Last time I talked about our inner voices that Satan uses to deceive and discourage us. The beautiful thing is that those voices do not define who we are (although sometimes we are tempted to allow that to happen).
Here are a couple of songs to help make that point. My negative self-talk, my failures, my sinful nature do not own me because I am a child of the One True King.
I’m “pinning” my post You’re Not Alone to the top of the main page for a while and I’ll be adding more material as this continues to be a hot topic for me and other bloggers.
But why am I making such a big deal out of it, after all Matthew Warren’s suicide was a couple of weeks ago and there have been bigger headlines since?
I’m staying on this subject because for me, it is personal. Some of what I’m writing about I relate to within the four walls of my home. Some of this is happening right now within the four walls of my congregation. And it continues to be an issue outside of those four walls, even if they don’t make national headlines. Last Monday a local school was on lockdown as a student was reported missing and was assumed to be armed. Later that day he shot himself.
The truth of the matter is, I’m not alright. My family is not alright. You are not alright. We need to get beyond the superficial “fine” when asked how we are doing. Some of us are hurting inside. Some want to hurt themselves or others. The Church cannot continue to turn a blind eye to the struggles associated with mental health. (And you’ll see in these posts that “mental health” ranges from severe depression to autism- two extremes that if we’re honest, we really don’t know what to do with.)
After having been knocked out sick for the past week or so, this is a good song to describe how I feel. Plus, it’s a pretty good song for a Monday.
One (of many) thing I love about Tenth Avenue North is that they don’t just post their videos, but they also post a “behind the music” video for many of their songs. A bonus-feature commentary if you will:
In the sermon yesterday, a point was made that I knew but the Scripture itself never seemed to jump out at me. Our minister was preaching out of John 4, the story of Jesus with the woman at the well. I knew one of the major strikes against her was that she was a Samaritan and Jews at the time just did not associate with Samaritans (which is why the parable of the Good Samaritan is so significant). In fact, Jews would often take the long way around Samaria just to avoid them all together. With that in mind, this verse jumped off the page at me.
“Now he had to go through Samaria” (John 4:4)
Is my Bible lying to me? We know that Jesus didn’t have to go through Samaria; he could have done what every other contemporary Jew would have done. He could have gone around. But he didn’t.
No, the Bible is not deceiving. Jesus really did have to go through Samaria. He had to because it was part of Jesus’ mission- a mission that Jesus had to accomplish.
And I was convicted.
How often do we “take the long way home” to avoid driving through a bad part of town? How often do we see someone at work or maybe even at church and we take the long way around to avoid talking with them? Do we share Jesus’ conviction that he had to go where it would be most uncomfortable?
Dr. Keith Phillips, founder of World Impact tells the story of when he was a student at UCLA how he would drive to Biola University (on the other side of Los Angeles) to help lead a campus ministry. On the freeways, he would intentionally avoid driving through Compton- the projects. Eventually he would become convicted that he was driving across LA to preach the Gospel (at a Christian university no less) but was ignoring a demographic who needed the Gospel the most. Eventually he started to get off the freeway, take the surface streets, and take time at the projects to “preach, teach and heal.” The Holy Spirit convicted him that he had to stop there. And World Impact was born.
Where is someplace uncomfortable that you have to go to follow in Jesus’ footsteps? Who is someone that you have to talk to and share about Jesus even if you don’t want to?
You may have to go to a foreign country. You may have to share with someone of another race, another religion. You may have to serve a community that you don’t think deserves it.
I don’t know where you have to go, I only know what you don’t have to do.
The lights dimmed. The audience took their seats. The dull roar of people talking quited to a hush. The spotlight turned on, and…
A couple of weeks ago we had our annual Christmas program which included our worship team leading us in Christmas songs, old and new, pre-kindergarten singing We Wish You a Merry Christmas, my 1st & 2nd grade class reciting a poem, and the pre-teen ministry along with the third and fourth-graders did a song and poem of their own. Oh yeah, and many of the above kids doing a play of the Nativity which I directed.
Preparing a bunch of six and seven year-olds to memorize and recite a poem was a challenge in and of itself. Directing our Christmas play on Sunday mornings, when there was no guarantee who would be there and who wouldn’t, without the benefit of our sound system since we were practicing at the same time as worship, was something else all together.
Of course, when it comes to kids and Christmas nobody cares if someone misses a line or forgets to come on stage- it adds to the charm. But as the director, trying to herd cats, it can be nerve wracking. To say I was stressed out would be putting it mildly. I don’t know how many people, led by my wise and encouraging wife, told me I didn’t need to be. It didn’t matter though. Not until the day-of, when the lights came back on, would I be able to take a deep breath.
So that morning we are there early, doing a last-minute sound check. Everything seemed to be coming together. Even my budding poets appeared to be prepared. Then I looked over at our cast and noticed only half of them had changed into their costumes. Uh, oh. It’s always something.
Then my phone rings. It is my wife. Our friends, who had half the costumes with them, were in a car accident on their way to the church building and she was on her way to them. Everything in my mind stopped. We were mere minutes before starting. And there was absolutely nothing I could do. What was more important- this Christmas program, or the health and well being of our good friends? (They were ok, by the way, but there was no way of knowing at the time.) I wanted to cancel, call the whole thing off. But it wasn’t just about me. I had to set aside all of my cares and trust God that everything would work out.
So the spotlight came on and Mary and Gabriel slowly came on stage. Gabriel only missed a couple of lines. Elizabeth missed her cue. And our angels and shepherds caused a traffic jam right in front of the manger. But that was ok. So many told me afterwards how good the performance was and how much they enjoyed it. And once we were in the moment, I could honestly say I enjoyed it too.
I can’t control everything. In fact, there’s not much I can control. And although this is the second year I’ve directed this play, I don’t really know what I’m doing. But God is in control and does know what he’s doing. I may get credit for being “director” but God is really the one who directs the performance.
It is hard to reconcile God’s love with what happened on Friday. The easy question to ask is how can a good God allow such bad to happen?
I like how a friend of mine puts it: “people wonder how there can be a good God when there is so much bad in the world, but I ask how can there be any good in a bad world if there is not a good God because I know how evil my heart is without God.”
It’s a good point and worth repeating. If there was not a good God, how could a organism that exists by random chance, that is advanced because of millenia of survival of the fittest (ie looking out for number one), feel any empathy or concern enough for others to hide innocent children while she herself is killed? Just like the despicable act cannot be explained, neither can that act of heroism.
My friend posted yesterday on Facebook,
I know many of us were tempted to doubt yesterday that God really cares, especially in light of the shootings in Connecticut.
But then today, I hear about a teacher who gave her life saving her students in one of the Connecticut classrooms.
I see photos of local adults, students, as well as our elected officials taking a Saturday morning to place wreaths on the grave sites of our American heroes: the Veterans.
We spent the morning with a group of people at a downtown Los Angeles hospital that dedicated the better part of their day to lighten up the lives of some children who will have to spend their Christmas in the hospital because of a variety of illnesses. These folks brought lunch, a magic show, a dance recital, the Laker girls, and of course, the man of the season, Santa Claus who handed out LOADS of presents.
How do I know God cares? Because He made so many people who care as well.
God’s love never fails. It never gives up. It never runs out on you.
I had my iTunes playlist on random Saturday and some of the songs took me back. One, in particular, caused me to stop my housework in its tracks. Jars of Clay, “Worlds Apart”. Like many nostalgic songs, one reminded me of another. Toad the Wet Sprocket, “I Will Not Take These Things for Granted”. Not necessarily the same thematically, but musically they blend well. Listen to both. Turn up the volume. And just close your eyes. When I do that, what do I see? I see a boy alone in his college dorm trying to figure life out. Then, I found meaning in song. Later I would find meaning in something greater.
The hard questions. Stumbling blocks for many to believe in a benevolent creator, awkward for believers whose faith intentionally ignore the question. The easy answer is to simply say, I don’t know. Truth is, only God knows what and why. But it is foolishness to think we are the first to ask these questions.
Jesus was confronted with these questions while he was still walking the earth. In John 11, we read of Jesus raising Lazarus from the dead. Most of us easily remember how the story ends, but we forget the suffering that came before. When Jesus was told Lazarus was sick, he waited two days to do anything about it. Ever have a prayer go unanswered? Mary and Martha, friends of Jesus, must have felt like many of us do: maybe Jesus didn’t get the message; maybe Jesus doesn’t care as much as we thought; maybe Jesus is just too busy.
So when Jesus finally does arrive, Lazarus had been dead for four days. How do you think Mary and Martha felt? I can imagine them approaching Jesus and through their exhaustion and tears lashing out at him in despair. The Bible sensitizes the scene with both women stating, at different times, “if only you were here…” as a passive-aggressive rejection of the Lord’s timing.
When we ask the hard questions, we often think God doesn’t understand. But he does, because he went through it himself. While standing before friends and onlookers, hearing the weeping and wailing, Jesus was overcome with emotion. Most Bible translations say Jesus was “moved” but the word in verse 33 describes anger or the snorting of a horse. Jesus was more than moved. As Shelia Walsh puts it in God Loves Broken People, “This was the Son of God raging at the pain that Mary and Martha, that [friends and family], that you and I have faced or are facing right now.”
So how did Jesus respond? With the shortest verse in the Bible. He wept.
Yes, this was a lesson about the resurrection of the dead. Yes, it affirmed Jesus’ authority even over death. But it is something more as well. Jesus is showing us that on the other side of all the suffering, after all the questions, there is life.
If you were to write your autobiography would it be thriller or a comedy? If you were the center of your own story, would not every hurt and every wrong would paint you as the victim? Who would be the supporting cast? What role would they play: encourager, enabler, persecutor? In the climactic finale, who would be the hero?
The truth is, if it were up to us we’d be the heroes of our own story. After all, the story is all about us, right?
But we’ve come to learn the story isn’t really all about us, is it? So then, who’s the hero?
The world is in need of a hero. Is it the hero to save us? The hero that is ordinary? The hero of the day? Or is it the hero who was famous for nothing?
(I forgot how much I love that Metallica video. It shows just how desperate the world is for a hero.)
What is the proof of your Christianity? Is it how you vote? Is it how busy you are on Sundays? Is it the Jesus fish on your car? Is it your choice in fast-food restaurants that serve chicken?
“By this all men will know you are my disciples, if you love one another.” (John 13:35)