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A Peculiar Kind of Grace

What does a twelve-year-old girl, a bag of Oreo cookies, and an iPod Touch have to do with God's grace?  I pondered that very question this weekend while driving back from one of my children's soccer games.  It isn't uncommon for us to travel to surrounding towns as part of a regional soccer league for 8-year-olds.  At the conclusion of one such game, my wife and I loaded our family into the vehicle and began to make the 30 minute drive home.  A nice reprieve after an intense morning of watching the kids play their hearts out on the field.  After stopping for lunch at a pizza place, we noticed that my daughter (yep the twelve-year-old) had misplaced her $100 iPod Touch device.  A moderate panic began to set in as all of us searched coat pockets and bags.  The first time this happened we had to purchase a replacement device.  The replacement had now gone missing.

At some point that afternoon, after arriving home and performing one last thorough search in the back seat of the car, I made the decision to re-trace our steps, which involved making  the drive back to the soccer field.  I figured this would be a small price to pay if things worked out, so I took my daughter with me and off we went.  It was a quiet 30 minute car ride back.  After all, I had all the leverage as the parent - right?  She had lost her gadget, I was helping to find it.  Well, we visited both the soccer field and the restaurant where we had stopped for lunch; no iPod.

Gloom and doom had set in.  I made a quick stop at a local convenience store to pick up some snacks for the second ride home, and returned to the car with a bevy of sugar-laden confections.  I handed her a bag of mini Oreo cookies (is there anything better?).  Upon tearing open the top of the bag, she looked at me and uttered, "I don't deserve this."  It was one of those Hallmark moments where I was supposed to grab her close - with soft music playing in the background - and deliver a public service announcement type of soliloquy about the impossibility of earning grace on our own accord.  Instead I was struck speechless by her reply.  What a wonderful heart she has.  What a neat thing for her to say.  "Of course you deserve this," I thought to myself ... you are my daughter, and that's enough.

As fate would have it, the lesson at Sunday School the following day centered around God's grace.  Less coincidence and more sanctification I'm sure.  The small group discussed how we cannot earn grace through hard work or hanging around the right people.  How God's grace differs from human grace.  And it does differ, doesn't it?  I think when it comes to an understanding of grace, a good analogy is gift giving and receiving.  It is an overused metaphor I'll grant you that, but an apt one.  And when it comes to gift giving and receiving (at least as it pertains to the population at large) we must consider the truism that we often give gifts to other people with "strings attached."  In fact, there are often many conditions applied to the gifts that we give each other.  

If we take a simple example, a gift card let's say.  Maybe we give someone a gift card worth $50 to their favorite store for their birthday or graduation.  Or more often than not, maybe we give them a gift card to a store that we wish they would go to!  This in turn creates two conditionals: the first is the fact that as gift-giver, we are trying to control where and how the recipient spends our money.  Second, the receiver often feels the need to reciprocate the gift.  When it becomes time for me to graduate or have a birthday for example, then do I then expect a gift in return?  Am I angry if I don't receive one?  After all, doesn't so and so remember that $50 gift card I gave to them?  Couldn't they at least take time to write me a thank you card?  At this point, the line between grace freely given and conditional giving becomes blurred.  More difficult to determine where altruistic intentions end and selfish reciprocity begins. I suspect that many of us don't take time to contemplate this idea at all - if for no other reason than it is so ingrained within us.   

But perhaps I am over thinking things.  I have been guilty of this before.  If I am not careful, the reader may begin to assume that maybe it would be best if I should receive no gift at all. Check mate.  But consider one further example first.  The example of how God uses grace.  Because God's version of grace does not include feeling guilty or the need to reciprocate.  Not if we really understand it.  In fact, I think if we really understood it, God's version of grace would equate to an enormous feeling of freedom and peace.  Let me explain further.

Recently I visited my 97-year-old grandmother in the hospital.  She had gone through quite a rough spell.  It began with her falling and injuring her leg in the assisted living facility.  This resulted in a round of physical therapy and a period of time for healing.  After being largely sedentary for a number of days due to the limited mobility in her leg however, pneumonia set in.  She now found herself being moved from the assisted living building over to a the hospital.  And for those of you that don't know, pneumonia at age 97 is a really big deal.  She is a strong and independent woman, but things did not look good.  

The reason for my visit was to attend the priest's last rites ritual at her bedside.  You see, my grandmother is a lifelong Catholic.  After he arrived, those of us in the room all prayed along side him and received a blessing as well.  Of particular interest to me during this meeting was the way in which Fr. Mike talked about God's list of priorities.  After years and years of performing similar rituals and prayers over sick people, he explained it in the following manner.  First and foremost, he noted that God cares about people's level of spiritual peace.  And in fact, after the majority of his bedside prayers, there is a marked decrease the person's sense of anxiety.  He then said that God seems to place a secondary value on the person's psychological well being.  This sounded strange to me at first, but if we think about it for a minute ... doesn't spiritual peace really outrank intellectual contentedness?  Finally, he said that God seemed to place a person's physical well being (or the possibility of a healing for example) on the very bottom rung.  If they are to be healed then He heals them, if not, then so be it.  

This is an interesting hierarchy.  How odd this would seem to the outside, secular world.  Don't most Americans value physical health above all else?  I knew as soon as Fr. Mike had recounted this list that it would stick in my mind.  Catholic or not, this was good stuff.  This was a godly man telling a room full of downtrodden people what he had witnessed God doing spiritually throughout his life.  We were ready to listen.

The reason I am telling this story now is because to truly understand what God has done for us on the cross through the sacrifice of His son via perfect grace, is to know and be a part of this type of spiritual peace.  It surpasses the need to be either psychologically content or physically healthy.  It swallows up those other two things in fact, and stands boldly at the top of the pyramid proclaiming itself as king.  I believe my grandmother possessed this feeling of peace in the room that day.  It was a grace given to her freely from the Father.  When the priest informed her that we were about to pray over her just in case she passed away, she turned and said to him, "oh, that's a really good idea."  Her response struck me funny, but I think I was too caught up in the moment to laugh.  Would I have responded with that much calmness and presence of mind?  Would you?

What is it like to receive a gift with no strings attached?  To be given something that we can never hope to repay?  To accept something without any conditions attached?  How different Christianity would be if Jesus' great commission included a fine print clause which mentioned that his adherents must try really, really hard to repay what he had done for them.  Instead we are asked only to repent and believe in him - and by so doing, also the one who sent him.  If we really understood this, I imagine we would also look upon God as children with a half-open bag of mini Oreo cookies in our lap ... thinking to ourselves, "I don't deserve this."

After our unsuccessful search for her iPod, my daughter and I pulled into the driveway of our home around late afternoon.  We went back into the house to break the news to my wife.  As it turns out, one last look in the very back seat between the cushions revealed the missing item.  My wife's last attempt to search it out proved successful.  It was in the car the entire time!  I loved my daughter anyway of course, fathers always should - regardless of whether or not we find what we are looking for.  She hasn't earned my love, she doesn't have to.  She simply receives it.  It is no accident that the Bible equates God's love for us to that of a Father and child.  It is most similar to that relationship, but better.  The same way that it is better to have peace than whatever it is we think we need instead.  It is a peculiar kind of grace, but it is ours, and it is given freely.  We need only accept it.

My grandmother did bounce back by the way.  A day or so after we prayed for her, she improved enough to move back to a skilled nursing facility.  She has told me countless times throughout my life that God is good.  I have no reason not to believe her, no matter what the future holds.  Oreo cookies anyone?




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"You create a world, [a reader wrote to Tolkien] in which some sort of faith seems to be everywhere without a visible source, like light from an invisible lamp."

                                                                          - The Letters of J.R.R. Tolkien






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Parable of a Car Dealership?

Let me begin by saying that I am a very lucky man.  I have a great wife and three beautiful children.  Apparently however, being a father and a husband means I also have to be a grown up.  It is a wonderful thing actually, and it means that God has entrusted these three little people to my care.  In addition to this sentiment, it also means that any notion of driving the quintessential little red sports car must give way to a more family-friendly (and more sensible) vehicle.  Enter the reason my wife and I found ourselves at a car dealership in Des Moines recently.  As luck would have it, we found a car we liked very quickly.  It was a white Chevy crossover with three-row seating.  It was the right price, the right mileage, and the right timing.  If only the buying process itself could have resembled the happy little television commercials that show families smiling and high-fiving the sales person as they drive off the lot.  Instead, it was largely an exercise in sweaty palms, nervous anxiety, and a lot of discussion about monthly payments.  We arrived at 4:30 in the afternoon, and ended up driving away in a new vehicle around 7:00 p.m.  The very personable salesman even filled our gas tank for us on the way out of town.  He assured us that they don't do this for just anyone.  

What was interesting however, was what transpired during the actual paperwork process. As we were sitting down to fill out the purchase agreement, my daughter called our attention to something.  Moments earlier, she was knee-deep in trying to help corral her two younger (and very bored) brothers.  It turns out that there isn't much to do for little boys at a car lot!  At any rate, she looked at me and pointed out the window.  "Daddy, isn't that our car?" she said.  I looked up to see another family of five getting into our "sold" vehicle with a different salesman.  They were checking under the hood, looking at the three row seating, and trying out the heated seats - just like we did.  As we were nailing down what our interest rate would be, they were driving our car off the lot right in front of us.

Our own salesman looked as puzzled as we did.  Eventually it became evident that we were in a heated battle with two other families for the same vehicle.  Anxious looks from across the showroom floor at each other was the order of the day for about an hour.  Wondering who they were, and if they needed this car more than we did.  Maybe it wasn't meant to be?  The only reason we ultimately won the battle was due to the fact that technically speaking, we got there first.  And by "first", I'm talking about a matter of minutes.  

What a strange day.  In the process of leaving the dealership and cleaning up the half-eaten bags of Cheetos and spilled Sprite from my kids, I began to think about how we chase after certain things in life.  So interesting how very large purchases (like cars and houses) are often bartered in the blink of an eye.  Thousands of dollars spent in the span of a handshake and series of quick signatures.  

But what if the world chased after God in the same way we fight for a new car or a nice house?  I am reminded of two parables that Jesus tells us from the New Testament in the Bible.  The first occurs in Matthew chapter 13, and goes as follows: "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant seeking beautiful pearls, who, when he had found one pearl of great price, went and sold all that he had and bought it."

And the parable immediately ahead of this is similar in content: "Again, the kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field, which a man found and hid; and for joy over it he goes and sells all that he has and buys that field."

We are lucky to have these accounts of what the kingdom of heaven is like.  Surely God did not have to give us these descriptions.  He wanted to though, and Jesus permitted us to have an idea of what the pursuit of all things Holy can (and should) be like.  I envision a few analogies that make me giggle, such as us battling two other families for the front row at church instead of a cute little SUV crossover.  Or perhaps people fighting for study Bibles instead of regular Bibles, so that they can benefit from the scholarly notes in the margins.  But should I be giggling?  Are any of us lucky enough to know people who actually do seek after God as their "pearl of great price?"  I mean really, what would we think if we heard that John the Baptist was dressed in sackcloth and baptizing people by Lake Fisher, or open air preaching up on the town square?  I think most of us would make the appropriate call to the authorities, and then we would steer clear ourselves.

There is an excellent story about a man named Caleb in the Old Testament.  Caleb was someone whom Moses had given charge to go out and explore the Promised land.  He was to return and give Moses an account of what he had seen.  What he saw was intimidating at best: the land was full of large, strong warriors and well fortified cities.  On the face of it, prospects looked grim regarding a successful invasion of this area by God's people.  But God had promised this area to the Israelites ahead of time - formidable army or not.  Caleb was one of the few who did not let fear and intimidation sway him from claiming what God had promised.  He was ready to go, and I suspect he was counter-cultural and probably a bit politically incorrect, even for his day.  He chased after God with his whole heart.  

But how do we cultivate a Caleb heart?  Are we sure we really want to?  A good many churches are probably guilty of selling Jesus without counting the costs.  "Check out this new car" they might say.  Or "low miles and a shiny exterior!"  Never mind the fact that it takes premium gas only, or that sometimes you will need to make monthly payments, even when there isn't quite enough in your bank account.  The good news is that the choice to follow Christ is free in the temporal sense, but it will definitely come at some spiritual cost.  It will have something to do with repentance, and a good bit to do with forgiving others.  The sticker price is clearly labeled and there isn't any fine print; we just need to make sure we read the whole thing.  

And surely this is what God would want from us, or it wouldn't have been recorded in the Bible for us to be reading 2,000 years later.  He invites us to seek Him and to study His word.  But what about those times when reading and listening to church sermons aren't enough?  How do we work toward a fearless heart then?

I have a feeling that cultivating a heart for God begins with personal prayer.  It has less to do with volunteering for another church committee, and more to do with consciously pointing our thoughts toward Him.  If God is a personal being, then prayer is the language by which we connect to Him.  The longer we spend communicating this way, the more of God we receive.  Our hearts begin to change, to open up.  And if we are not careful, we may find that before long, our pearl of great price may just be Jesus.  Prayer slows things down, it forces us to contemplate things.  It is a way to spend time with the eternal Father, and it's a cornerstone teaching of the Christian church.  And the good news is that God actually cares what we think and whether or not we take the time to converse with Him.  Even about the small things ... even about buying a used car.  

As we left the dealership that night, my wife and I were very tired.  A two hour trip lay ahead of us, and we hadn't had dinner yet.  As we walked out of the building, I held the door open for a family who was just leaving also.  I think it was one of our opponents - a casualty of the vehicle finance war that occurred only hours earlier.  As they got into their truck and drove away, the driver leaned on the gas pedal and caused the engine to roar as they sped by.  The battle cry of an unhappy customer no doubt.  My wife and I looked at each other.  We had won today.

It was a peaceful drive home that evening when we finally hit the road.  The kids were tired but happy.  Did I mention the car has three-row seating?  I prayed a prayer of gratitude before bed after we arrived home. I thanked God for what He had given us.  I will also ask Him to make sure that I remember He comes first, no matter what.  To try to act more like Caleb and less like doubting Thomas.  This is a difficult thing to do.  More difficult I think than many of us realize.  I am also grateful that we have God's grace in our lives to help us while we struggle with these things.  We need not do it perfectly, and in fact I don't think it is in us to do so.  We can simply rely on this divine ability from God through prayer to help us change the things we chase after in life.  To slowly but surely shift our priorities from 'what about me' to 'what about Him?'

The new vehicle is working out just fine.  Other than a burned out blinker that needs fixed, I think we will be very comfortable driving it for some time to come.  At least we have a while to breathe easy - the first car payment isn't due until next month.  I will just need to make certain there is enough money in our bank account to cover the cost.  It's no little red sports car.  Even so, it is exactly what we needed.


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Toy Trains, a Small Child, and God's Grace

On any given day in our home, you can hear the sound of a train whistle and a conductor's voice calling out to anyone who will listen, "All aboard the Polar Express!"  It does sound exactly like Tom Hank's voice from the movie of the same name.  In fact, to be honest, my middle son adores The Polar Express film.  Our family was held captive on the couch this holiday season as we watched this movie a week before Christmas, and then the day before Christmas, then the week after ... you get the idea.  He loves this story.  

As I walk into the living room to remind him that it's dinner time, and that little boys must live on more than just remote control train engines and toy figurines, I can't help but notice the glint in his eye.  He has been playing with his large-scale Polar Express train set every day since receiving it on Christmas Eve from my parents.  It has engaged his imagination - he is hooked.  He can adjust the tracks to create different layouts.  And he can stand anywhere in the room and control the engine via a handheld remote switch.  I am reminded of myself when I was eight-years-old.  Fawning over a Star Wars play set or the latest toy phaser gun that my aunt and uncle would buy me.  These things offered an escape from reality; a one-way ticket into another world.  Transforming me instantly from an ordinary kid in the suburbs, into a star ship captain or an army commander, taking that next enemy ridge with my friends.  All childhoods should be made of things such as this.

I think of all these things as I finish reading a book called 'Not God's Type' by Holly Ordway.  It was a birthday gift from my wife.  It was one of those gifts that reminds us how our spouses know us better than we know ourselves.  I think she knew the book would speak to me in a meaningful way.  Ordway is a Christian apologist at the Houston Baptist University, and also a Professor of English.  In her book she redefines the way that people can defend God by reminding us that not everything can (or should) be broken down into a philosophical or conceptual argument.  A good many things, she claims, can be verified as true simply by coming to the realization that God works through the human imagination just as much as He appeals to our intellect.  This was especially interesting to me, as I have recently published a book on the matter of understanding the Christian faith through logic and reason.  I hadn't spent much time on literary allusion, poetry, or art - at least not in so much as these areas might involve demonstrating proofs for God.  But they do of course.  Truth be told, some of the greatest works of writing come from a Christian understanding of the world.  How many people adored the Lord of the Rings trilogy I wonder, without knowing that it sprung from Christian roots.

How simple this idea is, and yet how difficult to grasp at the same time.  I think many of us lose this ability to engage our imagination as we grow up.  If we are being honest however, God is present in the movies that we love, the books that we read over and over, and the artwork that might be hanging on our wall at this very moment.  I am tempted to quantify this way of thinking into two facets: imagination and beauty in nature, and imagination and beauty in the human condition.  I'm sure there are more ways to trace God's gift of the aesthetic, but for now, let's just discuss these two. 

I am also fond of a book by Dr. Francis Collins called 'The Language of God.'  It is the story of how one scientist (and self acclaimed atheist) eventually found God through the very method of scientific discovery that he used to use in order to defend his unbelief.  He describes one moment very succinctly in the book, while out hiking one day in the wilderness.   He writes, "A full year had passed since I decided to believe in some sort of God, and now I was being called to account.  On a beautiful fall day, as I was hiking in the Cascade Mountains during my first trip west of the Mississippi, the majesty and beauty of God's creation overwhelmed my resistance.  As I rounded a corner and saw a beautiful and unexpected frozen waterfall, hundreds of feet high, I knew the search was over.  The next morning, I knelt in the dewy grass as the sun rose and surrendered to Jesus Christ."

It wasn't only Collins' understanding of biological complexity and intricate design that brought him to the Cross, but also an acknowledgment of God's infusion of beauty through nature.  This aspect captured his imagination and engaged his heart.  

I remember well one summer vacation with my family while driving across country.  As soon as we crossed the state line we were confronted with no less than three rainbows.  It was right after a light rain, and as the kids peered out of the car window, there they were.  We would drive past one rainbow, and another would take it's place farther down the interstate.  I will never forget the crisp, wonderful division of sharp colors seemingly stretching on forever.  You can break down how a rainbow is formed scientifically, but you cannot process it as it is meant to be taken in without thinking of beauty in a more eternal and lasting sense.  

The other avenue I mentioned was God's imagination and beauty as manifested through the human condition.  We are curious and unique beings, the most complex of Earth's creatures.  It only makes sense that from time to time, if we look close enough, we see signposts of God's goodness in each other.  Pointers to His divine imagination playing out in each one of us.  Not long ago, my wife and I were talking to our kids about the importance of both saving and giving money.  We mentioned how some people donate to charity, and still others give gifts to their friends and family in times of need.  My middle son (yes, the Polar Express kid) spoke up and told us that he intends to give the entire contents of his piggy bank to the church.  What can you do with a statement like that?  It is the essence of human dignity to give to others that are in need.  It is a truly beautiful thing to give to others in need without being asked to do so.  God has indeed created us in the likeness of His image.  At any point in time we can choose to reflect that light  through kindness, or demonstrate the vale of sin through cruelty and apathy.  The former are qualities that point toward a creator, which cannot be arrived at with logical arguments and carefully thought out theories.  They simply exist, and point to something greater than ourselves.

I'm sure it isn't an accident that God made us with an appreciation for the imaginative.  Think of how different and bland the world would be without music or art, without poetry or literature.  What if instead of reading 'Adventures of Huckleberry Finn' in school, I had been given a book on the history of the South in the 1880's?  Would I have been able to feel what it was like to float down the Mississippi on a raft?  

The train whistle sounds again, and I am forced to stop daydreaming.  My son is asking me to come and help him glue cotton balls to a cardboard box with an entrance cut out of it. It is of course, a snow covered tunnel that leads to the North Pole; I need not even ask.  Someday he will grow up of course, and he will have a job with deadlines and projects and phone calls and stress.  They cannot take away his beautiful mind however, as it isn't theirs to take.  It is by God's grace that he will be able to look at a toy train and be transformed back into a little boy again whenever he wants.  It is by God's grace that some of the things in this world are so beautiful.  Sunsets are majestic - they certainly didn't have to be.  There could simply have been light, and then the absence of light as the sun disappears behind the horizon.  Instead we have streamers of gold and orange, intertwined in such a way as to spark a memory of the eternal spirit.  Something inside us that we cannot quite comprehend when we see it.  We can only bask in it's beauty for those few breathtaking moments until it drops behind the tree line.  All the while,  experiencing what it is truly like to be human.  What it is to be an eight-year-old child again, playing with trains.  What it is to be exactly what God wants us to be.  



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When God Waves Back: A Child's Story

This week I attended my children's school Christmas music program.  As I write this, I have two children in grade school and one hovering dangerously close to young adult-hood.  They have all been a blessing to me, and I was looking forward to this event quite a bit.  As hundreds of us parents made our way into the crowded school gymnasium, I couldn't help but feel the joy and anticipation in the air.  We were lucky to find a place to sit on the high rise bleachers ... it was a full house.  

A hush fell over the audience as the students began to file through the hallway and into the gym.  Dozens of parents extended their hands high, holding cell phones equipped with state-of-the-art cameras.  I did the same.  We must have looked like a sea of news reporters at a CNN conference where the president was about to come on stage.  Once situated on the risers, almost every child began scanning the crowd for familiar faces.  Looking for your parents and grandparents is standard fare at these events, and every kid is programmed to do this I think.  My youngest spotted me before I even saw him.  When I finally locked eyes, he raised his arm and began the ceremonial "Hello Daddy" wave.  I waved back, thus sealing our unwritten contract.

I have a feeling that deep down, no matter how old we are or where we come from, we all scan the audience from time to time, looking for a familiar face.  Why do we do this?  It is possible we need some type of recognition at our job, or maybe we need to be noticed by our peers.  Sometimes we may simply be double-checking that we matter enough for people to come out and watch while we go through life.  From time to time I engage in public speaking of one sort or another, and I can't help but scan the audience myself.  Looking here and there for a friendly face.  Am I looking for someone to wave at? It depends I suppose.

At any rate, it is December as I write this, and our young family is buzzing with Christmas excitement at home.  We have the lights up on the house and the tree stands tall and proud in the family room; a testament to gifts and goodies yet to come.  There are Santa Claus ornaments on the branches and stockings over the fireplace.  It is a happy time of year.  But understand this also - my mother passed away seven years ago, right around the holidays.  It was January actually, and I can still remember how cold it was at the funeral.  Much of it is a blur now, but God has graced me with certain memories that will remain sharp no matter how many years pass.  I now cherish these  moments with her, of course.  Recently I visited her grave site in Des Moines, something I hadn't done in a while.  It was October and there were leaves on the ground already, but fortunately no snow yet.  I had to brush away the cut grass, and even a few weeds that had found there way over the tombstone.  It was a strange feeling to be back there.  Why do I let so much time pass in between visits I wonder?

As I was driving to the cemetery, it felt almost the same way it feels to go meet an old friend at a coffee shop or restaurant.  How great it will be to catch up.  How wonderful to see her again. As my car pulls around the curve and I drive by the mausoleum, reality sets in.  There will be no one waiting in person to greet me.  I find her lot and park the car.  What am I doing here?  How will I react when I see the grave site?  Instantly I am a child again, seeking after my parent.  I envision myself six-years-old at my elementary school, standing on the risers after being led out by the teacher.  Can I see my mom?  Where is my dad?  Later in life, when I would speak occasionally at my local church, my mother would attend the service.  I would sit in the audience and wait for the pastor to introduce me.  I would then scan the doorway and look for my mother to arrive.  Sometimes I would wave first ... sometimes she would.  Always nice to see a familiar face, but no face will greet me today at her grave site.

I spend just the right amount of time at the cemetery, then get back into my car to leave.    Why does it feel like we just had a conversation even though it was just me?  Why doesn't she answer back?  Can't she see me waving from the bleachers?  Darn it, I forgot to pick up flowers.  Will she notice?

I believe it a truism to say that most of us are seeking something or someone to wave at.  A familiar face in a crowded gymnasium.  The reason we scan the audience doesn't matter so much as the fact that we are born seeking after meaning in this life.  I am blessed also to have a cub scout den that knows this, and we are currently putting one of my boys through a 'God and Me' study unit.  Recently we discussed John 3:16, and the boys were supposed to write what this phrase means to them personally.  Many of us know this Scripture by heart: "For God so loved the world, that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life."  It is a familiar verse, but it is an important one.  

I look over to see what my son has chosen to write.  This is what he said: "To help everyone who's being bullied.  And to make God feel happy."  This is an eight-year-old's stylistic interpretation of the famous verse in the Gospel of John.  I chuckled to myself when I read it.  If the concept of sin can be equated to being bullied, then he's nailed it!  But more than that, isn't John 3:16 an example of God acknowledging us?  It feels like He is waving back at us from the parent section.  "I am here," he might say ... "and I love you."

Are we waving back at Him?  I sincerely hope so.  I believe my mother did before she passed.  If the Bible is a novel about Salvation, then the Gospels are a love story.  They present us with a Father who attends all of our music programs and sits in the front row.  Who laughs when we laugh, and cries when we cry.  He waits patiently for us to find him in the parent section, and then waves when our eyes meet his.  He stays late after everyone has filed out of the gymnasium, and cares enough to pick up a copy of the playbill to post on the refrigerator door when he gets home.  It will remain there long after the concert is over.  

The children in our cub scout den are absorbing these Scriptural truths quickly.  They have wonderful, pure hearts.  We read things like John 3:16 out loud during the meetings.  They seem to understand it inherently.  My hope is that we do also, and that we never stop scanning the parent section, always ready to wave back as soon as we lock eyes.

It occurs to me that someday my kids will come to visit me at the cemetery.  They may forget to bring flowers - I don't care.  They may notice that it's been a while, and some weeds have begun to cover the tombstone.  Never mind.  What matters is that throughout their lives, whenever they saw me in the bleachers and waved, I waved back.  


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A Bucket Full of Sand, and the Lost Sheep

Not long ago, my family and I took a trip down to the Gulf Coast by Alabama for a week long vacation and family getaway.  The drive from our hometown to the southern most tip of Alabama was no less than 1,000 miles.  This equated to a one-way trip of close to 15 hours in the car (more like 18 hours if you factor in stopping for lunch and dinner).  Despite the odds of my wife and I ending up in a mental institution from attempting this trip with three young children, we decided to knock out the drive in one day.  We day tripped from dusk to dawn, and finally made it to our hotel by midnight.

There were some strange things that happened along the way.  We look back now and laugh, but at the time it really wasn't too amusing.  For instance, someone had called and cancelled our reservation in Alabama earlier that same morning (and it wasn't us!).  We had a flat tire needing repair about halfway through the trip as well.  We stayed in a hotel room that emanated second-hand smoke from the carpet to the ceiling - all the while with "no smoking" cards placed everywhere in the room.  These things make me smile as I am sitting here writing about them.  This is the price we pay for getting away to some place new.  Each vacation is its own mini adventure.  Chevy Chase would have been proud (you may remember the National Lampoon's Vacation movie he made famous).  

Overall we couldn't complain, of course.  In a country that has yet to fully recover from the housing market crash in 2008, our family of five took a comfortable vacation to a white sand beach with an amazing view of the ocean.  God's beauty is amazing at times: we were packing up to leave the beach for the hotel one evening and I snapped a picture of the sunset over the water.  A surreal mixture of peace and satisfaction came over me.  Life was good.  In fact, we are still shaking beach sand out of our family car to this day (a week and a half later).

Not every day was full of bliss however.  One day in particular comes to mind, while we were busy splashing in the waves and having a good time, my wife happened to look up and notice that our youngest son was nowhere to be found.  We had rented some blue beach chairs with an umbrella so we could be comfortable while relaxing in the hot sun, and a moment earlier he had been playing in the sand with a small toy shovel and a plastic bucket right next to them.  He was gone in the blink of an eye.  It was a holiday weekend and the 32 mile long beach was lined with thousands of people.  I am reminded of the scene from the remarkable Steven Spielberg film 'Minority Report', where Tom Cruise's character takes his young son to the public pool.  After practicing how long he could hold his breath under water, Cruise surfaces to find that his son is gone.  In the film, Cruise never finds his son again.  I can't help drawing parallels to this experience with that scene.  It was terrifying to watch on a movie screen, and it was terrifying to experience it firsthand.  It really was like a scene from a movie.  

Jesus tells three versions of a parable that are interrelated in the Gospel accounts of the Bible that I think we can use to help illustrate this feeling.  The one I will focus on here is the parable of the lost sheep that appears in Matthew chapter 18, verse 12: "What do you think? If any man has a hundred sheep, and one of them has gone astray, does he not leave the ninety-nine on the mountains and go and search for the one that is straying? 13“If it turns out that he finds it, truly I say to you, he rejoices over it more than over the ninety-nine which have not gone astray. 14“So it is not the will of your Father who is in heaven that one of these little ones perish."  

In terms of exegesis, there are different ways to unpack this Scripture.  But I think the main thrust of the parable is obvious in this context.  If God so loved the world that He sacrificed His one and only Son, then why wouldn't he take the extra trouble to go and retrieve someone who had wandered from the Faith and restore him or her?  Why wouldn't He take any amount of trouble necessary to save you and I from a Christ-less existence?  Why shouldn't we take trouble (as representatives of the Gospel message ourselves) to chase after the sheep?

Of course, while we were frantically looking for my son at the beach, I could muster none of this clarity of thought.  My main concern was fighting back the feeling of dread that was beginning to set in as three minutes went by ... then five minutes ... then ten minutes without seeing him anywhere.  My wife began to shed tears, and people around us were starting to take notice.  If you have ever witnessed a scene like this, even if it involved people whom you have never met, you may note that it is impossible to ignore.  Eventually, during my second or third trip back and forth around the beach, two strangers sitting behind us called out to me, "hey!"  I turned, and heading my way was my youngest son, plastic bucket in tow.  I thanked the couple who had said something to me in order to call my attention to him, and apologized for the verbal punishment that my son was about to receive.

What if those people hadn't taken the extra time to get involved?  After all, we were strangers 1,000 miles from home.  What if the Shepard in Jesus' parable hadn't taken the time to temporarily leave the 99 other sheep and go after the stray?  What if you and I never take the time to tell anyone about the saving grace of God?  Given the circumstances, shouldn't we feel the same level of urgency that I felt on the beach that day while frantically looking for my son?  After all, the spiritual stakes are just as high.  I think we need to go after the sheep.  

Truth be told, I don't think that God typically requires us to share the Gospel message with complete strangers.  More often than not, I have a feeling it need only occur after relationships have been established and life experiences shared.  Less open air preaching to the man on the street, and more asking our friends if they want to come to church on Sunday.  Because if Jesus is at the center of our lives, then talking about Him bubbles up from the overflow in our hearts.  But our hearts are often scared to overflow I think.  What will people think if we tell them about Christ?  What will they whisper about us when we leave?

The image of finding my son again, holding that plastic bucket will be with me forever.  When he is 30 years old I imagine I will still remember that day.  Tears coming down his face, bleached blond hair from swimming all day, holding that bucket full of sand.  I hope he will tell me that he was grateful my wife and I came looking for him, that we didn't give up ... that we couldn't give up.  I hope some day after I am gone, God may pull me aside and show me other lives that were touched because I was bold enough to share His message with others, because I didn't give up.  I hope the same for you.


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Some Lenten Humor ...

Atheism, the Universe, and Really Good Pizza

Last night our church kicked off a ten week series of classes called the Alpha Course.  This course is a chance for people from any background and religious view to check out what Christianity is, and to get a closer look at what the church does.  No question is off limits.  We had a full house last night; about 60 people showed up.  The first part of the class always consists of a dinner, and this time we decided to cater in pizza from one of the local restaurants here in town.  Imagine if you will, two conference room tables full of the most delightful pizza.  Pepperoni, sausage, cheese, Canadian bacon ... you get the idea.  I have often commented that this place makes the best pizza I have ever tasted.  In fact, you would have to argue diligently in order for me to change my mind.  Last night was as if someone sliced off a piece of heaven and brought it down to our church in the form of a multiple topping symphony.  

After the dinner, we listened to a talk that addressed three common objections to the Christian faith: supposedly some think it is boring, untrue, and irrelevant.  You may be able to think of other objections, but these three were taken from recent surveys conducted by various polling organizations who asked carefully phrased questions. When finished with the talk, we broke into several small groups.  There are 9 people in my group, including myself.  That means we have 9 separate insights, 9 different opinions, and 9 distinct ways of interpreting the world around us.  The discussion was lively, and I can expect only good things to come in the future.  

 The week prior to the Alpha course kick off I watched a debate between veteran Christian philosopher William Lane Craig and renowned physicist and atheist Sean Carroll.  The topic of the debate was 'God and Cosmology'.  The two men discussed whether or not current cosmological theory supports the concept of a monotheistic god.  No one here was attempting to assert that the Earth is only 6,000 years old, or trying to argue whether or not creationism should be taught in schools.  There was simply an examination of the evidence around us.

Carroll's main point seemed to be that we can get around the need for positing a belief in god by claiming that the Universe had no real beginning, and that since space and time have always been eternal - there is no reason to think that it was "brought into being" by anything or anyone.  He goes on to state that since the term theism itself is not very well defined (in other words you can ask anyone what it means and you will get a different answer), you cannot use it as an alternative explanation to an eternal Universe.  

This is an interesting claim, and we may in fact come to a place where the 9 of us address these ideas over some of that superb pizza.  But for now, let's speculate about these two positions right here on this blog.  Take the idea that the Universe has always been, and always will be.  Current evidence about the cosmos seems to point to a very different conclusion.  We can observe that matter in the universe is moving away from itself because this force leaves a particular signature that scientists can record and analyze.  This "expanding universe" seems to require an explosion from which everything began, and almost no one today refutes that there was some type of Big Bang or singularity that started everything.  That science cannot take us back far enough to know what exactly happened (or for that matter what may have existed) prior to this amazing event, I will not argue.  Some say it was simply another universe.  Others hold to a view that there must have been many universes, and ours is just one of them (this is called the world ensemble theory).  There is no evidence for either one of these theories by the way, and they work only in so far as to say we cannot scientifically disprove them either.  

Carroll also had a second point, namely that because theism (or the general belief in some type of god) was so ill-defined that you could not use it as any sort of alternative viewpoint.  This was somewhat shocking to me, since I think it is adequate to offer the totality of the Bible itself as a master document from which we may "define" theism.  Depending on the style or translation, most Bibles range anywhere between 900 - 2,000 pages.  It is a collection of 66 books by over 40 authors which spans some 1,500+ years.  The one thing you cannot say is that God (or in this case theism) is poorly defined.  You may say that you think it is untrue, inconsistent, incoherent, etc... but you cannot say there isn't enough information available!

So what are we to do with these two notions?  We have a universe that apparently did begin to exist at a certain point in time, and a God that has been written about and defined for us throughout the ages.  Can these two concepts go hand in hand?  I do think they are contiguous, but I will get to that in a minute.  What really struck me about Carroll's belief system was that it seemed he was ascribing certain eternal and mystical qualities to something that really isn't eternal.  In other words, the Universe and the study of the cosmos had become (I think) his God.  He wanted space to be everlasting, eternal, all encompassing, and larger than life.  These are all terms that have been used to describe God.  We may shift the attributes of the creator onto what has been created, but I don't think we can hide our desire to be awestruck by something that is larger than ourselves.  Carroll still has it, so do I.  That he and I place our awe in two different things is obvious, but I can't help wishing he could see the forest for the trees.  The Universe is enormous and it is often beautiful.  Why?  It certainly didn't have to be.  It also didn't have to be set up in such a way that allows human beings to be able to explore it and witness it's beauty.  Some have postulated that we are in an almost perfect location within the Milky Way galaxy from which to view the cosmos.  The apostle Paul says in the book of Romans that the evidence for God is apparent to all men by simply observing the created world around us.  It would appear this argument holds true for the heavens as well.  

I hope that people come to the Alpha course with these types of questions over the next couple weeks.  I hope that some who would never consider setting foot inside a church will also show up.  I believe it is very possible to reconcile the two solutions regarding Sean Carroll's claims (that we long for something eternal and meaningful, and that we have a God that is well defined).  His first point asks the question in a very basic and relevant way: why is anything here at all?  The second question infers this answer: because God put it there.  At most, I hope that people can walk away from church with more answers than they had when they arrived.  After all, if they don't show up, then what would we do with all of that leftover pizza?


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Serendipity and a Stray Cat

Not long ago, my family and I welcomed a stray cat into our home.  It was a week or so before Christmas and I think the cat must have known it, perhaps he played upon our sympathies.  My daughter named him Leo.  From the time he appeared on our front porch to the time that my daughter and I drove to the store and purchased a cat box and mouse toy was approximately one hour.  I don't care what anyone says, Leo is our "Christmas cat."  

Leo is also ornery.  He is an older cat, the vet tells us maybe between 8 to 10 years old; my wife refers to him as a Grandpa Cat.  He likes his naps, during which time he has made it clear we must keep our distance (kind of like me).  He has a non-stop appetite, and enjoys a wide variety of people food.  He also loves to snuggle when someone picks him up - he will actually perch on your shoulder if you let him.  I often wonder about Leo's previous life.  Where he came from ... what kind of life he led prior to arriving at our doorstep.  Will he be a good fit for our family?  Only time will tell.  As I write this he has assumed the Garfield posture on the couch in our front room and he is engaged in his fourth nap of the day.  I may be a little jealous.

You see, our family went through what we privately call a "Grief-a-thon" not long ago.  One cold weekend in October we lost our longtime pet cat (who had also been a stray) to lung cancer.  She was close to 12 or 13 years old ... no one is really sure.  She was the sweetest animal I have ever known.  No boundaries, no aggression - just love.  We had to make the decision to put her down at the vet's office.  Two days later we lost our 14-year-old dog to an enlarged heart and emphysema.  She had been with my wife and I since we moved into our first apartment, straight through until we moved into our current home.  I referred to her as our Dog-ter (i.e.: a pun on daughter).  This was a second blow akin to what Mike Tyson must have felt when he faced Lennox Lewis for his last serious heavyweight boxing match.  We had to tell our kids that within two days we lost all of their pets.  To make matters worse, this was all sandwiched in between my wife's birthday.  You start to get the point.

Maybe a week later, we received news that my wife's grandfather was in failing health at the hospice and had days to live.  His name was Harold, and I liked him quite a bit.  He was strong and direct, and loved all of his grandchildren immensely.  Those fleeting few days went quickly, and he passed away.  There was a funeral shortly thereafter and he was laid to rest among an audience of those who loved him and truly grieved his absence.  It was, in no small part, a Grief-a-thon.  

As our family moved forward during the coming days, healing was at work.  In fact, I'm not so much blogging here as I am journaling.  I often think of God when I remember these events.  You see, we were grief-stricken but never dejected.  There was still laughter and smiles and hugs in our household.  God's joy and goodness still filled the center of our hearts.  We are fortunate to have His promise from the book of Hebrews, chapter 13, "Never will I forsake you, never will I leave you."  This is no small promise.  In fact, the faithful who walk with God on a daily basis have experienced this truth firsthand.  They have also lost cats and dogs and parents and grandparents, but they still have Joy.  Joy is something different and unique, it doesn't depend on temporal happiness or good fortune.  It's based on a relationship with Jesus; something transcendent and bigger than bad circumstances.  And at times like this I am grateful for serendipity, or as some call it ... happy accidents.  Funny how these turns of chance always seem to show up at the right time.  Someone once told me that bad news happens in 3's.  The 4th occurrence then, is hopefully some type of good news.

The fact that Leo came to us during Christmas, after an extremely difficult season in our lives could be simply an act of chance, and part of me is okay with that.  The truth is that Leo needs us as much as my grieving kids needed him.  He was hungry, thirsty, cold, and had some health problems.  We took him in and overwhelmed him with love.  He never knew what hit him!

Some time after Christmas had passed and Santa had come and gone, I found an old picture on my cell phone of a portrait my daughter had painted in art class over a year ago.  This was well before Leo ever set foot on our porch.  Her painting was the spitting image of Leo, right down to the unique black and white markings on his nose ... she even nailed his longer than usual front teeth.  When I showed it to her she remembered the art class and she was just as stunned as I was.  Serendipity.  Random chance.  God's joy.  Pick the term you like best.  In effect, what had happened is that one of my children had sketched a picture of a cat that would show up at our home a year later.  The symbolism here was hard to ignore.  

Ultimately this story doesn't "prove" anything regarding the reality of God working in our lives ... or does it?  I couldn't take this event in front of a panel of skeptics and sway them with hard evidence, finger prints, and a smoking gun.  It is sufficient, however, to note that the arrival of Leo the Christmas Cat coincided with the spirit of Christmas itself.  Also sufficient to note is that our new visitor just may have helped three grieving children and two slightly heart-broken grown-ups at just the right time.  Nonetheless, no matter which camp you fall into (chance or a gift) in our family we know that God is good.  Despite the losses we all experience as we travel down the road of life - often to destinations we would rather not go - in my heart I will always have the by-product of Faith which is joy.  I will have this gift hopefully no matter what circumstances occur, and no matter what destination I arrive at.

My greatest hope for everyone I know and love is that they might have this type of joy also.  It defies cynicism and covers over just about any negativity.  Joy through faith allows us to forgive people who may not have earned forgiveness.  It allows grieving people to become over-comers and survivors.  This, I think, is what God had intended for mankind all along.  We can take comfort in a famous verse from the book of Revelation, "He (God) will wipe away every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away."  I look forward to this day very much.  Not because I have earned it in any way, but simply because it is what God wants for me.  I will accept serendipity as a down payment on that future hope of things to come.  God desires us to have peace, and not just that, but also the type of faith and joy that can come only from Him.  

I was fortunate enough to be able to do some speaking at Harold's funeral.  It was a sad event, but his family was all together and there was still laughing and camaraderie to be felt.  In planning his eulogy I had neglected to mention that on occasion during family holidays, Harold had asked for us all to bow our heads and say a few words regarding his wife that had proceeded him in death.  If I had the chance to say a few words to anyone reading this post, it would be these: we have all lost friends and relatives whom we love.  It will be okay.  We will all lose those we care about in the future.  God is still here.  When it comes our own time to leave, ask Him to take us and accept us.  He gave us Jesus as a gift, a serendipitous down payment - and it is okay to accept it.  God's love for the human being is something that has nothing to do with random chance, and everything to do with Him wanting us as much as we need Him.  In this regard, I wish everyone their own stray cat experience.



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Hello God? Please Leave a Message at the Tone

Okay, so I have now finished two books by author Kyle Idleman.  I should probably break down and buy his t-shirt at this point.  His latest offering Gods at War seeks to show the reader that the world we live in is inundated with "false idols" and false gods, all attempting to take the #1 place in our hearts (and in so doing, pushing God out).  He makes some effective arguments for this truth in the book.  Idolatry in the modern sense, has little or nothing to do with worshipping Greek gods or offering human sacrifices. In fact Idleman suggests that these days, simple things like entertainment and work can actually squeeze God out of our lives. God must now "fight" for the top spot on our list of achievements.  No longer is He the trophy on our top shelf, but rather one of many (and in some cases, not there at all).  

But why are we all so busy?  Why do we sign up our children for so many activities?  Why do some of our hobbies take up just as much time as we spend at church (if not more)? Relax, this is not going to be a blog post making you feel guilty about not tithing enough to the church or giving enough of our time to volunteering at the local food pantry.  Instead, I want to examine what it might look like to run away from something as good and righteous as a God who loves us.  I have a feeling it starts small: habits we pick up from our parents or coping strategies we have devised throughout our lives.  Little twists and turns of the soul that say "it's okay everyone, I can do this myself... no need for help."  And certainly no need for God's help.  After enough running, I think it is safe to say that God can easily move from something awe inspiring, to more like a big brother in the background - and then finally to a mere paper entity.    

The confusing thing is that most of these false idols (as Idleman puts it) are in essence good things.  Working hard, making money, volunteering our time, becoming high achievers, etc.  So how do we make the switch between earning money and worshipping money?  How do parents go from desiring the best for their children, to desiring their children to be the best at everything all the time?  There is a disconnect somewhere along the way.  I am reminded of the pageant moms on the hit T.V. show 'Toddlers and Tiaras.'  It is difficult to say what they are worshipping on that show, but it definitely isn't God!

There is an interesting excerpt halfway through the book where Idleman writes, "How many times have we been so distracted that we've missed a divine moment?  How many things does God long to say to us, but he keeps getting our voicemail because we're too busy to pick up?"  I imagine it in a metaphorical sense, such as God calling first my home phone and then my cell phone.  Maybe even stopping by the house eventually, only to find me traveling for work or running here and there like some silly automaton.  Sorry Lord, just leave a message ... I'm doing stuff.  Stuff.  And like most people, I really do adore some of the stuff I'm doing!  Hobbies are fun, work can be satisfying, and watching my kids or friends succeed at sports are all good things.  I promise I'll get back to God if He just leaves me a message.  After all, can't He see I'm busy?

It's of equal interest to me how the author relates almost each chapter to something that can be good of it's own accord, but once moved to the center of someone's world - everything turns to chaos.  What if none of us are actually busy, and we are just distracted?  Is it possible to be spiritually distracted?  Examples in the book include people who seek comfort through food, people who look to sex for fulfillment, and even folks who hold good health as the highest priority in their lives.  Idleman says the symptoms are often similar: whatever we idolize will eventually isolate us, unless that something is God.  But it usually isn't God that we worship, it's typically our stuff.  

Matters get worse when we try to self-diagnose our situation.  We are used to going to the medical doctor and telling the nurse what our physical symptoms are.  We may get medication for pain or to help us sleep at night, but the cause of the illness sometimes runs deeper.  "But Doctor, why can't I sleep at night?"  We want to treat the symptoms caused by false worship instead of looking further upstream to find out why we have those symptoms in the first place.  Maybe alcoholism is ruining someone's life, and the answer is to stop drinking.  But why is that person drinking too much in the first place? 

And worse yet, we have symptoms stemming from other symptoms.  Many people will never read Kyle Idleman's book because they don't have time.  And if we do read it, will we even be clear-headed enough to self-diagnose?  I suspect that often the answer is 'No.'  And so it occurs to me that there is really no place to hide.  At some point, as the false idol of our misdirected worship begins to isolate us and demand more and more of our time, we will switch gears and search for a new idol.  The cycle continues.  If we are lucky, God will have pity on us and take away our first love in order to show us our own soul.  He may change our financial situation on purpose or alter our health in order to force us to look further upstream.  Most of us would rather not look upstream.  We are content pursuing symptom treatment.

As I write this I am smiling, because I think it may be easy for someone reading this to feel guilty (or as Christians call it, "convicted") when considering their own proverbial closet full of idols.  I smile because I felt that way as well.  The reason I am still smiling is because when I put the book down, I remembered that as a follower of Christ I am literally soaked in grace.  For every nuance I may screw up, God can restore me.  We are not in charge, God is.  We don't have to be perfect, because God is.  And for the Christian, Jesus has taken on our imperfection such that we will come out the other end victorious.  It's just that we need to answer our voicemail a little more often.  Or at least leave the door unlocked in case He decides to stop by.  



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