forgiveness

A Short Drive For Forgiveness

Frank

I remember when the news came out. It was the turn of the century, a new millennium, a jubilee year for the church. To celebrate, Pope John Paul II declared that Catholics could earn an indulgence by taking a pilgrimage to a [long] short list of churches or holy sites. Conveniently for me, one of those churches was the Diocese of Denver.

It was just a few years earlier that JP2 (as we affectionately called him) visited Denver for World Youth Day- the same event Pope Francis I is currently celebrating in Brazil. Yesterday’s headline was how his convoy made a wrong turn and got caught in a throng of pilgrims and revelers. If you’re not Catholic, it is hard to describe the celebrity status of the Pontiff- but seeing all those people crowding themselves closer to the non-popemobile is worth more than my words.

I was one of them nearly two decades ago. I remember being shooed away by Secret Service as my friends and I got a little too close to the helicopter landing site at Mile High Stadium and later allowing some nuns a better view (right next to a barricade) of the Pope’s convoy on his way to mass at Cherry Creek Park.

All that to say, I get it. But back to 2000 I was faced with a dilemma. I had stopped attending the Catholic church, so I wasn’t technically in the “good graces” required to receive the indulgence- a remission of the “temporal penalty” of my sin. At the same time, I had spent the previous two to three months studying the Bible and coming to my own convictions regarding the forgiveness of sins. So I had a choice to make, take a short convenient drive to downtown for a temporary fix to my sinful nature without changing my lifestyle, or actually repent and be baptized for the forgiveness of my sins (Acts 2:38).

I’ll leave you guessing which I chose.

At home I have an old Catholic Bible. In the inside cover are a list of indulgences from Pope Pius XII based on the frequency with which one read it. When I open that Bible and look at those I scratch my head, wondering how that doctrine survived the Protestant Reformation. I figure many others felt the same way when they saw last week’s headline “Pope forgives Twitter followers“. The news resonated, even if it got the theology all mixed up.

I’ll leave it to others to recap the subject and correct the doctrine. Meanwhile, maybe you should follow Pope Francis on Twitter to cover all your bases. (or just trust the atoning blood of Jesus instead)

 

Redemption in the Desert

Frank

The need for redemption is a universal theme. In music this can be expressed lyrically, but since the dawn of a relatively new medium- the music video, it can also be expressed aesthetically. (did you know that 40% of all YouTube views are of music videos?)

These two songs have nothing to do with one another, other than this common theme found in their videos. That, and they’re both really cool songs.

Good Man

Frank

I wasn’t planning on sticking with hard rock with this week’s Music Monday post, but then I heard this song which became a new favorite even before checking out the lyrics. I’m not familiar with the band Devour the Day or their predecessor Egypt Central. But this song definitely makes me want to explore their back catalogue.

I could nit-pick theology like I have in my last two posts, but these guys don’t claim to be a Christian band so I’m not going to hold them to the same standard. (although I do sense a bit of Paul in Romans 7 here, and I they ask the question we need to be prepared to answer “am I worth forgiveness?”)

Without getting any deeper, I recommend just turning it up and rocking on. m/

Furry or Fury?

Frank

I’ve been a fan of the comic book character Nick Fury as long as I can remember reading comics. I have a small collection of the Silver Age title Sgt Fury and the Howling Commandos which was followed by Jim Steranko’s brilliant work on Nick Fury, Agent of SHIELD. So obviously I was geeked out seeing Sam Jackson’s post-credit cameo in the first ‘Iron Man’ movie.

But no matter how many times I’ve read the name in print, I struggle every time I hear his name in the movies. In my head, his name was always Nick ‘f-uh-ree’ not Nick ‘fe-yur-ee”. What a difference an extra r makes.

Just as jarring to me is describing the love of God with that word- fury. I think of the fury of a storm and picture its wake of destruction. I consider being furious in my heart and I see myself losing my temper. Yet I imagine the love of God and think of furry bunnies.

Imagine that little fuzzy bunny. It makes you go oooh and aaah. You want to squeeze it, pet it, snuggle with it. We treat God that way sometimes (and that level of intimacy is not necessarily a bad thing- I squeeze and snuggle my kids and I consider that one of the highest forms of affection). But we seldom describe God as Rich Mullins is quoted in Brennan Manning’s book, The Furious Longing of God, “the reckless raging fury.” (pg 29)

Instead of ooohs and aaahs, what reaction should we have towards a furious God? Logic would answer fear and trembling. And the Bible does talk about approaching God in such a way. But God typically defies logic. Would you approach this fury with tears of joy?

I’m not a very emotional person (except for the wrong kind of fury) yet I was moved to tears reading how Manning came to experience God’s furious love- waking up on the street, reeking of vomit, hungover and in about as far from a state of grace religion could imagine for this former priest. And God still loved him.

 
“You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.” (Romans 5:6-8)

God never stopped loving Brennan Manning as he was enslaved in his addiction. He never stopped loving you or me when we wander far from his loving embrace.

Manning writes, “The furious love of God knows no shadow of alteration or change. It is reliable. And always tender.” (pg 34)

Always tender that furious love. God’s fury is furry.

Consider this:

There is the “you” that people see and then there is the “rest of you.” Take some time and craft a picture of the “rest of you.” This could be a drawing, in words, even a song. Just remember that the chances are good it will be full of paradox and contradictions.

[Manning] listed some fictitious gods presented to [him] in the past: the splenetic god, the prejudiced god, the irritated god. Come up with at least one more, from your history, to help round out the list.

This post continues discussion on Brennan Manning’s book, The Furious Longing of God. Please check out Jason Sasyzsen’s and Sarah Salter’s blogs for more discussion. The “consider this” questions come straight from the book- use them as a springboard for your own thoughts and feel free to share them here.

Beyond the Barricade

Frank

My wife and I finally got out to see Les Miserables last weekend. I left the theater with little to say other than “wow”. Normally I wait for movies to come out on Netflix, but I am glad I was able to see this on the big screen.

I normally don’t do movie reviews. One is the reason above- I seldom make it out for new releases. But another reason is that the movie-going experience is so subjective. What one person finds remarkable another thinks is just mundane. In fact, reading some of the reviews online at IMDB I was surprised just how many people nit picked this movie to death. Instead of adding my voice to the din and tackling every complaint and criticism, I’m going to offer my two cents plus some thoughts about how the Christian blogosphere missed the forest for the trees.

Nits and Picks:

I was introduced to the story of Jean Valjean by my sister, who brought home the Les Mis’ soundtrack after seeing it on stage. I was instantly pulled into the story, drawn by the character arc of the protagonist. I know the songs well. In fact it was hard not to sing out loud throughout the movie (but that didn’t stop me from mouthing the words). I’ve also seen it on stage three times with different interpretations, so I was very interested to see how certain sets would be translated on screen.

Many critics weren’t impressed by the singing. Russell Crowe gets a majority of the scorn. His voice is softer and it did take time getting used to- when you’re used to hearing someone’s voice, you assume what their singing voice should sound like. So I was first uncomfortable with his voice, but it grew on me. The same was true for Marius, played by Eddie Redmayne. I don’t really know him as an actor, so in his case I had trouble reconciling his face with his falsetto. Again, it took some getting used to. But since I’ve seen this more than once on stage, and have worn out the tape listening to the Broadway cast, I am used to hearing different voices for each of the characters. So this didn’t bother me and wouldn’t be worth me complaining about.

Another criticism I’ve seen is about the cinematography. Most songs, and even some of the action, is directed towards the audience. This makes sense as it is an adaptation of a stage play, but some found the extreme closeups unnerving. On the contrary, I loved it. I have horrible eyesight and I’ve never had pit seating, so when I’ve seen Les Mis’ on stage the characters are just a blur, distinct only for their voices and hopefully their wardrobe. But besides helping my poor eyes, the focus on each character’s face as they sang about their plight had the effect of pulling me into the movie. It was as if the characters were singing just to me. Because this made it so personal each struggle, each death, tore at the heart. Had I waited to watch this at home, I don’t think it would have impacted me the way it did.

I could rant about other things, such as Eponine’s story arc getting cut short (which some fans are really, really upset about) but none of those things take away from what I considered an awe-inspiring movie experience.

Awe-inspiring. Lofty words, so I better back them up.

(photo credit: The Guardian UK)

Missing the forest for the trees.

(SPOILERS AHEAD)

Most Christian bloggers have focused on the dichotomy between Jean Valjean and Javert. I don’t want to belittle those posts, as most I’ve found are thoughtfully written and worth the read. (Short list: Timothy Darlymple at Patheos, Owen Strachan at Patheos, JR Forasteros at FaithVillage, Joe Rigney at Desiring God, and most recently Katelin Hansen at Red Letter Christians.) There are other contrasts as well- the haves and have-nots, the selfish and the selfless, destiny and circumstance, and so on. But it is another theme that I haven’t seen talked about much which is the theme that caused me to fall in love with this story to begin with: redemption.

Obviously the main storyline of Jean Valjean is that of redemption, but we see it in other characters as well: Fantine being rescued by Valjean from the streets, Marius proving himself to his friends and then being saved, again by Valjean, from the blockade, Eponine proving her love by sacrificing herself, and even Javert has a chance at redemption but refuses it.

Each character’s response to redemption is important. What do you do when you’re given a second chance? I’m reminded of the ten lepers Jesus heals in Luke 17. Jesus heals all of them, but only one returns to give thanks. Or you could consider the parable of the unmerciful servant from Matthew 18. How do you respond when your debts are forgiven?

Legalism versus grace is a debate worth having, but not at the expense of the Gospel of redemption. The Son of God lived on this earth and was killed so that our debt to God can be wiped off the ledger. What do we do with our second (and third, and fourth…) chance?

Jean Valjean was given freedom, but he was rejected by the world. It made him bitter and spiteful. Eventually he was forgiven, by a priest no less (Monseigneur Myriel was played by Colm Wilkinson who was Valjean in the original Broadway cast), and his heart of stone was transformed into a heart of flesh. What did he do from here? He became a successful businessman and mayor, he saved many both from physical harm and economic hardship, he stood up for what was right and just, and he was moved by love to offer second chances to Cozette and Marius. You cry at the end of the movie just as you would at the wake of anyone else who made such an impact in your life. It is his life that is the inspiration and driving force behind the movie. It is his life that is worth imitating.

This theme of redemption is driven home in the finale. I never noticed this before, despite having heard it sung so many times. The movie closes with a reprisal of ‘Can You Hear The People Sing?’ but actually it isn’t the same song. When watching on stage I couldn’t tell, but on the big screen I was able to see the characters who died earlier in the story standing on the blockade (before I just assumed it was the full cast). Seeing characters who should be dead, fully alive (and joyful!), singing the Finale gives enough of a clue that this story isn’t about legalism or grace. I get chills recalling this scene. Now check out the lyrics:

Do you hear the people sing
Lost in the valley of the night?
It is the music of a people
Who are climbing to the light.
 
… 
 
They will live again in freedom
In the garden of the Lord.
They will walk behind the plough-share,
They will put away the sword.
The chain will be broken
And all men will have their reward.
 
Will you join in our crusade?
 Who will be strong and stand with me?
Somewhere beyond the barricade
Is there a world you long to see?

Beyond the barricade is a world we long to see. It is a new chance at life- eternal life. But to get there we need to climb to the light. If this isn’t the Gospel, I don’t know what is.

If you’ve seen this movie, I encourage you to talk about it with your friends, your coworkers, your neighbors. Talk about the theme. Ask them if there’s a life beyond the mundane day-to-day that they long to see. Then share about the Gospel of redemption, Jean Valjean’s second chance and the second chance Jesus offers each and every one of us. And offer to walk with them as they climb to the light.

Hallowed Hall

Frank

There have been several blog posts analyzing the contrast of legalism and grace between Valjean and Javert in the recent movie (and older musical and even older book) Les Miserables. I’ve been wanting to tackle the subject myself but I haven’t seen the movie yet (do any of you want to volunteer to watch my kids so my wife and I can go?). So instead you can check out these posts.

But I am still going to hit this topic, just with a different backdrop. Wednesday the Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA) failed to elect any player to baseball’s Hall of Fame. I already vented on Facebook, so I’ll spare you my tirade. But this article by Jayson Stark at ESPN got my wheels spinning and turned my thoughts back to the subject of legalism and grace. Stark asks this fundamental question which then shapes how we view the Hall: do we want the Hall of Fame to be a museum or a shrine?

To me, baseball is practically a religion. I already wrote about one of baseball’s “angels” and his effort to get into the Hall. And before about being child-like in our view of the game. Like any compelling drama, baseball has a diverse cast of characters- heroes and villains, or for the purposes of this argument saints and sinners- while trying to maintain an image of holiness outside its sacred walls.

Not much different than the church you or I go to, is it? We are just a mass of saints and sinners and our attitudes towards one another depends largely on to what degree we embrace legalism or grace.

The Hall of Fame voters made a statement against the steroid era by not enshrining any player to its stained glass shrine. The universal condemnation against all (assumed by the rejection of Mike Piazza-best hitting catchers in history, Jeff Bagwell-one of the most durable first basemen in history, and Craig Biggio-who had over 3000 hits) because of the recognized sin of a few (Barry Bonds-all time home run record holder and Roger Clemens-most Cy Young awards) despite the open repentance of some (Mark McGwire who said, “I wouldn’t even have voted for myself”).

On the other end of the spectrum are the vocal fans, more than willing to overlook a player’s sins because of the statistics they produced or because he played for their favorite team (though I’m still having a hard time forgiving Sammy Sosa). It’s hard to like a player who is standoffish when he’s hitting .200, but if he hits 60 home runs in a season, suddenly he’s not so bad.

While it may look like the latter group is extending grace towards these players, they are instead exhibiting the worst kind of legalism- that these players earned their forgiveness, that their performance speaks for itself, the the ends justified the means. The former group are more like Pharisees, upholding a measure of law that can never reasonably be met.

So who in this story is Jesus? Certainly not Bud Selig- he’s more Pontius Pilate. To be quite honest, I have yet to see anyone come out and say to those accused of cheating the game, “I forgive you.” I’ve seen forgiveness conditional on the assumption that others in the Hall have cheated. I’ve seen forgiveness in the guise of acceptance- “well, that’s just the way it was in that era.” But I haven’t seen anyone rise above the petty arguments over statistics and legacies and forgive just because. The writers haven’t. The fans haven’t.

Which brings us back to our own position on the diamond. Is the sinner next to you in the dugout Sunday morning any better or worse than you? Is someone else putting up herculean numbers at the giving plate that deserve special recognition for their feat? Or are we all just players in this game and no one is keeping score?

My stats aren’t worthy of induction. Thankfully, because of the grace of Jesus Christ, I don’t ever have to worry about being voted in.

Forgiveness

Frank

Funny how things work. Long before the Aurora shootings, I was planning on these songs from Matthew West and Tenth Avenue North to be featured for a Music Monday post. But they take on a different tone now in the aftermath. All that I was planning on writing about these songs, forget about it.

Key verses:

Show me how, to love the unlovable
Show me how, to reach the unreachable
Help me now, to do the impossible
Forgiveness
***
Seventy times seven times,
Lord it doesn’t feel right
for me to turn a blind eye,
though I guess it’s not that much
when I think of what you’ve done…
Oh Father, give me grace to forgive them
Cause I feel like the one losing

And the important story “behind the music” to Forgiveness.

Then Peter came to Jesus and asked, “Lord, how many times shall I forgive my brother when he sins against me? Up to seven times?”

Jesus answered, “I tell you, not seven times, but seventy-seven times.” (Matthew 18:21-22)

A dozen lives lost. A number that could rise in the coming days as doctors struggle to keep others alive. Seventy total shot. That is seventy times seven people directly affected: parents, siblings, spouses, children, and closest friends. Then there are those indirectly affected but only removed by a single degree of separation (more on that in another post). Add to those a full theater of witnesses.

Forgiving seventy times seven times sounds impossible. That’s the point. We need God’s grace to overcome our own reactions of anger, hatred and revenge. It sounds impossible, but it’s not. The video above testifies to the power of forgiveness. Another great example is that of the Amish in Pennsylvania who not only forgave a school shooter, but embraced his family through the pain of recovery. While that side of the story is well known, here’s an update from the other side to show just how powerful forgiveness can be.

Can we forgive James Holmes to the same degree? Even if we cannot, there is a merciful Father in heaven who can, as hard as it may be to fathom. Jesus died for him too.

Father, give me grace to forgive him. Help me to do the impossible.

Dangerous

Frank

Love this new song from KJ-52. Key lyrics that hit me every time I hear it:

Can’t forgive, or forget
We hold on, and it’s dangerous
dangerous…
It’s obvious that you’re hurt
That’s the role you play
The one where you blame
and push everybody away

Resolution: Debt Free!

Frank

After taking a break for the holidays I’m back with a series of posts on resolutions to start the new year. Please feel free to comment and share your own resolutions for 2012. Next week, I’ll get back on the saddle for my study of the book Not a Fan. For Monday’s resolution, career, click here, Tuesday’s resolution, eating right, click here, Wednesday’s, losing weight, click here. Please feel free to share your resolutions in the comments. There will be a post at the end of the week compiling them all.

You know the drill. Between going overboard shopping for Christmas (and eating out while doing so) and traveling to see family and friends (and taking in all the sights while there, oh and eating out even more) the plastic in your wallet got quite the workout last month. One of the great ironies of “Black Friday” after Thanksgiving is that the day after we thank God for all he has given us we rush out to buy things we don’t need but feel like we do with money we don’t have. So the holiday shopping spree usually follows up with the vow to be wiser the next year and try to climb out from under the mountain of debt.

I’ve seen numbers from $5000 to $17000 for the average credit card debt in America. I’ll let you do the math to figure out what that means in payments every month. But add to that car loans, student loans, and mortgage payments and I’m willing to bet the average American church goer pays more to pay down debt than they give to their local church. Just something to think about. (especially since some stats show that 97% of American Christians do not tithe)

Some experts claimed that yesterday was the most depressing day of the year. Generally speaking, most say it is the third Monday after the New Year. Why? Because after taking however much time off for vacation, we’re struggling to get back into the swing of work, getting kids to school, and so on, and oh yeah, that’s when our credit card bills start showing up in the mail.

It’s a noble goal to try to get debt free. My wife and I took the Financial Peace University classes from Dave Ramsey last year and we’ve weaned ourselves off of paying for everything with plastic. We have a little ways to go before being able to claim that we’re debt free, but we’re on our way.

This is a common resolution. But like previous days, I’m doing a play on words here with a spiritual emphasis. In this New Year, Jesus makes me debt free. He paid all my debt on the cross.

“But now he has reconciled you by Christ’s physical body through death to present you holy in his sight, without blemish and free from accusation.” (Colossians 1:22)

“For if, when we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life!” (Romans 5:10)

“Two men owed money to a certain moneylender. One owed him five hundred denarii, and the other fifty. Neither of them had the money to pay him back, so he canceled the debts of both. Now which of them will love him more?”

Simon [the Pharisee] replied, “I suppose the one who had the bigger debt canceled.” (Luke 7:41-43)

So if one of your resolutions this year is to be debt free, praise God, you already are!

Misfits

Frank

Remember the claymation classic, Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer? You should, it’s been broadcast continuously since 1964. Rudolph and rebel elf Hermy leave the North Pole in search for greener grass (or would that be whiter snow?). What they find instead during their adventure is an island filled with discarded and defective toys, The Island of Misfit Toys. There is some very interesting group psychology going on here, but I’ll leave that for your observation. What is fundamental however, is that these toys never got a chance.

Jesus, himself was rejected. A rabbi with no formal training. A prophet from Galilee. A “sinner” who didn’t wash his hands when he ate and healed on the Sabbath.

“The Son of Man must suffer many things and be rejected by the elders, chief priests and teachers of the law, and he must be killed and on the third day be raised to life.” (Luke 9:22)

And Jesus made a habit of hanging around sinners and tax collectors, going outside of the city and healing lepers, and even striking up conversations with Samaritan women.

We have this image of a perfect Christian either by what they say, what they wear, or what they do. Our church’s doors are open wide for Christians like these! But who wants to sit next to the broken and the rejected, the defective and discarded?

When we gather together to celebrate Christmas we welcome family, but only reluctantly the black sheep child or the stereotype drunk uncle. We gush about our latest accomplishments and look down our noses at the single parent or the grown child without a job. Funny how we act the same at church and at home.

We forget that Jesus, even on the night he was born, was rejected. There was no room at the inn. Instead a baby was brought into this world in a stable, surrounded by livestock, feces, and feed. Unclean. Unwelcome. Rejected.

Praise be to God for that misfit! Who so humbly was willing to love a misfit like me.

Jesus and I, “We’re a couple of misfits…” (sing along!)

Do you feel rejected? Do you feel unwelcome? Most importantly, at this holiday season, do you feel alone? You don’t need to. Jesus was rejected first and he loves you. If you are not welcomed by family or by church this Christmas, you are welcome to feast with Jesus.

“‘Go to the street corners and invite to the banquet anyone you find.’ So the servants went out into the streets and gathered all the people they could find, both good and bad, and the wedding hall was filled with guests.” (Matthew 22:9-10)

There’s a seat saved for misfits like us. Come, let’s celebrate.