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

Fear not

If you were to meet a disciple of Jesus what would he tell you about him?  To clarify, if you were to ever meet one of the 12 Disciples of Jesus what would he tell you about Jesus? You know, one of the special 12, those inner 12; one of those guys who lived beside Jesus, walked beside Jesus, ate with him, camped out with him, worked with him, laughed with him, cried with him, learned from him, for over 3 years.  Those guys; if you met one of those guys what would they tell you about Jesus?

Chances are that they would tell you a number of things.  They would tell you stories that followers of Jesus have known and love for years.  They would probably also tell you things you’ve never heard before.   You will not meet one of the 12 this side of the Kingdom of God.  And yet their Gospel accounts live on.  And according to what has been recorded, Jesus said, “fear not”…a lot

He said it in sinking boats.  He said it when sending his followers out into the world.  He said it when he himself had more to fear than anyone else.  He said it when he was departing from his disciples to “prepare a place” for all who believe.  He said it when his disciples saw him walking on the water.  He said it when Peter, John, and James watched Jesus Transfigure.  He said it a lot more.  Easier said than done Jesus.  Fear not?  How do we do that with all there is to fear in this life? 

Jesus doesn’t point to you when he says fear not.  He doesn’t ask you to look in the mirror.  He doesn’t ask you to muster up your strength.  He doesn’t ask you to do anything.  In fact according to Jesus, fearlessness has nothing to do with you at all.  It has everything to do with Jesus.  Fearlessness for Jesus is not closed eyes.  Fearlessness is not sitting buried–head in sand.  Fearlessness is not foolishness; nor is it pulling yourself out of a world full of dangers, toils, and snares.  Fearlessness is completely, totally, utterly and alone...life in Christ.  It is a life that in all the scariness and real danger of this real world, that continually stands behind our great big Savior Jesus Christ.  A great big Savior that went first–like a big brother.  He is–He's our big brother.  And this big brother has won for us the right to be in His family...to be a Child of the Heavenly Father.  And He is fierce–He is fearless in our place.  Even when the REAL scary shadows creep–the evilness of Satan, and Sin, and Death that eye has not seen, and tongue cannot tell.

In the Revelation given to John of Christ in His Kingdom Jesus says this, “Fear not, I am the first and the last, and the living one.  I died, and behold I am alive forevermore…” –Rev. 1:17-18.  Jesus has died and raised back life in order to say to you, “fear not!”  I have overcome death, I have overcome sin, and I have overcome any fear in life.  The creator and sustainer of all things seen and unseen says, fear not; not because of who you are, but because of who I am.  And because he is the God of the universe, we know he is able to what he says.  He will receive all who believe in him, into his Heavenly Kingdom.  A place where, “He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away”—Rev. 21:4

Lines

Paint

A couple of guys have been hard at work making sure that the lines in the back St. Paul parking lot get repainted.  All of our lines need repainting in fact.  Lines at our church–lines at our Academy, they could all use a fresh coat.  Lines are good.  They turn open an patch of asphalt into a parking lot.  Lines divide.  Lines make boundaries.  Lines make parking spots.  Parking spots that some people in some places fight over.  It's funny how a thin layer of paint on the pavement can turn nothing into something.  Something that can be personal (my spot).  Something that can be coveted (if it's close enough to the entrance).  A thin layer of paint on the pavement makes people–almost universally, realize something: lines define.


–Ish

I'm a Millennial.  I'll just accept it–although at first I fought it like the first gulp of Robitussin at the outset of a cold.  A Millennial, means I'm about 30 years old or younger.  The kids born in the last 15 years–I don't know what they're called.  I am told that being a Millennial has permeated every part of my being.  That probably has a larger foot in truth, but also a tip-toe in doubtfulness.  I am also an old Millennial, and the baby of my family as well.  That means I was raised and influenced by older generations in the most formative times of my growing up.  Nevertheless,  I admit I am a Millennial.  And in so doing, I recognize that I grew up in a world of ish.  My generation, and especially this being of society we are currently living in is full of ish.  It's the freedom of choice.  It's the consumerism of our culture.  It's the marketing to my generation.  Ish is the one of the biggest tell-tale signs of virtues around us.  The anthem marketed to my people growing up is that you can be whatever you want to be, do whatever you want to do, and accomplish whatever goal you set before you.  And here is the kicker–here is what makes everything different for my people–being whatever you want to be includes...being ish.  Be exactly whatever mosaic of a person you want to be.  Be what you like.  Whatever you like.  As much as you like.  Leaving out whatever you don't like.  But whatever you do–at all costs, be unique.  It has made ish people.  Conservative-ish, Liberal-ish, Religious-ish, Christian-ish, Traditional-ish, Contemporary-ish...ad infinitum.  Dig if you will a picture:  My people sitting at Starbucks.  We have macbooks glowing while writing notes in a moleskin notebook.   We listen to throwback music pumped into our ears from our Quad-core smartphone.  We put vintage filters on our Instagram pictures taken with 8 megapixel cameras.  And if you are really, really cool you might even be wearing shoes that look like they were dug out of a yard sale 40 years ago, a waxed mustache, the necessarily anachronistic hat, glasses that look like you should be in a control tower in Houston smoking a cigarette and trying to get Apollo 13 back into earth's atmosphere–all while feverishly trying to consummate your WiFi connection.  It's ish.  It's not new or old.  It's not this or that.  It's ish.  Ish gets to pick and choose.  Ish gets to mix and match.  Generations, ideologies, doctrines, expectations, fashions, formative narratives, worldviews–all of it, you name it, it's all fair game.  So grab your tray, pay the lady, and go nuts–because the buffet is set!  My people are ish.

2 Things:  First,  I am not complaining about ish.  I am not complaining about Millennials.  I am not complaining about my people.  Second, I am not saying this generation is special or unique.  We do not stand out.  We are not exemplary, or bad, or this or that.  There is just the flavor.  Every generation has it's own flavor.  Ish is just a flavor.  Days will continue to come and go.  Millennials have come–we are in fact already going.  But I do talk about ish for a reason.  I am very interested as to what is touted as good, right, honorable, and virtuous by Millennials today.  After all my people are the ones already running the show in society.  A person as a mosaic is favorable.  Picking and choosing things–any thing is favorable.  Ish is favorable.


Whateva

All of the above stated has made a nice warm comfy bed for longtime coming and expected guest.  The bringing down of lines.  What a time to live in for bringing down the lines.  Lines that divide.  Lines that separate into categories.  Lines that define.  They are all getting sick and dying.  And boy are things moving fast!  You better look fast if you want to stay on top of things.  Caitlyn Jenner has received the Arthur Ashe Courage Award from ESPN for making the transition from man to woman–Bruce has become Caitlyn.  NAACP chapter president Rachel Dolezai has had mixed responses about her identifying as black although she is a white woman.  Not everyone has stood behind these individuals in their decisions, but there has been a somewhat positive view surrounding these folks by a lot of voices.  There has definitely been a positive view of trailblazing in general.  Most importantly these instances have bred conversation.  And conversation is the beginning of most everything.  "Let us make man in our image..." #trinity

The lines are coming down folks.  They are fading away like Michael J. Fox at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance in Back to the Future.  The lines don't mean as much.  Genders, roles, relationships, race, sexuality etc. etc. etc.  The lines are being erased.  Well sorta.  Kinda.  In a way.  The lines are being erased.  But like a child wielding a oversized gum eraser we have made a mistake.  We have went to deep.  We have erased too much.  The lines are gone.  But so too the pain–so too the backdrop.  And with the paint gone the nothingness–the void of the paper has made new lines.


New Lines

New lines are being drawn.  Lines that are being born as we speak.  Lines conceived in the lust of ish.  The lust to pick.  The lust to choose.  The lust to decide.  The lust to self define.  The lines are different, but they are visible as ever, definitive as ever; they are as intentional as ever.  The new lines are not the old.  But they have been born out of the intentional erasing of old.  Erase the lines that inhibit choice.  Because its all about the choice, all about decision, all about creating your ish.

Here is the truth:  God makes people.  God makes all kinds of people.  They are not the same.  He makes men, male.  He makes women, female.  He makes black people.  He makes white people.  He makes brown people.  He makes all the colors in between (like me half brown / half white).  He makes them of same value, same worth, with the same amount of Godly love.  But the point is GOD made us.  We do not get to pick and choose.  "Separate but equal" is not right.  We should be together and equal.  But being together and equal doesn't mean we have the ability and fluidity to move between the one thing out of our hands–the events surrounding our birth.  God is the creator and we are not.  And yet the ultimate ish, the highest degree of our human autonomy, the tippy-top of our hubris as human beings is that we can pick and choose those few things that are out of our grasp.  It is the last great battle of mankind being their own god–deny the created.  Deny the tangible.  Deny corporeal truth in front of you.  These are the lines that are being erased.   *see above Caitlyn Jenner and Rachel Dolezai.  The Millennials have made the bed–Gen X, and Boomers can stay the night.   You are less of what you are.  You are more of what you decide to be.  You are more ish – because ish is better.  And if you don't believe that people can decide.  If you think God made not just who we are, but how we are, for a reason, intentionally, with thought and care that totally surpasses our temporary and small existence–then you have just crossed the line.  The new line.  The line found at the bottom of the erasure of the old lines.

Crossing the new line is unforgiving.  Crossing the new line is unfair.  It calls those who believe that God designed partnership for a man and woman–homophobe.  Even if there is no phobia or hatred to be found.  It calls those who think God made men and women, as such, for a purpose and reason–backwards.  Even though they are formed by a book and narrative that is so up-to-date and relevant that it even reveals the future of things yet to happen. #nothingnewunderthesun  I never thought being a backwards homophobe would feel like this!  It's so not what I expected.  Because I don't hate.  I am not phobic.  Because my Lord Jesus also told me to love everyone (John 13:34-35).  Yes, that part is formative too!  I reject the line that says I am, what I am not.  I know that God has been in the creating business a longer than man has even been on the earth, and a LOT longer than ish seemed so sexy.  I know that He is creator and we are creation.  I know we do not get to pick, choose, decide, some things.  I will not be pigeon-holed.  I reject the line that makes me a backwards homophobe.   And if you interpret God's Word the same way–if you still love everybody God has made, because it is God who made them–you should reject that line too!


Some lines are legitimate, and some aren't.  And deciding the lines that need to be erased–well that's the hard job.  I'm glad it's not my job.  But isn't it all of our jobs?  Should the rebel flag come down over South Carolina?  In one breath I think yes.  In another breath I think I'm not so sure.  *sigh*  Who gets to define if that flag is the boundary between racism and not racism?  Right now I guess it's whoever has the biggest platform.  I wish wisdom was a platform.


End of the Line

I am sitting here chuckling to myself.  Not lol-ing.  But I'm actually having a real human chuckle.  (the folks in the office are probably thinking that I am finally losing it).  I am remembering that one Sunday I watched a 3 second video clip on repeat for no less than 30 minutes.  What a weirdo right?  Well, not really.  I'm sure plenty guys and gals around the country watched the same thing.  The clip was a game defining challenge of whether a player broke the plane of the end zone in a great NFL game.  In that game–in that time, that line that marks the beginning of the end zone really matters.  That line and what side the player was on, made all the difference.  All lines in sports really matter from time to time.  But that line really, really matters–frequently.  But after that 4th quarter, that line doesn't matter quite as much.  And later that day, that line mattered even less.  And at the end of the season, that line mattered even less.  And when that field in that stadium was transformed into a stage for a concert, that line mattered not-at-all.  It was torn up, erased, removed.

These lines that I have been talking about matter now.  Here, now, in this time, on this plane, these lines really do matter.  But it will not be so forever.  Far transcending the transformation of a football field into a concert stadium, Jesus is coming to transform our...well our everything.  Thy Kingdom Come!  Jesus come and bring your kingdom with you.  Transform our bodies, and lives, and sin, and hate, and love, and our everything else into what only you can imagine it to be!  On a new plane, a new stage, the only line that neither you, nor I, nor anybody else could bring down will be erased forever.  That is the line that separates us from God.  The line put up on that day of rebellion when the creation decided we would do the line drawing around here!  The line that went up when we decided we would be our own god.  The line that put us–every one of us–on the wrong side of God's presence, and Will, through every breath of our life.  Guess what?  That line is going.  That line is fading.  We are at the Enchantment Under the Sea dance and THIS line will not be restored.  The closer Jesus draws near the more this hideous lines fades.  Jesus is coming.  He's closer.  Closer than He has ever been before.  His return is more imminent than it has ever been.  Fade, fade away line.  Bring it on Jesus.  Thy Kingdom Come!

Through the Viewfinder

The Real Thing

C.S. Lewis...man that guy could write.  If you haven't read "Out of the Silent Planet" or "Perelandra," you should.  You really need to.  Like it's almost imperative for you.  You might as well add "The Great Divorce" to that list.  Anyway, in Perelandra one of the overarching themes, which happens to be truth, is that God's Kingdom takes any goodness, sense of identity, or reality, and amplifies it into something so much more beautiful, vivid, and awesome, that it is almost entirely inconceivable to us.  In other words the goodness, truth, and love in this world that we perceive is really just a vague, dim, pixelated, representation of what the creation was actually intended to enjoy.  And so in Perelandra our hero visits another world that has not fallen into sin.  It is a good world.  And aside from the presence of the Satan figure on Perelandra (Venus), it is a perfect world.  Things are still functioning as God intended them.  There is an Adam and Eve figure.  They don't just have control over the creation–they love the creation.  And the creation loves them.  Huge fish fighting over who gets to serve as the aquatic ride to the adjacent island.  Every piece of fruit the characters eat is the best they have ever had.  Ransom, the protagonist is the only human creature who knows what sin is–because he's from earth.  It's weird, because the long talks with the Eve character show a considerable disconnect between the two.  Ransom is baffled that the Eve character has never wanted something that God has not provided.  She does not know discontent, or greed, or envy, or hatred, or any of it.  She can't understand Ransom's probing questions that are sin-laced.  It becomes clear that even his basic understanding of the functioning of life is wholly infected through and through with effects of sin.  Ransom looks at her in some way like a child.  And yet he craves to have what she has.  It is incredibly beautiful way to live.  Mr. Lewis also writes about similar things in The Great Divorce.  A bus ride to heaven–what's not to love?

That sizable jaunt was laid out to come to this point.  The un-falleness of Perelandra was real.  It was more real.  It was more vivid.  It was brighter.  Quickly, it became evident that Perelandra was what it was supposed to be like.  Same with Adam and Eve's earth.  For the short time (could have been days, weeks, years, or what I think a LONG time) that Adam and Eve lived on this earth before the fall into sin, that was their reality.  It was as God created it.  Sinless.  Wantless.  Painless.  Deathless.  It was full of life.  That's the real thing.  Ain't nothing like the real thing baby! 


Horseshoes & Hand Grenades

Now you and I know there is good stuff in this world.  There is a lot of it.  I can show you some if you'd like.  But the good-est of good, the most beautiful, the most kind, the best of the best in this world is just counterfeit.  It resembles in some small way the original beauty–but slightly.  It's not really that close.  Not good enough to be horseshoe.  Not good enough to be a hand grenade.

The View

I thought about the good ole viewfinder recently.  Filming during our Academy graduation, I found myself dialing things in through the viewfinder. Watching closely...it was finally perfect.  And yet I continued to watch the next few minutes of the  service through the viewfinder.  It was dim, it was pixelated, it was small, and it was hard to see.  For a few short minutes it was the reality. It was the show. But it wasn't. It was wasn't reality. It wasn't the show. It was counterfeit. It was just a cheap representation. The viewfinder's job is to make sure you are getting the subject of the video into frame-thats all. It's not the clarity of the video being recorded. And it's certainly not the real thing. No the reality. Not what is really happening.  And yet I found myself staring at the viewfinder instead of watching the real. 

Everything that we experience in this life is through the viewfinder. That's not to say it isn't real. It is real. What we do and do not do in our lives is real and it matters. What we do with Jesus, who we say and believe He is, is real and it matters in this life.  How we decide to treat people is real and it matters. But beyond he view in the finder of this life is something more. It is more real. It is really real. Ain't nothing like the real thing baby!  Beyond the here and now is another truth-another reality. It's all around us. It's heartbeat is felt by us. It breaks through here and again. And when it happens sometimes...sometimes we spy it. It's God's Kingdom.  The truth. The reality. The real thing. Our beautiful hope and future that every once in a while gets so energized, so electric, that like a child on Christmas Eve can't help but jump the gun just a little. And when it does sometimes we are lucky enough to catch it on the viewfinder. The hungry person fed. The downtrodden gospeled. The sin falling from our tightened grasp. It's still small. It's still dim. It's still pixelated.  But it's caught on the view for me and you. And we marvel through it all because it is the counterfeit of the real thing to come. And everyone knows ain't nothing like the real thing baby!  The Kingdom is coming. The show is coming.  The action is coming. No more viewfinder. It's all coming.  Sinless.  Wantless.  Painless.  Deathless.  Soon we are getting pulled into the Kingdom. Soon we are getting pulled into the reality. 

Calibrate

At Trinity Lutheran Church Brownsville, TX

What's in a name?

The day before yesterday the Lord united these two in Holy Matrimony.  He used me to do it.  It was a great celebration.  After the blessings, prayers, vows and ring exchange it became real–I pronounced them Husband and Wife.  Both Patricia and Gerardo got a new identifier that day.  For the first time they were announced as Mr. and Mrs. De La Rosa.  Patricia got a new last name, and was called wife.  Gerardo was called husband.  The pronouncement of those words–wife, husband, Mr. and Mrs.–they indicated something changed about this man and woman after stepping up to the altar that day.  Names are important.  They are important to God.  They give us identity–like Child of God.  God calls us His Children.  And when He does–we are.  Through the vows and pronouncement of God's blessing this man and woman became husband and wife in the eyes of God.  Through my signing their marriage license they became husband and wife in the eyes of the State of Texas.


Self given names are a different story.  Self identification is a different story.  We can self identify wrongly.  We can can self identify selfishly.  We can self identify ignorantly.  Words matter.  Names matter.  And sometimes what we call ourselves, the boxes in life we check, don't give an accurate picture.

There has been quite a bit of heated opinion about a recent Pew Study (what's that?-Wiki Pew Research Center) that has indicated a change in the "religious" landscape of America.  Let me save you all the messy reading.  The major finding of the study is that over the past 7 years the number of self identifying Christians has declined by 8 percentage points–from 78.4% to 70.6%.  That's significant for 7 years.  In the same period, those who identified themselves as "unaffiliated" has risen over 6 points from 16.1% to 22.8%.  There are the numbers, folks.  Now let's talk about them.
Remember: names are important.  They are important to God


Calibrate

A lot of my feelings in response to the results of the pew results are not new or special.  I agree with a lot of what others have already said–like this pastor in Canada eh!
Everybody Panic!–why we are all wrong about church decline.
At the heart of the matter is being able to let the results speak to us.  And the best way for the results to speak to us is to listen to what's being said.  A knee-jerk reaction is to simply look at the drop in those self identifying as Christian, and clutch our pearls in fear.  But because Jesus–great big ole Jesus is Lord and King of the Church, let's listen closer.  The majority–the near whole of those who are no longer identifying as Christian, aren't identifying with any organized religion.  They are not following Allah, or the teachings of the Buddha, or the pantheon of gods in Hinduism, or any other religious value system.  They are identifying themselves as "unaffiliated."  Some of us in the business call them the "nones"–not Nuns, but "nones."  As in the religious affiliation box is check marked "none."  So isn't that a negative thing?  It is if we believe that this shift is an actual change in real faith in Jesus Christ.  But some folks, myself included, believe that the 8 percent shift is actually a symptom of something else.  It is the death of the Nominals

See "nominal"–think "name."  Like nombre in Spanish means "name."  Nominal Christians–the nominals–are those who are Christian in name only.  That doesn't mean they are big 'ole sinners or anything like that.  It doesn't mean they are "bad" Christians.  If you show me a "good" Christian, I will tilt your head and make you see a Christian who doesn't need Jesus–that is to say no Christian at all.  Nominal Christian doesn't mean that they didn't put enough in the plate last year.  A Nominal Christian is truly a Christian in name only.  Somebody who self identifies themselves as Christian for a myriad of reasons that has nothing to do with faith in Jesus Christ as the savior of the world.  Some may identify as Christian for cultural reasons–as in it's an American thing.  Some may identify as Christian because baptism is cute for the picture album...plus it couldn't hurt right?–placating Grandma by going to church on Christmas Eve and Easter keeps you in the families good graces, and the cash stuffed birthday cards coming–having a moral structural system looks good on college applications, and in the community sphere–etc. etc.  I think a large portion of nominals identify as such because...well they know they aren't anything else.  So Christian is the least demanding from people who have no clue–at least here in America.

So here is where the death takes place.  The death is in the need to identify with a religion–with an organization.  It's a tendency that has been sick for a while.  And the past 7 years or so–it has begun to succumb to its injuries.  Here is somebody who says it better than me.
Nominals to Nones: 3 Key Takeaways from Pew’s Religious Landscape Survey

Thank God for the Pew Study.  I'm not encouraged by any declining numbers.  I am encouraged by followers of Jesus.  I am encouraged by faith in Jesus Christ–as it manifests itself in many different forms.  The death of some pressure–whatever that pressure might be, to identify as Christian apart from the faith and obedience to God's Will that actually believing in Jesus brings, leaves something behind.  It leaves a number behind.  Maybe that number is 70.6% of Americans–it's probably less.  But we are moving in the right direction.  Towards a direction of truth.  The remanent of the death of the nominals is this–believers.  Followers.  Christians.  Children of God.  The Kingdom of God remains.  And so I don't see these declining numbers as a fall, a failure, or any indication that the Gospel of Jesus Christ is any less effective than it was in the 1950s–or any other time.  I see it as a calibration.  It is a calibration of the real truth of things.  And for that I am joyful.  Because we have a clearer view of the mission field.  I rejoice because we have a bigger opportunity to Gospel people with the good news of Jesus.  I rejoice because the label Christian is being moved closer to what it was in that 1st century Church.  It is moving closer to indicate a follower of Jesus.  Thanks be to God!