The Problem With Pain

Early Sunday morning a gunman opened fire in an Orlando nightclub; killing 49 people.  This horrific act of violence has brought pain to a nation of people.

And we have a problem with pain...

Some say it was the guns.  Some say that it was gun control.  Some blame it on "radical Islam."  Some blame it on a person.  Some on the system.  Some believe it could have been prevented.  Some say more is on the way.  

In the end it really doesn't matter.  No, not really.  But America is sad, and furious, and frustrated, and looking...looking...looking.  

We are looking for something to blame.  It's not enough to blame this shooter; because...well he's dead.  And even if he weren't, there would never be a trial big enough, and there would never be a punishment strong enough to extinguish the pain.  This hurt is so much bigger than a gunman; and so we are looking...needing...desperately searching for something to blame.

And so for the next few months there will be interviews and opinions...there will be blogs.  Authorities will question the wife.  People will stand on platforms of gun control, immigration, 2nd Amendment rights, hate, tolerance, persecution, and justice.  Orlando will trend, and then the tide will slowly go out.  We will not forget the people who were killed.  But soon, Sunday night will be numbered with the other unspeakable tragedies that systematically horrify the haunts of our minds.

And after all is said and done.  After the medical examiners, examine.  After the detectives, uncover.  After the judges, judge.  And after the memorials, remember.  After the politicians leverage.  After the advocates, advocate.  And after the moon and the sun chase each other around earth a couple of hundred times.  And after the tide slowly goes out.  Nobody...not you...nor I...not anybody, will be closer to peace of mind, or the satisfaction that lies therewithin.  

And that's the problem with pain...

The problem with pain is that it doesn't make sense.  There is no sense to be made.  The problem with pain, is that in our pursuit for some semblance of understanding, we so often go 'round and 'round until we are sick and dizzy with the illusion of meaning.  But there is no meaning.  The illusion is smoke and vapor.  There is no meaning, or purpose, or understanding to pain.  And so in the end it really doesn't matter.  No, not really.  

Ecclesiastes 1:14 – "I have seen all the things that are done under the sun; all of them are meaningless, a chasing after the wind."  

We understand cause and effect.  This gunman decided to do something purely hateful.  People are dead, and suffering, and in pain because of it.  But there is not understanding in it.  Scientists can walk us through the step-by-step process of a growing cancer cell.  But they cannot explain why this child grew a tumor in their brain, while their friends are playing in the hot sun, and shagging pop flies over their summer break.  We know how a funnel cloud forms, but we can't explain why a tornado rips the path of destruction it chooses; making precision cuts, like a enigmatic surgeon.  And the burning ember...the problem at the center of the questions, the interviews, the vigils, and the 'round the clock coverage–it's not a problem of what, or how, or when, or who.  The problem of pain is the question:  Why?  And the problem with pain is that there is no answer.

Pain has no answer.  Pain has no meaning.  Pain has no satisfaction, or end, or handle in which to grab it.  Pain is relentless, and ruthless, and always by your side like a shadow to nag you.  Pain is the splash of cold water; waking you up to the fact that you are still in this–the fallen world.  The truth is we don't really know what to do with pain, because we weren't created to experience it.  God created you and me to live with Him–a place of paradise.  A place where He would be our God, and provide for our every need.  Pain is as alien and incredibly alarming to our senses, as the news of Orlando scrolling up my news feed.  Pain is an anomaly.  And it's incredibly frustrating to acknowledge that fact, when so many people desperately need to heal from this.  We will forever in this life be in pursuit to ease, relieve, and stamp out pain.  And to a greater or lesser degree we will.  But we can't kill pain.  Pain so easily finds a bed in many houses...with so many rooms.  Pain will continue be–without fail–a part of this fallen world.

but

shhhhh - let me whisper something in your ear...

Pain has a real problem.  Jesus has put an end to it.  Jesus has dealt the deathblow.  Pain is currently running on the death spasm of adrenaline.  Pain is dying–pain is already dead.  Pain just doesn't know it yet.  Jesus Kingdom is coming–His Kingdom is already here.  Through His death and Resurrection Jesus has destroyed pain and death forever.  The new and everlasting regime is just about to take rule.  Jesus has done it all.  Jesus has brought meaning to the meaningless.  Life to the lifeless.  Hope to the hopeless.

It's ok to continue to try and make sense of things.  It's ok to listen to all sides of the story.  It's ok to listen to the talking heads on TV.  It's ok to listen to the candidates standing behind their suits and American flag pins.  It's ok.  It's ok for me and you.  But it is not our burden.  We don't have to have an answer for pain.  We don't have to talk the pain away.  It is not our burden.  Jesus has taken on the burden of pain...taken it upon His own shoulders.  And He walked out of the arena as the victor!  As the tide slowly goes out on Orlando, and there is nothing left to say.  Join me in empty hands, and eyes scanning the horizon for Jesus–the solution for pain!

Until then...let us relieve pain.  Relieve pain wherever we can, however we can, to the highest degree we can, for as long as we possibly can.  Lessen somebody's pain today, and every day.  And wait for the Lord of Lords who walks over the corpse of pain, like the doormat leading the way to His Heavenly Kingdom!

May God be with the families and loved ones of those injured and killed in this horrific shooting Sunday morning. 

Gender Transfusion

I find it interesting that transgender "issues" weren't trending until recently.

It was not until transgender entered the homes of the populace through Bruce/Caitlyn Jenner, that many became interested.  It was not until transgender entered the bathrooms that many became fixated.  In each case the transgender "issue" has become more and more intimate, at least seemingly, to the lives of people living in our country because it has hit closer to home–closer to potty–and that's where we feel vulnerable.  In many cases, people didn't know there was something to worry about, until they heard there was something to worry about.  In some cases, people have been preparing to give their opinion about the transgender "issue" for years now.  And in very rare cases, the ultra savvy of our day have been riding the cultural wave for a while now, and have projected the transgender segment as the new frontier of "human rights."  Whether this transgender "issue" is new in the trending news feed of your mind, or you've been considering it for a while–pro, con, worried, intrigued, or none of the above–I'm here to tell you the transgender "issue" is not the most important issue surrounding sex and gender identity that we should be concerned about.

Anemic 

Regular, Old-Fashioned, Heterosexual–this is the kind of sex we should be most concerned about.  Men as men, women as women–this is the kind of gender we should be most concerned about.  It is here that we are most sick, it is here that we are lacking, it is here that the vast majority of We The People find ourselves, and it is here that the real battle is raging–regardless of what your Facebook feed, or favorite news anchor says.

But, but, America is going down the tubes because of this latest headline, and this trending trendy trend.  It has to be true, because it's different, and weird and aberrant...and it's safe.  Well safe for me.  Safe for most around me.  It's safe to run up the flagpole as America's problem; because it's not my problem–and you reader, I'm willing to bet it's not your problem either.  So it's Americas's problem.  The potties at Target, the rights of so and so people, about so and so topic.  It's fresh and trending and most importantly it's about SEX! It's SEX, and Bodies, and IDENTITY–it even has a more alluring name than "gender", trans-gender–and so it's not only the most important issue about human identity, it's the most important issue in our country.  It's the falseness to One Nation Under God.

But that's not really true...

It's a clever ploy, a sly deception–it's crafted by the enemy, and it's sopped up like stew prepared for the masses.  Please shake your head in disgusted admiration at the impeccable job satan has done in running interference for the most insidious aberration of sex and gender–the slow decline of manhood and womanhood.

We have departed from our own identities.  Not all of us, not totally, not all the time.  But the general swarm of things have urged us to leave antiquated notions of "man" and "women" behind.  And so we have men who do not act like men, women who do not act like women.  And if your blood is boiling at the notion that there is such a difference and we should be absurd enough to define it; well then step on up to the witness stand–you're my EXHIBIT A.  And I know you well, because I'm EXHIBIT B.  We've grown to believe this together.  The truth is, almost all of us have been raised to think this way.  We've been raised with a truth, and herded by an assumption.  The truth–men and women are equal (this is true).  The assumption–men and women are the same.  Equal is not same.  Don't believe me?  Ask the cup of flour, that you accidentally substituted for a cup of sugar in your from scratch cake recipe–and wave bye at his mischievous face as you through it in the trash.  But the notion has been bred into us.  We have been inculcated by it's teaching.  In many ways the uniqueness of men and women has been stripped from the very substance of our DNA.  It has been decreasing from our created identity.  And so we are living in want.  Living in need.  Sometimes living without.  We have been sick for a while now.  Your created identity that has made you, you, has at least in part, been slowly stripped from your blood.  We're anemic–and the problem is not transgendered, the problem is that we need a gender transfusion.

2 or 3 units...

Ok witnesses step up to the stand–I'm already here waiting for you.  How often have we failed in our lives because we are not the men God has called us to be?  How often have we failed in our lives because we are not the women God has called us to be?  You may balk at the idea of calling...but let's at least agree about God's creating.  Look down...God created you as something.  It was completely and utterly out of your control.  But in a desperation for control we jut our hands out trying cling to the notion that we choose gender...we identify our traits.  Let go, the burden is His, not yours.  Come slum it with us created things.

We need a gender transfusion.  We are 2 or 3 units shy.  Men who do not love and lead in the way God created them.  Women who do not support and nurture in the way God created them.  And what I am saying is that these 2 things are not mutually exclusive; in fact, they have everything to do with each other.  Because the inherent differences between male and female have been stripped away–Because the idea of "masculinity" and "femininity" have been stripped away–Because man-ness and woman-ness has endured a ferocious assault in our day–we have been led, dragged, passionately enticed away from the internal, untapped power that lies within us: Our Created Identities.

So God created man in his own image,
in the image of God he created him;
 male and female he created them 

–Genesis 1:27

And what a horrific cycle it is to behold.  Our men rendered handicapped to love and to lead because the respect and support that they need is not there.  Our women rendered handicapped to respect and support because the love and leadership that they need is not there.  This the symptom of our anemia.  This is the byproduct of our fear.  Fear to say equal and different, when equal and same is the stew that has been prepared for the masses.  And it has worked.  It has worked because the latest headline, and this trending trendy trend.  It has worked because we believe the 1% who want to use our potties garner 100% of our attention.  It works because we cannot face the truth.  The war is not against this or that interest group, this or that sexual attraction, this or that court ruling; the war is against ourselves.  The war is against our own gender.  The war is against our created identities–and I am saying that this finds genesis in the marriage relationship

However, let each one of you love his wife as himself, and let the wife see that she respects her husband.  Ephesians 5:33

It all begins in the marriage relationship and ripples out to every single relationship that we human beings experience and hold dear.   It is the relationship between men and women in our homes, in our marriages.  The love and respect that is shown to one another and reciprocated daily is the most powerful relationship that shapes our society–it is the same relationship that is compared to Jesus and His Church.  It is the love and respect that we are afraid to show, that we are afraid to "owe" one another.  It is the craving for unwavering love and leadership that God built into Eve and her daughters.  It is the craving for respect and support that god built into Adam and his sons.  And for men(speaking on behalf of men), the fuel that gets the love and leadership engine fired up is the respect and support of our wives.  And for women, the fuel that gets the respect and support engine fired up is the love and leadership of their husbands.  Love and respect–it complements–so that the more men experience respect and support the more fired up they are to love and lead; and the more women experience love and leadership, the more fired up they are to respect and support.  It's harmonious catalyst of our making; because of sin, because of denial of our created selves, because of selfishness, it is the poison that infects the watering hole as it ripples out.

The war here, in us, in our marriage, in our faithfulness to live as a Christian man and woman.  In our faithfulness to love and respect.  In our faithfulness to be a man, to be woman, to be what God created us to be.  It is in all of our complete submission to Christ.  It is in forgiveness.  It is in being brave for our sinful husbands to Love us and Lead us like Jesus loves and leads the church.  It is in relishing in forgiveness when he does not.  It is in being brave for our sinful wives to Respect and Support us like the Church respects and supports Jesus.  It is in relishing in forgiveness when she does not.  Finally, it is in being a created thing–being a man or woman, saying they are distinct and specially made; and it's in being brave to say so, even when so and so says they are not.

Side Effects

Transgendered people, transgendered "issues" did not plop upon the face of the earth within the past few years.  The issue has been trending because of some high profile transgender identities, and some decisions made about potties.  However, I firmly believe that what has everybody so fiery this or fiery that, or even so fiery disinterested, is the haziness of our own identities; our own genders.  We are wrestling in U.S. of A. with the idea of what a man and woman should, should not, and most importantly should not be labeled to be.  And so we just don't be.   We vacillate between the rise of faux masculine beards, and dudes who don't know how to hold the door open for a women, or give up their seats for a lady.  We vacillate between the rise of feminine form enriching yoga pants, and stay at home Moms shamed for their vocation.  It's a hard time to be a man or woman.  We are groping for the meaning and significance.  Is it a coincidence that the picture of masculinity, Olympic stud Bruce Jenner, is the poster child for this manifestation of gender insecurity in us all?  No, it is not.  And yet it is just a side effect.  Being man and woman–especially in the context of marriages–this is the battleground of sex, gender, and identity.

And Jesus is coming to redeem manhood and womanhood.  He is coming to restore all things. He is coming to restore identity to created things.  Thank you Jesus for your created things.

Living Between the Lights

I'm obsessed with C.S. Lewis' small book, The Great Divorce; and if you're a Christian you should be obsessed with it just the same.

What is the great divorce?  It is the complete separation of Heaven and Hell.
What is this book about?  A group of passengers living in hell take a bus ride to the very outskirts of heaven–just outside,–and are given the opportunity to enter into heaven through the guidance of spiritual guides.  The book is the eyewitness account of these interactions.

Partial

Among the many visual beauties this book doles out, and the one that will unlock the following post, is that of a partial light.  Not quite day, not quite night...the playground of The Great Divorce is a partial light.  The travelers in Lewis' story commute from Hell; a place of partial light–with it's sickly weak luminescence–to the outskirts of a heavenly mountain–a place of partial light–as the sun is threatening to juuuussstttt peak over the the mountaintop.  And so in this reality before Jesus' final coming to rule and reign over all things, the sun is setting on the inhabitants of hell, and rising on those coming into Jesus' Kingdom.  Lewis' does a better job of explaining:

...But ye can get some likeness of it if ye say that both good and evil, when they are full grown, become retrospective. Not only this valley but all this earthly past will have been Heaven to those who are saved. Not only the twilight in that town, but all their life on earth too, will then be seen by the damned to have been Hell. That is what mortals misunderstand. They say of some temporal suffering, 'No future bliss can make up for it,' not knowing that Heaven, once attained, will work backwards and turn even that agony into a glory. And of some sinful pleasure they say 'Let me but have this and I'll take the consequences': little dreaming how damnation will spread back and back into their past and contaminate the pleasure of the sin. Both processes begin even before death. The good man's past begins to change so that his forgiven sins and remembered sorrows take on the quality of Heaven: the bad man's past already conforms to his badness and is filled only with dreariness. And that is why, at the end of all things, when the sun rises here and the twilight turns to blackness down there, the Blessed will say, 'We have never lived anywhere except in Heaven,' and the Lost, 'We were always in Hell.' And both will speak truly."

Wow!  I read Lewis' words many different times before the gravity hit me.  The weight, the force, the beauty in these words is this:  it's true!  These words are true.  Jesus has come.  Jesus has died.  Jesus has ascended.  Jesus is coming quickly.  Eternity has already begun.  *take a second* Eternity has already begun.  And how has it begun?  With a partial light.  You know the light.  You experience the light.  You are well acquainted with the light.  You feel it's presence.  You know it's warmth upon your face.  You grope outwardly in it's absence when you feel you need it most.  You breath the light in your through nose; it expels from your mouth.  It's the comfy jeans, the sound of your spouses voice.  The light is the ins and out, the ebbs and the flows.  The light is the agent that numbs, and the catalyst that prickles and stirs up.  You know the light.  Your eyes have adjusted to it.  It everything that you see and walk through around you.  The light is yours, and mine, and every other living creature's.  The light is real, it's here, it's perceived, and also forgotten.  The light is in the world.  A solo entry into the vaults of here and now.  The light abides...and it is partial.

Connotations and Men

Partial light is a waypoint between darkness and light.  The partial light rules the present.  It is what we experience when we watch the news, unlock our phones, get to work, get a long voicemail, and come home from the doctor.  The partial light is there when we open our eyes.  It is the good and bad of this world.  It is fun and panic.  It is pleasure and distress.  It is good news and bad news.  The partial light is graduating from college the same day your neighbor 2 blocks up and 3 houses over hears of the tumor growing inside their pancreas; darkness and light crashing in vigorous dashes of reality all around us.  The partial light is reality.  It's real, and C.S. Lewis knows it.  And so he writes of it in a fanciful tale of some travelers on a bus ride; experiencing partial light in both entry points to heaven and hell–and everywhere in between.  Lewis is not brilliant because he knows the partialness of light in this world.  This quote above is not compelling because it recognizes the partial light.  The compelling brilliance of Lewis' words lies in acknowledgment that we live between 2 great realities:  Eternities of Heaven and Hell.  The light is partial for everyone.  But for the believer in Jesus, the partial light is from a sun that is barely rising to it's glory, ascending over the horizon.  And for those who are apart from Jesus' salvation, the partial light is the twilight of a sun's light setting to the depths of it's own committal to the grave.  And so for you, and for me, for us all–this reality is either heaven for the taking, or hell in the making.

So here and now good and bad come to us all.  Happiness and shame are our garments.  Aches and achievements are the beatings of our hearts.  Lewis' assertion is this:  The upcoming glory of the Kingdom of God is a life of a deliberate sunrise to those who belong to Jesus.  And the impending separation from God's Glory is the slithering life of a creeping sunset to those who are not in Jesus.  One more time; we all experience the partial light–the good, the bad, the ugly, and the gorgeous–but all of these things are interpreted by either a sunrise or a sunset.  Everything you perceive or experience in this world is either a symptom of your decomposing body, or the growing pains of a  coming Body Like His.

Mounds of Glory

Thus far, this illuminating trail of thought put forth by Lewis is helpful in attributing the things that happen in our life to a cosmic shuffle:  Those living in glory, to a glorification.  Those living lives separated from God, to a total separation.  But what puts Lewis' little book into the stratosphere for me is what happens next:

The good man's past begins to change so that his forgiven sins and remembered sorrows take on the quality of Heaven: the bad man's past already conforms to his badness and is filled only with dreariness. And that is why, at the end of all things, when the sun rises here and the twilight turns to blackness down there, the Blessed will say, 'We have never lived anywhere except in Heaven,' and the Lost, 'We were always in Hell.' And both will speak truly."

The truth and pervasiveness of our impending reality, both for those to heaven and those to hell, is that living in the partial light is not all that it seems.  For Lewis, the pain, and suffering, and even the forgiven sinfulness in the life of those in Jesus, takes on a sort of glorification...a preparation for the eternal light.  In the same way, the things of this life, even the seemingly beautiful and glorious, for those outside of Jesus, takes on a corrupt dreariness.  And so those bound for heaven are already living there.  And those bound for hell are already living there.  Bravo Mr. Lewis!  But what if it's true?  Like really?  What if it's true?  It would change everything about our everyday life.  It would change everything about the partial light we now live in.  Yes the good and the bad would still come our way.  But the marks of pain, and suffering, and sin-sickness in this life would be transformed.

The bumps into mounds of glory

The bruises, into violet patches of prestige

The cuts, and scars, and stretch marks, into the stripes of valor

The stuttering mouths, into patient lips

Misshapen desires, into childlike content

The thing you suffer with [yes that thing], into the unique trinket adorning you–set in place by the Creator

Everything about you would be transformed...and I am saying that it has!

Living Between the Lights

In the same way, the weak, partial light of this world for those outside of Christ, shines light on the truth this life's sufferings.  For those riding into the twilight, even the most impressive glories of this life, are whimpering pronouncements of a graveside committal to the deep.

So why Lewis?  Why does this matter?  It all sounds so very set in stone.  Except...it's not.  If you are reading this right now–you are living between the lights.  We are living between the lights.  We are between the dusk and dawn.  We are right smack dab in the partial light of life.  Who we know matters.  What we do, and believe matters.  And what we say and do with Jesus with those we know really, really matters.  And faith in Jesus matters most.  As long as we live between the lights, we have an opportunity to be a part of Jesus mission  As long as we live between the lights we have the opportunity to change dusk to dawn in the lives of those we love.  As long as we live between the lights we have the opportunity to say of the ickiness, and pain, and suffering, and tears, and hate, and hurtfulness of this life, you are being transformed into some future glory.  Although the pain and suffering is very real, the partial light only reveals partially.  The fullness is coming.  The light of eternity is coming.  The authors pen is on it's final stroke.

Wage war against the light that is being snuffed out for those around you.  Rejoice in the sun that is juuuusssttt about to peak over those mountains, as we await Jesus' coming.  Because, when the light and the darkness are separated, and Heaven and Hell's Divorce is complete, the glorified will say, "we were always the light of the world," and the separated from God, "we were always in death's shadow." And both will have spoken truly.

Why Christians Should Watch The New Star Wars Movie...

I am a fan of the Star Wars movies.  I just am.  I liked Star Wars before episodes 1, 2, and 3 came out.  I like Star Wars when my brother and I would forget to rewind the VHS tape for the next time–we cursed our week-ago selfs for doing that to us.  I like Yoda's sage advice.  I like Han Solo and Chewy's friendship.  A maverick pilot and a walking carpet traipsing through the galaxy–fun times, and warm feelings.  I like how incredibly annoying Luke Skywalker was at the beginning of A New Hope...but then after time, how cool he was when he waltzed into Jabba the Hutt's lair, cloaked in black.  I like the dread I felt when I saw the evil Darth Vader and heard the unsettling music that led me to the essence of the dark side.  Yes, I even liked Anakin Skywalker, clone troopers, double-ended lightsabers, and the pod races of the first triad of these movies.  I will be watching Star Wars: The Force Awakens.  It will not be on opening day, but it will be soon.  And if you're a Christian you should watch the new Star Wars movie too.

Yes, if you are a Christian you should watch the new Star Wars movie.  And not just the new one, you should watch all of them if you haven't already.  Ask me why.  Why, you ask?  Well, not because Star Wars is a fad right now.  Not because Star Wars is a covert analogy for the Christian narrative.  And definitely not because it's another desperate attempt at staying relevant in the culture.  No none of these things.  errmm...I see I haven't answered your question.  Why should every Christian watch the Star Wars saga?  Because it's a good story.  It's a great story.  It's a story that takes us to beautiful scenic locations: The swamps of Dagobah, the snow covered Hoth, the desert Tatooine, and my favorite–the forest of Endor.    It's a story that takes us through land, sea, air, space, and even Death Star.  It's a story with a myriad of interesting characters: Jedi Knights, Padawan apprentices, Queens, Princesses, Bounty Hunters, Storm Troopers, Evil Emperors, Droid companions, fuzzy Ewoks, and the ever favorite of mine...Master Yoda.  Star Wars brings the themes of – Good and Evil, prophecy, oppression, courage, honor, manipulation, love, greed, hatred, romance, loyalty, betrayal, and much more to the forefront of the human experience through a fanciful cast of characters, and a deeply human exposition.  

How could a green puppet, and opening title crawl elicit such an feel of excitement and emotion?  Because it's a good story.

And you should be interested in a good story.  Unfortunately storytelling in our culture...in our society...in 2015...well its going the way of the dinosaur.  We find out information through clips and phrases.  We discover the world through tweets, news article subject lines, memes, and hashtags–though that seems to be getting sick and dying (hopefully).  As our elders are passing away, and Gens X,Y, and Z have their shot at planet earth, we discover the world too often in 140 characters or less.  Do to instant media transfer, instant information transfer, and instant entertainment, we struggle to stay engaged.  We struggle to read to depths a story can go in our novels.  We struggle listen to speakers unless there are perfectly planned and placed re-connection points.  And if you've made it to this point in the blog post, I bet that a lot of you have struggled to keep reading.  That makes you normal.  It makes me normal.  I am the same way.  We struggle with story...because it's not what our brains are training for these days.  We struggle with story because there is so much media, news, entertainment, and choice being thrown our ways everyday, we have no choice but to get the bite size piece of whatever it is.  We need the bite size blurb.  We need the bite size news.  We need the bite size portion of life; because life is slowing down for no man, woman, or child these days.  Our ability to story tell has been abridged and weakened by the unstoppable influx of facts, opinions, news, and entertainment.  All the while, our inability for story inhibits our effectiveness in receiving and relaying the depth, and vividness of a great big HD world...we're stuck in standard definition.    

And yet, story still matters.  Story will always matter.  God has made us with story in our heart and soul.  Stories like Star Wars matter.  Stories like "To Kill a Mockingbird" matter.  Stories like "The Odyssey" matter.  Stories like "A Midsummer's Night Dream" matter.  The more we can involve ourselves with good stories, and good story telling, the more capable we are of being good story tellers.  You can't write unless you can read.  You can't tell a story unless you can listen to a story.  And unless you involve yourself with good story, you won't stick along long enough to be shaped by it.  And you need to be a storyteller.  You must story tell.  You absolutely must.  Must.  Because you have the greatest story to tell.

As believers and followers of Jesus we have the absolute greatest story to tell the world.  It's an ancient story that runs the gamut of human emotion, experience, circumstance, and existence before God.  We have the completely true tale of creation that has been thrust into the agony, despair, sickness, darkness, and death of sin.  The story of a people who God has spoken to in many and various ways throughout the history of this world. The story of a God who against all man made reasoning came down into the story.  To be a part of the story.  To be a part of the creation.  To dwell with us again.  A Jesus Christ who did the most courageous, hero-like act the world has ever seen; dying on the cross with the weight and sin of the world on His shoulders.  And the amazing, yet true account of the Resurrection not just of Jesus Christ, but a resurrection that echoes forward into time and eternity that includes you and me!  That's right.  You are part of the story.  How eerily awesome that we have the opportunity to tell the greatest, and only lasting story the world will every know, while we ourselves are living the story here and now!  Story matters, because God's Story matters.  It not only matters to us Jesus followers, but it matters to a big, wide, world who is a part of the story whether they know it or not.  This season of Advent, we recognize that we are a people in waiting.  That's why I like the season of Advent so much.  We are always in advent.  Because we are always waiting for the 2nd Advent, the return of Jesus Christ.  We wait with eager longing and expectation for absolutely sure and certain arrival of Jesus.  Until that day we wait.  Anticipating.  Watching.  Excitement. Ya know...a lot like waiting for the next installment of a beloved Star Wars story that we grew up with.  God's story is even better...because it's our story.  Be a good story teller.  Because we have the opportunity here and now...the only opportunity for all eternity, to bring His story to life for the unknowing actors on this created stage!

Christians.  Go out and watch the new Star Wars movie!

More in a cup

My love affair with coffee started many moons ago.  But it was never just been about coffee–there's always been more in a cup.

When I was young I wondered what was so special about the coffee my Dad–who I was dying to emulate–drank each morning.  Every day...without fail...ceremoniously.  Looked good.  Smelled good. Tasted...bitter.  But black is the way Dad drank it–and so black it was for me.  Who knew that a kid barely big enough to hold up a deer rifle could develop a taste for the bitter?  Well I guess Dad did...but only if my Mom stayed blissfully out of the loop on this my first grown up beverage.  And so coffee entered my life the way most things do–slowly at first, thoughtlessly putting my tastebuds under house-arrest.  Coffee it's you–it's you–it's always been you.  But it's never been just you.  There's always been more in a cup.

It wasn't till college that I found a utility for the black stuff that I faithfully continued to ground out and slurp down.  But coffee could not only be enjoyed but harnessed–and put to work for me.  Coffee was my Lieutenant in the field of all-nighters, early mornings, and energy boosts.  And coffee it was you who was there when I studied geography, when I traveled to the nucleus of cell and back, when we explored American colonies and History made us.  It was you and me in those days, but it was never just us.  There's always been more in a cup.

And when the "ology" of my thoughts turned from Psych to Theo...it was coffee who was beside me as I let God out of the box.  Coffee was my Captain of the sea of Divine Transcendence, Hypostatic Unions, Councils, Definitions, Footnotes galore.  Coffee it was you who was there when I studied elocutionary force, learned to write, appreciated His Bride, prepared to proclaim, when we explored the participle and it was all Greek to us.  I thought my plate was full in those days–If I had only known.  The plate got fuller, but it was the cup that stayed the same.  There's more of us now, but its not quite enough.  It's not just you.  There's always been more in a cup.

And now we've grown a little older and things have changed.  You're still there.  And I'm still here.  But it hasn't been about us.  It's been about the Lord of yesterday, today, and tomorrow.  The life He has given me.  And the eternal one He has prepared.  But for now, you and I will continue our trek.  Not just you and me, but 1+  Thank you Lord Jesus...There's always been more in a cup.

Cellar Door

Gotta ring to it

Somebody once said–and some big shot linguists have agreed–that the most beautiful sounding words that can be placed next to each other in the English language are "cellar door."  The beauty is not in the the meaning of the short phrase, but rather, simply how the sound waves are pushed from the mouth, past the lips, and to the hearers ear.  Look it up on Wikipedia sometime you can become proficient on the subject in 2 minutes–or have Drew Barrymore teach you in the movie "Donnie Darko."  In my book it's a least kinda true.  I mean it definitely doesn't sound ugly or boring.  There are words that are definitely more fun to say.  And there are words that just plain sound better together.  But according to at least some, "cellar door" is the most beautiful combination.  Oh...and when you say it, I believe your supposed to say it with an English accent.  So not: sell-er dore...but sell-a-doe <with the faintest vapor of an "r" at the end.  Say it a couple of times–it sure is puuuuuuurrrrty!

I like words.  Words are important.  The right words are glorious.  The almost-right words are like taking a big ole' drink of completely flat coke, when you were expecting something a little more stimulating.  (More on this in another post).  Words are very powerful.  Even in a society and culture that has made words cheap, easy, overly accessible, over exposed, and spread way to thin, words sink their roots deep into the clockwork of the human mind.  The roots are so deep, words still matter, even in the midst of the truncated, butchered, bludgeoned and hash-tagged, non-sensical stuff that gets tweeted 140 characters at a time.  Words still matter...I have to hold on to that thought–It's what helps me sleep at night.

As believers in an invisible Father God, a Jesus who has gone to prepare a place for us, and a Holy Spirit who blows in, and all around the hearts of men and women, words are what we have.  Words are what we major in.  So it's good for me to think about big, fat, heavy, expensive words, that mean a lot.  I like to think about beautiful words.  I like to think about rhetoric, pregnant pauses, repetition, and proclamation.  I like to think about funny words, scary words, exciting words, and intriguing words...

but most of all I like to think about Cellar Doors.

Press Play, and Repeat

Ok so maybe you're not into the whole phonaesthetics thing.  Good, most people aren't.  But you have your own words.  You know...those words.  The words that keep coming together for you.  Those words that have to come together for you.  They are the words that have followed you around for quite sometime.  Words in the distance.  Words waiting in the wings.  Words on deck.  They are the words you keep around on a leash.  Not because they belong to you...but because they are the only words that speak when you shake them.  They are the only words that turn a phrase when you are drowning in the sea of meaningless chatter.  It's the bubbles when the world has gone flat.  

Cellar door.  Cellar door.  Not now.  Tomorrow.  Or before.  Those words are pretty.  But your words aren't Cellar Door.

But you and God know your words.  They are words that come in pairs and trios, and 4's and 5's.  They are the words that the Holy Spirit speaks into your ear when you can't help it, can't stand it, can't do it, can't deal with it.  They are your words...and they are the most beautiful sounding waves on your spectrum.  Words.

It won't be like this forever

You're not that different

I've forgiven worse

You're my child

No more pain

I haven't forgotten you

I'm bigger

Can't wait to hug you

It's almost time

I bet you have words.  Jesus died for these words.  He died for your words.  They don't belong to you...but they are words that speak when you shake them.  They don't belong to you...but Jesus likes to share.  These are the beautiful words.  These are the expensive words.  These are the words with weight and luster.  These are the words that stand the test of this time.  Keep a close watch on your words!  Don't let them wander away.  They are expensive words, and the world will try to take them away.  I like words.  The right words are glorious.  And your words...you know those words...those are the words of your soul's content.  

Jar of Hearts

Christina Perri sings a song called "Jar of Hearts."  I like it.

If you care to listen to it, you can find it here.


The thief

The song is good.  But what I like even more–what I cannot get out of my head is the image.  A bloody jar of hearts, makes for a vivid picture on the dusty shelves of my mind.  And like pretty much all of my writings, sermons, ideas, and above knuckle-dragging-level thoughts, an image is the basis for what you are about to read.

Christina is fed up in "Jar of Hearts."  Her person on the other end is selfish, inconsiderate, damaging, and plays some sort of a game; stealing as many hearts as they can get away with.

And who do you think you are?
Runnin' 'round leaving scars
Collecting your jar of hearts

Well Christina is not going to let them get away with it any more.  What Miss Perri is describing is a thief.  A thief takes something from somebody else unfairly, and to the damage of the original owner.  A heart, beating and bloody, or symbolic of "love" and infatuation–doesn't belong to other people.  It is not a play-thing.  And as most 20-something, Romeo and Juliets finally figure out, romantic love, and the feelings of another person must be handled delicately–it's not right to be selfish with another person's stuff; especially the intangibles!  I don't know who this thief of young girls hearts is, but he should stop.

I can't get the image of the jar of hearts out of my mind.  Good.  Seems like the Lord is not letting me off the hook.  There it is again–a big blood-smeared jar of hearts.

I'm not interested in lovey-love-love hearts.  I mean, I am, but not enough to write about it.  I am VERY interested in what lies in the heart of mankind though.  I am interested because there is another heart-thief out there.  He's not James Dean cool; but he's slicker than snot on a door knob.  He's smart, and crafty, and tenacious, the absolute gold-standard of hatred and evil, and he's been at this a lot longer than you.  He will absolutely not stop–he will never stop–until he has stolen your heart for good.  Your heart does not belong to him; but don't tell him that because–he thinks it does.  He won a small victory in the Garden of Eden, and now he walks around chest puffed out, head too big to handle.  He is Satan–and he currently has a great big bloody jar of hearts.

Who does he think he is–runnin' 'round leaving scars...collecting his jar of hearts?  He thinks he's God; and he's all to happy too have you imbibe the same lie.  Stubborn hearts.  Egocentric hearts.  "Spiritual but not Religious" hearts.  Calloused hearts.  Intellectual hearts.  Tolerant hearts.  They all go perfectly nice on his mantle.  He's a well traveled thief, with an eclectic taste for what's not his.  One with a great big bloody jar of hearts.

Another thief

There is another thief.  He is a heart-thief just the same.  Except he is taking back from the nasty little claws of Satan that which already belonged to Him.  He's collecting a jar of hearts, and closing the gaping whole in your chest.  Like a thief in the night He is coming quickly to put the heart-thief away forever.  Taking hearts back, and making them whole, He is filling His jar.  The broken hearted.  The black hearted. The faint hearted.  The heavy hearted.  The strong hearted.  The kind hearted.  It's all a big bloody mess of a jar!  And why shouldn't it be?  He is Jesus–and his jar is big enough for all the big bloody hearts of His creation.

Friends, in the words of Johnny Cash, keep a close watch on that heart of yours.  Your heart belongs to Jesus, and Jesus alone.  Your heart is too valuable to be in the enemies jar.  Your heart is spoken for.  Your heart is not on the market.  Your heart is not single and ready to mingle.  Your heart belongs to Jesus.  Jesus has a good and glorious place for you and your heart.  Your heart is a kingdom heart.

Good for you Christina.  We all have something to learn.  I keep a close watch on this heart of mine.  The evil heart-thief will not get away with it much longer.  Jesus says, "the thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy. I came that they may have life and have it abundantly"–John 10:10
There is Jesus.  He is coming back.  He is coming with His Kingdom.  He is coming soon.  He is coming with the piece in our chest that has been missing all of our life.  He is coming to put the last piece of us back into place.  He is coming.

And He is coming with a great big bloody jar of hearts