show ourselves just a little better than another, it makes no difference to Jesus' point. Before we can hope to "guide" our fellow Christians in dealing with the sin in their lives, we must be sure we've dealt with the sin in our own. 

Notice, by the way, that Jesus isn't saying to never point out the folly in another person's spiritual walk. He didn't tell us to never offer correction, in love, to another Christian. But before you go rushing off to fight the fire in somebody else's life, be sure to turn your stove off first.